Chapter 100: A Cry for Help from a Tawny Owl
From April to June, the feeling of summer in Yue City grew stronger. As the temperature rose bit by bit, the home’s thermostat system kicked in, keeping the indoor temperature at around 20°C.
Even so, it still wasn’t enough. In Tiger Mom and Tian Shu’s room, the temperature was set at about 18°C. Many of the heat-sensitive youngsters would sneak in at night to sleep with Tian Shu.
For example, Tian Heng and Kai Yang, and even Cang Ao and the others—when there were too many of them, the room temperature would even be lowered to 15 or 16°C.
As for Tian Xuan, being an Asiatic lion, it was far more heat-tolerant than Tian Shu. For it, 20°C was perfectly comfortable.
And over those months, quite a lot happened.
First, Shi Li Cheng was sentenced to immediate execution. At the public sentencing, many members of the public who’d been following the case showed up, and Lin Jiangye and Shang Fuyan even took time off to go watch.
During the hearing, the moment Shi Li Cheng saw the two of them, it was like a zombie going berserk—he instantly became violently agitated, and only when the court police pinned him down hard did the proceedings continue.
When he was being escorted away, Lin Jiangye even smiled at him—maliciously, on purpose.
He shouldn’t have.
The second Lin Jiangye smiled, Shi Li Cheng’s emotions detonated all over again.
Meanwhile, when the Gu family heard the words “immediate execution,” they couldn’t help breaking down in tears right there in the gallery.
They hated Shi Li Cheng, but they hated themselves even more—if they’d noticed something was wrong earlier, if they’d known those children were being abused like that by their own father, no matter what, they would never have let the two kids stay by that beast’s side.
But there are no “ifs.”
After that, some netizens began to question whether Gu Jiawen’s death had been suspicious too. The police re-investigated and confirmed again: it really had been an accident.
Now that Shi Li Cheng was dead, most people finally felt some relief.
Still, whenever they thought of the children’s ages, even strangers felt a faint ache of regret—if only it had been discovered sooner, maybe those two kids could’ve been saved.
Besides Shi Li Cheng’s case causing such a huge stir, the Fang family’s situation was also a complete mess.
Lin Jiangye only found out about the Fang family’s chaos while he was livestreaming the adoptable youngsters at his pet hospital—he accidentally saw the trending topics.
The Fang family had been having a brutal time. Their business empire shrank to barely a third of what it used to be. Worse, quite a few officials in Gao City fell too—people who’d once taken Fang money and helped them bury all kinds of crimes.
The scope of the investigation wasn’t limited to government officials either—it included the three systems of public security, prosecution, and the courts. They practically sifted through every mid- and high-level figure in Gao City.
But where some people mourn, others celebrate.
Hong Xingwang got promoted—from Major Crimes Team Leader to Deputy Captain of the Criminal Investigation Unit. In another two years, as long as he didn’t screw up, once the unit captain retired, he’d be next in line.
He knew perfectly well: if it were only his own ability, it would’ve taken him years more to reach deputy captain—and it wouldn’t have been this smooth.
Because if he’d waited until he “naturally” rose into that position, the unit captain would’ve been the previous deputy captain—someone who just happened to be Fang Song’s “good brother.”
So after the promotion, Hong Xingwang brought Lin Jiangye a huge gift.
Lin Jiangye didn’t want to accept at first. But once he saw what it was, he froze—then burst out laughing.
“Fine. I’ll take it.”
What did Hong Xingwang bring?
A thousand jin of dog food, supposedly for the rescued dogs to eat.
That kind of gift—Lin Jiangye wasn’t going to refuse.
After two months, many of the original forty-plus dogs had already been taken home by their owners. But nearly half still remained.
Most of those were local mixed-breed village dogs. According to Zhang Min, those village dogs were either strays, or dogs he’d stolen from rural countryside areas.
Either they had no owner, or their owners didn’t care that they were missing—because they could just buy another one any time.
Thankfully, Hong Xingwang didn’t only bring a thousand jin of dog food—he also brought two pieces of good news.
“I’ve got a few friends who want to adopt dogs. I already told them your pet hospital’s location. When they come, Advisor Lin, could you help match them up?”
He understood the rules for adopting strays: it wasn’t just the person choosing the animal—the animal had to choose the person too.
The second piece of good news: the police department also wanted to train a few smart, responsive dogs as police dogs.
In other words, Hong Xingwang didn’t just deliver food—he also planned to take a few dogs away.
That gift suited Lin Jiangye’s heart perfectly, and it wouldn’t cause any awkward issues either.
