In the library, Xia Songluo sat by the window.
In front of her was a thick stack of books: "The Complete Guide to Pigeons," "101 Secrets to Racing Pigeons," "Observation Rules for Carrier Pigeons"…
On her phone, various searches were queued up: "Can pigeons recognize people?", "Can pigeons understand human speech?", "Can a pigeon be controlled by its owner?"…
Hard as it was to believe, Xia Songluo had discovered a flock of pigeons watching her.
It had probably started last week. When she opened the curtains in the morning, a pigeon perched on the drying rack outside her balcony.
Crossing the street, a pigeon stood on the traffic light opposite.
Going camping with friends in the suburbs, pigeons appeared in the fields, by the streams, on tree branches, and on the eaves of the farmhouse restaurant.
Though pigeons are common in the city, was it really normal to see them this often?
And besides, Xia Songluo could distinctly feel that their little round eyes were fixed on her.
She often felt her scalp tingle from the staring, her skin prickling with goosebumps, instinctively wanting to avoid their gaze.
So then the question was,
Why would pigeons watch a human?
Could they have turned into spirits?
Too absurd.
Were they controlled by some owner?
If a flock of pigeons could really be manipulated like drones, should she call the police?
Buzz-
Just as Xia Songluo was flipping through her materials, her phone vibrated.
It was a WeChat call from He Qi.
She didn’t have many friends, but He Qi counted as one.
He Qi was articulate. She studied journalism in college and was now interning at a legal channel on TV.
Before coming to the library, Xia Songluo had told her about this, asking if the police would take a "case" like this seriously.
But He Qi asked if she had been sleeping poorly or under a lot of mental stress, suggesting she first make an appointment at a psychiatric clinic.
Xia Songluo wasn’t the least bit offended. In her mind, that was exactly how a normal person would react.
She pressed the decline button and sent a message: I’m in the library doing research, can’t take calls. Something up?
He Qi: Babe, let’s grab dinner tonight and chat slowly.
Xia Songluo: Chat about what? My mental state? Even you don’t believe me. If I went to the police, they wouldn’t believe me either.
He Qi: I do believe you. Have I ever doubted you? I just wanted to tell you—coincidentally, right after you said a flock of pigeons was watching you, I heard some news about a pigeon...
Seeing that, Xia Songluo immediately returned the books and walked quickly out of the library.
She called He Qi back, asking impatiently, "What news?"
Through the Bluetooth earbuds, He Qi said mysteriously, "You remember Jin Zhan, right?"
"Jin Zhan?" The name sounded familiar, but Xia Songluo’s mind was currently full of pigeons, making it hard to recall.
"Last month, he came to our station for a show. I originally got a ticket and called you to come ogle the handsome guy. You said you were busy and insisted on going to some folk band’s concert."
"Oh, oh." Xia Songluo remembered. He Qi had mentioned him many times. Jin Zhan was a pretty famous lawyer in their circle, not that old but already a senior partner at a major firm.
In He Qi’s words, Attorney Jin wasn’t just skilled at his job—his looks and demeanor stood out, fulfilling all her fantasies of the male lead from a legal drama.
But after Jin Zhan appeared on their station’s show, He Qi had gone from a little fangirl to a full-on complainer: arrogant, aloof, clean freak, fussy—"only to be admired from afar, never approached."
Xia Songluo: "What about him?"
He Qi: "He had a court case this afternoon and won it brilliantly. But just as he stepped out of the courthouse—guess what?"
Xia Songluo played along: "What?"
He Qi: "Before he even got down the steps, a pigeon scratched him."
Xia Songluo paused: "You’re saying a pigeon scratched him?"
He Qi: "Yeah. One of my coworkers happened to be interviewing at the courthouse entrance and saw it clearly. It was a golden-yellow pigeon..."
An image formed in Xia Songluo’s mind: the Golden Armor breed, known for being beautiful and ornamental.
And from pigeon fancier circles, a common complaint: Golden Armor is just nice to look at, not suitable as a carrier pigeon. Use them for races, and you could lose your shirt.
He Qi described it vividly: "A really gorgeous pigeon swooped down from high, aiming straight for Attorney Jin’s face. He reacted fast and blocked it with his arm, so it only scratched the back of his hand—otherwise, his face would have been hit. Tsk, aside from his professional skills, his face is about the only charm he’s got..."
Xia Songluo frowned slightly. From her recent research on pigeons, they were gentle-natured and rarely attacked humans.
Even when they did, it was usually with their beaks, pecking.
He Qi: "Little Xia."
Xia Songluo: "Huh?"
He Qi said, "You know about the pigeon square in our district, right? It’s been getting popular online, turning into a viral check-in spot. Local businesses are cranking up the number of pigeons for profit, but the square’s management can’t keep up. Nearby residents haven’t stopped complaining about the bird droppings. And look—today even Attorney Jin got clawed by a pigeon. Knowing how he never backs down from any loss, he’ll probably sue the square’s management team tomorrow. That should start a crackdown soon..."
Xia Songluo listened in silence, knowing He Qi still didn’t believe her and thought she was just being paranoid.
But now, Xia Songluo wasn’t planning to keep explaining. She had told He Qi because she needed help, not approval.
She had already gotten what she wanted. What had felt like searching for a needle in a haystack now seemed to show a faint glimmer of light from that needle.
She cut off He Qi’s rambling: "Do you know where Attorney Jin is now?"
He Qi said, "He’s probably at the hospital getting his wound treated."
"Which hospital?"
"I’ll have to ask around."
He Qi didn’t ask why, just hung up.
She knew Songluo’s personality—easily swayed, but when confused, she had to resolve it, and she had her own way of doing things.
Xia Songluo was also well aware of He Qi’s efficiency. She stood still, staring at the WeChat chat page.
A few minutes later, He Qi sent a message: Jin Zhan didn’t go to the hospital. He went back to his law firm.
Then came the location of the firm.
He Qi: "You’re socially anxious. Want me to go with you?"
Xia Songluo: No need. Focus on work.
She just didn’t enjoy socializing much—didn’t want to waste energy on useless interactions.
Xia Songluo hailed a taxi: "Driver, take me to Qheng Law Firm."
...
Half an hour later, the taxi drove into the central business district.
The area was filled with skyscrapers, but Jin Zhan’s law firm was in a three-story small villa nestled away from the bustle.
Xia Songluo got out of the car across from the firm.
Looking around, whether it was a stress reaction or not, she felt that the exquisite little villa, compared to the tower-like buildings around it, looked exactly like—
A golden birdcage?
