Chapter 3
The day all the online orders arrived, Si Jingce made it to his appointment with a well-known psychiatrist right on time and completed every test.
The doctor, surnamed Shi, wore a white coat and held his report and evaluation sheet, studying them for quite a while.
“You’re perfectly fine.”
It took him a long time to give that diagnosis.
“How can I be fine?” Si Jingce didn’t quite believe the results. “I’m seriously hearing my bird talk. Isn’t that auditory hallucination?”
He could hear Yan Yan wailing in surround sound, 360° no dead angles, with reverb like it was running through audio filters.
Dr. Shi explained patiently, “Based on your description, it sounds more like what’s commonly known as verbal hallucination. But most people in such cases hear their name being called or threatening language.”
Si Jingce thought about it—definitely not threatening. It was more like the bird being clingy and wheedling.
“Compared to genuine hallucinations, yours only occur when you physically touch your pet… This makes it quite different from typical auditory hallucination symptoms.”
Dr. Shi typed quickly, entering details into the medical record. “How’s your daily routine?”
Si Jingce answered bluntly, “Chaotic. Irregular meals. Anything else?”
“Then go back and monitor it for a while. Maybe it’s just stress. Don’t worry too much. With enough rest, the problem should gradually resolve.” It was Dr. Shi’s first time meeting someone with such a personality—he smiled slightly.
“These days everyone’s under pressure. A while ago, a friend of mine got paranoid and thought his partner was actually a pelican in disguise.”
Si Jingce asked curiously, “So is your friend cured now?”
“Cured. Once they got together, he stopped thinking his partner was a pelican.”
Si Jingce: …
He had never seen such a devious way to woo someone.
Dr. Shi didn’t prescribe any medication, just recommended observation, healthier routines, relaxation, and staying away from sources of stress.
On his way home, Si Jingce made a stop at the package pickup point.
He’d bought quite a bit over the past few days—the packages had stacked into a small mountain.
Dragging everything home with difficulty, Si Jingce opened the birdcage and called out, “Yan Yan.”
The little bird immediately poked his head out from the shredded paper: “Chirp?”
“All your stuff’s arrived.”
Yan Yan’s body stiffened. His eyes widened as he slowly turned toward the pile of parcels by the door.
So soon? Was it already the day he was going to be sent away?
His gaze locked onto the largest box. He climbed on top of it and stomped hard a few times—thump, thump.
Don’t open it!!!
“Start with the cage?” Si Jingce misunderstood.
He reached out, moved the bird aside, and began unboxing the birdcage.
It needed to be assembled from scratch, and all he could see for now were several acrylic panels.
It was—a transparent gift box?!
Yan Yan fell into deeper despair.
The swing, the toys—everything was pulled out one after another, still unassembled. Si Jingce sat cross-legged on the floor with a screwdriver, putting them together piece by piece.
Yan Yan wanted to interfere, but his beak couldn’t even grip a single screw. Si Jingce tapped his head gently. “I don’t need help. Go play.”
No, he wasn’t trying to help at all…
Two hours later, the cage was finally done. Si Jingce placed the feeder, water bottle, coconut shell, and swing inside one by one, admiring his work with satisfaction.
Only one thing was missing—a bird.
“Yan Yan?”
He called, but heard no response.
The floor was littered with cardboard boxes. Si Jingce flipped them over one by one, but the chubby pearl bird was nowhere in sight.
He escaped? Got lost? Went missing?!
The apartment wasn’t big, but it had a lot of blind spots, and Yan Yan was tiny.
Si Jingce scrambled up with both hands and knees. Suddenly, a little bird head popped out from the pile of coconut fibers in one of the boxes: “Chirp chirp!”
I’m here!
The coconut fibers were just too soft—he’d accidentally fallen asleep.
Too bad he was about to be sent away along with this cozy little bed.
He had no idea if his future owner would be as generous as his current temporary one…
Yan Yan tilted his head back and sighed deeply—only to see that Si Jingce’s expression had gone dark.
His features were already on the cold side. With no expression on his face, he looked straight-up angry—like he was ready to toss someone out.
The little bird curled into a guilty ball.
H-he’s really mad now…
I just overslept…
The sudden disappearance had indeed startled Si Jingce. But he didn’t take it out on the little creature. He simply pointed at the birdcage. “Go try it out.”
Yan Yan stared sadly at his new home.
Can I go in?
What if he got covered with a black cloth again and handed off to someone else?
He clung stubbornly to the coconut fiber pile, refusing to come out.
No matter how Si Jingce coaxed him, he wouldn’t budge. He didn’t even glance at the new cage.
Si Jingce searched on his phone: [What to do if a pearl bird refuses to enter a new nest?]
Following a guide, he scooped up some shredded paper and placed it inside the coconut shell, then put Yan Yan down again.
Yan Yan still wouldn’t go in.
“Is it because you don’t like this nest?”
As soon as the man asked, Yan Yan made his feelings known—burying his entire body into the coconut fibers.
Don’t like it! Not one bit! I will not go in!
He stole a glance at his luxurious new house, then quickly averted his eyes.
He absolutely would not play on the moon swing, eat the food inside, or sleep in that coconut shell.
“Fine, have it your way.” Si Jingce didn’t insist. He placed the coconut shell inside Yan Yan’s old, tattered little hut.
But the shell was so big, it took up the whole cage.
He’d read before that a pearl bird needed a cage of proper size, otherwise it would hinder their ability to fly.