Actually, it wasn’t only Gao City that wanted police dogs. After hearing about Lin Jiangye, the fire department that belonged to Xiao Hei also wanted him to help pick two suitable dogs.
And since Yue City had been calm lately, Lin Jiangye simply gave a few dogs some basic training on the side.
Whether as police dogs or search-and-rescue dogs, the most important thing was obedience. Some dogs were smart but refused commands—those couldn’t become working dogs.
Some dogs had strong endurance but weak explosive power; they might make decent rescue dogs, but they wouldn’t work as riot-control dogs.
Lin Jiangye evaluated all their temperaments and abilities and made a chart. It included recommended lists for search-and-rescue, narcotics, and even military dogs.
But this was only a preliminary filter. Whether they could truly “eat government rice” depended on the dogs themselves.
Besides those strays, Lin Jiangye really did go back to Yueyang City later and spoke with the stray cats and dogs there too.
Those who wanted to leave, he brought with him. Those who didn’t, he left plenty of food behind—stored at the Yueyang City Public Security Bureau and managed by Captain Su.
Captain Su was happy to do it. After all, without those strays, they wouldn’t have found that drainage ditch—the crime location—so quickly.
Under Lin Jiangye’s influence, more and more police departments began paying attention to local stray cats and dogs. No one knew when a case might happen—and when they might become the first eyewitness “person.”
In that warm, harmonious atmosphere, time slid into mid-June.
Then one day, Lin Jiangye received a special distress call.
Just like last year’s snow owl and little white deer from Taibai Mountain—another wild animal had crossed over a thousand kilometers to find him.
[Human!!! Save us!!!]
Lin Jiangye was at the city bureau’s main Criminal Investigation Division. He’d just walked out with Shang Fuyan when two birds slammed right into them.
One was his own kid—the gyrfalcon Qi Ming.
And the other…
Huh? Another owl again?
Lin Jiangye stared as the second bird landed on a nearby pillar, and his eyes went a little unfocused.
It was a gray-brown tawny owl, about half a meter long, with a round, apple-shaped gray face and no ear tufts—apparently a Sichuan endemic gray tawny owl. ?
It let out urgent, rapid hoots at him.
[Human! Save us! We’re going to die!]
“???” Lin Jiangye blurted out. “Die? Who’s dying? Who’s being attacked? Who’s trying to hurt you?”
There were plenty of officers nearby. The moment Lin Jiangye spoke, they all perked up and leaned in.
Lin Jiangye had been working at the city bureau for two months now. It wasn’t the first time they’d seen him talk with animals—but every time still felt magical.
And this time, the conversation sounded wrong. Dying? Death? Was a person going to die—or what?
[A lot! A lot! Monkeys died… the muntjac died too… and two big black-and-white ones were attacked as well… but no one saw who killed them. We’re all so scared!]
Monkeys. Muntjac. Big black-and-white ones—wait.
Big black-and-white ones?!
“You mean…?” Lin Jiangye felt disbelief crash into him. He quickly pulled up a panda photo on his phone and showed it to the owl. “Is it this?”
The owl’s response chilled him to the bone.
It nodded.
[Yes! That black-and-white big one! They got attacked for no reason too!]
“Pandas were attacked?” Lin Jiangye nearly screamed. Pandas were big predators—who would dare touch them?
A few officers seized on the word panda too.
“Pandas? Did a panda die?”
That was a national treasure—how could it die? Accident? Or human?
Their murmuring voices started drowning out the owl. Shang Fuyan immediately frowned and swept them with a cold glare.
Instantly, everyone shut up.
Shang Fuyan might’ve just become deputy captain, but no one was unfamiliar with his temperament. They’d learned it long ago during joint operations.
Now that he was their superior, they were even more cautious.
Lin Jiangye scooped up the tawny owl and carried it to a quiet corner, patiently asking what exactly had happened.
The owl’s voice was full of grief.
[I don’t know what’s happening. But lately, at night, something strange appears—smack—and a monkey or a muntjac or something else dies.]
Bigger animals were better off; they might get injured but not necessarily die. But for mid- and small-sized wildlife like them, it was instant death.
It wasn’t a human, and it wasn’t any normal creature either—something black, shaped like a bird but wrong, flying in the air and suddenly striking other animals.
[And then they die. And after it kills them, I heard…] The owl’s feathers puffed up, making it look like a fluffy long-haired cat.
[I heard the strange thing even takes the bodies away… wuwuwu, so scary!] The owl burst into tears.
It had witnessed other animals being killed, but the “taking away bodies” part was what monkeys told it—it hadn’t seen that itself.
And because it hadn’t seen it, it felt even scarier.
Lin Jiangye watched the owl trembling and felt both heartache and confusion.
What could make a tawny owl describe it as “like a bird but strange”? Something that could one-shot monkeys and muntjac… could it be a golden eagle?
No—if it were a golden eagle, the owl wouldn’t call it strange.
Could it be some mutated large raptor?
Only large raptors could injure monkeys and muntjac—and even dare to attack pandas.
But if it was an adult panda, a golden eagle wouldn’t attack. If it was a cub—
No.
The owl said “big one,” not a cub. For wildlife, adults and cubs are completely different. It wouldn’t mix them up.
Sure enough, after Lin Jiangye questioned it carefully, the owl confirmed:
[Not a cub, not a cub! It’s a big one!]
An adult panda—forget golden eagles. Even if an Andean condor came, it wouldn’t attack a panda. And even if it did, it couldn’t injure it in a single strike.
Also, Andean condors weren’t native here.
So what was this “strange black thing”?
Lin Jiangye held the owl, gently stroking its little body and smoothing down its puffed feathers.
“Don’t panic. Can you tell me where you came from?” If he was going to help, he had to coordinate with local staff first.
The owl lifted its apple-round, fluffy face. Its brown eyes looked like a cat’s—pitiful and pleading.
[Qionglai Mountains.]
Oh, Qionglai… wait.
Wasn’t there a Sichuan nature reserve in the Qionglai range?
If these were reserve animals…
“You said monkeys—are they golden?” Lin Jiangye asked.
The owl tilted its head, then nodded like a little cat.
[Yeah. The monkeys are so pretty! And their temper is good too.]
Good. Case cracked: golden snub-nosed monkeys.
Another Class I protected species.
If the monkeys were golden snub-nosed monkeys, then the “muntjac”… was it forest musk deer? Golden snub-nosed monkeys, musk deer, pandas—and this tawny owl in his arms…
All of them were Class I protected species.
Lin Jiangye’s expression grew heavier. His eyes narrowed into a cold, thoughtful line.
If it were other monkeys, he wouldn’t be so sensitive. But these were all nationally protected animals—especially golden snub-nosed monkeys and musk deer, both prime targets for poachers even today.
The snub-nosed monkey’s striking fur, and musk deer’s musk—ever since reserves grew stronger, the products had become rarer and the prices higher, pushing desperate people to gamble.
Poachers might target protected animals—but even if they were poachers, Lin Jiangye still couldn’t imagine what that “black, strange thing” was.
“A new high-tech weapon developed by poachers?” The poachers they’d caught before were crude—guns in hand, straight-up.
Now they’d apparently invented something new.
Whatever it was, Lin Jiangye felt the situation turning serious.
“What happened?” Shang Fuyan saw Lin Jiangye’s eyes turn icy and immediately knew the owl had brought extremely serious information.
Thinking of Taibai Mountain’s snow owl, his brows also knitted together.
“Did a lot of bodies show up again?”
That was a terrifying thought—if something like that happened, it would shake the whole country.
Thankfully, Lin Jiangye’s words steadied him a little.
“Not humans—wild animals are in danger. There might be poachers again.”
Only might. Based solely on the owl’s account, Lin Jiangye couldn’t be 100% sure. But other than poachers, he couldn’t think of anything that would dare go after adult pandas.
But… poachers attacking pandas? Were they tired of living?
Back in the last century, poachers did go after panda pelts. Later, the government recognized how crucial ecology was and gradually protected the remaining wild panda population.
Up to now, most wild pandas were actually captive-bred and then released; truly wild-born pandas were extremely rare.
Logically, released pandas should have tracking and monitoring—so how could one be injured?
Even though it wasn’t a human homicide case, Shang Fuyan’s face didn’t look any better.
Poachers’ targets were always protected species. With Lin Jiangye mentioning “death” and “pandas,” Shang Fuyan’s unease wouldn’t lift.
Lin Jiangye quickly returned to the bureau, used Yue City’s forestry department to get the Qionglai nature reserve’s staff contact, and called them through the bureau’s phone.
The person who picked up sounded confused—probably wondering why Yue City public security was calling them.
But the moment Lin Jiangye gave his name, the other side’s attitude did a complete 180.
Then, just as quickly, the caller realized something was off.
“Advisor Lin… you’re calling us because…?”
They’d heard the story of Taibai Mountain’s snow owl and white deer traveling over a thousand kilometers to report a case. Now Lin Jiangye calling out of nowhere felt deeply unsettling.