This old cage clearly didn’t meet the standard.
Once Yan Yan got used to the new one, he’d have to find an opportunity to toss the old cage out.
With everything set up, Si Jingce placed Yan Yan down and began clearing up the empty boxes. That’s when he noticed an unopened package.
His phone buzzed briefly—it was a message from his streamer friend, Yunduan.
[Yunduan]: Bro, did the camera arrive? I picked out the best one for you. Try setting it up first.
Holding the box with the webcam inside, Si Jingce replied to Yunduan’s message. The little bird saw he was about to leave and emerged from the coconut fiber pile, trailing behind into the study.
Helpless, Si Jingce scooped him up again.
“Clingy,” he commented.
Yan Yan smoothed down his feathers.
If he wasn’t clingy, he’d get rehomed again!
Si Jingce suddenly paused, staring curiously at the little bird in his palm.
More new plotlines from his auditory hallucinations? He never intended to become a bird trafficker.
His brow furrowed, then relaxed.
He didn’t think much of it. He turned on his computer and joined a voice call with Yunduan.
“This camera is easy to install,” Yunduan explained. “Just plug it in via USB—no drivers needed.” Then he added casually, “We’ve known each other for years, but I’ve never seen what you look like. I’m kinda curious.”
Yan Yan was still watching Si Jingce set up the webcam. Fascinated by the large-eyed device, he leaned in for a closer look.
In the dark lens, he caught a glimpse of his own reflection.
Before he could study it properly, a big hand picked up the webcam. Si Jingce clipped it onto the monitor and adjusted the angle.
“Not good-looking. No point.” He tossed a test video over to Yunduan. “I’m just some ugly guy.”
Yan Yan paused mid-groom.
Hmph. Not ugly at all.
Yunduan believed him. After all, most people who turned on their cameras weren’t as stunning as their avatars—more often, they killed the illusion.
Especially Si Jingce, with all those female fans. They worried showing his face would backfire.
Yunduan laughed loudly. “Then crank up the beauty filters to max. You know what your haters on the forums say about you?”
“They’re always screaming hubby this, hubby that—if the cam ever turns on and they see a fat dude with thick glasses…”
As he spoke, Yunduan accepted the video call.
What appeared on his screen was not a fat guy with a greasy face, but a stone-cold handsome man staring at him expressionlessly.
Hair slightly messy from the headset, the magnetic voice that charmed thousands of female fans now paired with that face—Si Jingce lightly tapped his earpiece, sending a faint thump through the mic.
“Can you see me?”
Yunduan stared blankly for a while, then burst out with a curse: “Damn it, you’ve known me this long and still mess with me like this?!”
He almost fell for lcberg’s crap!
Worried about being camera-shy? With a face like that, wouldn’t he hit the trending page instantly?!
Si Jingce frowned. He wasn’t used to seeing his own face on the screen.
“As long as it’s working.” The camera seemed fine. He turned off the video. “I’m heading out.”
Yunduan quickly stopped him. “Wait a sec! Let me remote in and help you configure it so you can just double-click to launch the stream and webcam.”
Way more convenient that way.
Si Jingce considered it for a moment. “Fine. You do that—I’ll go get something to eat.”
Dragging all those parcels home had drained some energy.
He looked around for the bird. Pearl birds were so small, Si Jingce spent half his day just looking for him.
Right now, Yan Yan was obediently sitting in the figurine display shelf.
They hadn’t interacted much these past few days—mostly, Si Jingce streamed while Yan Yan sat quietly and watched.
As soon as Si Jingce walked away, Yan Yan peeked out, then flew to the computer desk.
The monitor had gone black from inactivity. On the surface, a blurry little bird reflection was faintly visible.
Facing this giant fuzzy mirror, Yan Yan preened his feathers.
Once he finished tidying himself up, he looked up at the webcam mounted on the monitor.
Pearl birds were naturally curious.
To put it simply—they were clumsy and loved to play.
He had seen it—once Si Jingce set it up, his face had appeared on the screen.
Birdie had never seen anything like it…
Just then, the nearby phone lit up. Startled, Yan Yan backed up a few steps.
And accidentally stepped on the mouse—click.
The entire monitor lit up.
Fans waiting in Si Jingce’s stream were stunned—
[??? Didn’t he say the stream starts at 8 PM?]
[WTF!!! Did I just see that—lcberg turned on the camera?!]
[Where is he?? Why is it just an empty chair?]
The chat exploded, flooding the screen with bullet comments.
Yan Yan didn’t notice. He opened his wings and flew over to the webcam.
Just a quick look…
He quietly poked his head into view.
In the meantime, the fans had started calling their friends. lcberg’s long-awaited face reveal had already been hyped by the platform, and new viewers were swarming in.
But all they saw was an empty gaming chair.
While the bullet chat tried to summon Si Jingce with sheer willpower, the screen suddenly went black.
[What happened? Did he turn the cam off again?]
[Noooo!!! Please no!!!]
The camera trembled slightly—something seemed to be pecking at it.
Soon, the “object” blocking the lens backed away, revealing a bright red, pointed beak.
Realizing it was useless, the “object” took a few more steps back, finally revealing its full form.
A tiny, fluffy creature with rosy cheeks, each speckled with vivid blush, and delicate pearl-like spots glittering on its feathers.
The little bird looked into the camera and let out a soft chirp.
“Chirp?”