Soon, that unease turned into real shock.
When Lin Jiangye said he suspected poachers had entered the reserve, their first reaction was disbelief.
Impossible.
Their reserve had plenty of HD cameras—especially in areas where protected animals gathered. Not only cameras, but daily patrols too. How could poachers get in?
But the number displayed on their screen was Yue City Public Security’s official line. And Lin Jiangye dared to call from that number, meaning he was reporting in a semi-official capacity.
The staff member wiped his face hard and asked:
“Advisor Lin, may I ask—who told you there were poachers?”
Lin Jiangye didn’t hide it. He explained the tawny owl’s arrival from start to finish.
“Poachers are my guess, but I’m 90% sure it’s real. I want to go investigate. If I’m wrong, great.”
If that was true, then they needed to drag the poachers out as soon as possible!
The two staffers immediately panicked and hurriedly reported it to the director. His first reaction was also that it was impossible—after all, the areas where golden snub-nosed monkeys and forest musk deer lived were restricted zones. Tourists couldn’t get in.
But Lin Jiangye sounded so utterly certain…
After hesitating, the director still nodded. “Alright. Let him come over and take a look.”
They could treat it as a special inspection. If nothing was wrong, then everyone would be happy.
However, the moment he said yes, someone objected.
“Director, even if there are poachers in the reserve, we can investigate it ourselves. Why do we need an outsider to come?”
That tawny owl only wanted to find a human who could understand it and report the danger. Now that its goal had been achieved, the rest should be handled by their own people.
The director glanced at the speaker. The man didn’t look nervous at all—he only looked faintly disdainful when Lin Jiangye was mentioned.
He probably doubted Lin Jiangye’s abilities.
That kind of doubt was understandable. If it weren’t for multiple government agencies vouching for Lin Jiangye, the director himself wouldn’t have believed something this unbelievable either.
He hesitated, then decided to follow the man’s suggestion: send their own people in to search first.
Lin Jiangye had already gone home and started packing, but when he heard the response, the clothes in his hands fell straight to the floor.
The next second, a tabby cat lunged over, shot into the suitcase, and stuffed itself into the only remaining empty space.
[Mi wants to go too~]
Lin Jiangye’s mood turned complicated for a moment. But the second he saw Cang Ao’s adorable, clingy expression, that complicated feeling melted away.
He shook his head and said slowly, while the tabby pouted in displeasure, “We don’t need to go anymore.”
[Huh? Why?]
Lin Jiangye pressed his lips together and explained, a little dejected, “I already explained the situation to them. Next, they’ll search on their own.”
So there was no need for an outsider to go.
There was no way he wasn’t disappointed. No matter how nicely the director tried to phrase it, Lin Jiangye could still hear a faint edge of rejection in his tone.
It was strange. Earlier it hadn’t been like this at all—so why, in less than half an hour, had the tone changed so much?
Lin Jiangye swallowed his emotions and relayed the response to the tawny owl, but the owl seemed unable to accept it.
[No, no, no! Bird doesn’t trust them!]
Before coming here, it wasn’t like other animals hadn’t tried to find nearby humans who worked in the area—but without exception, it had all been useless.
They’d tried to lead those humans into the mountains, but the humans would just wave a hand and turn around and leave.
[Hate it!!!]
The tawny owl was furious and puffed itself up again—turning into a fluffy “cat ball,” making the tabby at Lin Jiangye’s feet twitch with eager excitement.
“No!” Lin Jiangye didn’t even need to look—he could sense what the tabby was about to do. He immediately pressed down on its little head so it couldn’t pounce.
Facing the owl’s lack of trust, Lin Jiangye felt stuck. Because if he really wanted to investigate properly, he would have to go deep into the uninhabited zone.
And those zones could only be entered with explicit approval from the reserve’s responsible staff.
Seeing him like this, the tawny owl instantly wilted, shrinking into a small, pitiful little lump of feathers.
Lin Jiangye quickly hugged it and coaxed it gently. “How about this—wait until tomorrow, okay? Tomorrow I’ll ask again. If they still can’t find anything, I’ll fly over immediately.”
From Yue City to the reserve, a flight would take at most three hours.
But before that, he’d probably need to apply for a private flight route.
And if there were wild pandas in the uninhabited zone, he should really bring a big predator with him.
Like Tiger Mom.
Still… the people over there shouldn’t be completely unable to find anything, right? According to the owl, there were quite a few injured or dead wild animals.
If they couldn’t find even that, then the problem really would be huge.
Author’s Note:
[1] Based on the Sichuan tawny owl.
