Animal Detective

Deep in the mountain forest, Yang Zeran’s foot suddenly slipped, and he started to fall.

Walking beside him, Shen Xin’s reflexes were quick. He grabbed Yang Zeran’s arm, stopping his fall.

"You alright?" Shen Xin asked.

Yang Zeran shook his head, catching his breath as he kept up. Then he said, "I think I finally get why you thought using people as messengers was impractical."

He’d thought that a little over two kilometers wasn’t that far. Even if the mountain terrain was difficult to run on, a steady jog should have been enough to get the message out quickly.

But now that he was actually walking it, he realized that forget jogging—just walking normally was a struggle.

And this was even after taking the easier path up the mountain, not the direct route from the fake casino.

Shen Xin said, "This is what you call a gap between perception and reality. The most important thing is to experience it for yourself."

"Last year, I was on Dingshan tracking a suspect with a K-9 unit. You have no idea how hard it was to walk on that mountain by the time we finally found him. It was so difficult that the suspect himself just gave up. He didn’t even want to run anymore."

Yang Zeran nodded slightly, feeling a wave of emotion.

He had joined the force earlier than Shen Xin, but he had always worked at the municipal bureau, primarily in a supervisory role, guiding investigations.

Looking back now, Yang Zeran truly felt that he had been an armchair general most of the time.

Now that he was in the Cold Case Office, starting to investigate cases firsthand, he was only just realizing how difficult it was—and that taking things for granted was a huge mistake.

For example, when he was supervising a case with no leads or direction, Yang Zeran would tell his team that leads come from pounding the pavement.

If you just go out and canvass more, you’re bound to find a lead.

That’s what his teachers had taught him at the academy, and what all the textbooks said.

But now that he was actually working cases, Yang Zeran was discovering that wasn’t how it worked at all.

Tens of thousands of steps a day, legs feeling ready to break—that was just the start of it.

The idea he’d subconsciously held—that any random person on the street would tell you everything they knew—was complete bullshit.

Being a cop didn’t matter. They’d just brush you off with a casual "I don’t know."

And you had no way of knowing if they were telling the truth.

Back at the academy, when studying old cases, he’d often come across instances where preliminary investigations went wrong and a suspect was missed.

Of course, Yang Zeran hadn’t understood it then. He always felt that making a mistake during something as simple as canvassing was unforgivable.

Only now did he understand what Shen Xin meant: there’s always a gap between perception and reality.

Without firsthand experience, it was easy to just make assumptions.

That’s why Yang Zeran truly felt that coming to the Cold Case Office and getting his hands dirty with actual fieldwork was the right move.

As his thoughts spiraled, branching out into new territory, an idea suddenly sparked in Yang Zeran’s mind.

He suddenly had a new idea about the poisoning case they were working on.

But they were still on the move, so he didn’t voice it just yet.

Besides, it was just a thought. Yang Zeran needed to mull it over a bit more.

Finally, after the arduous trek, the group arrived at the real casino.

Before them was what could loosely be called a clearing, cordoned off with camouflage tarps.

Folding tables and plastic chairs were set up underneath.

The ground was littered with cigarette butts and empty drink bottles.

When they arrived, about a dozen people were squatting off to the side.

It wasn’t a large number of people.

But the tables were piled high with thick stacks of red bills, and a few officers were busy counting the gambling money.

Zhou Shaobo came over and said quietly, "The stakes were high. Over a million."

Clearly, it was a high-stakes game: few people, but a lot of money.

Li Fang wanted to frown to show the gravity of the situation, but he couldn’t stop the corners of his mouth from turning up.

What could he do? Every cop loves a good gambling bust.

Shen Xin didn’t care about that. He was more curious about his fellow "professional."

The crow had indeed come this way. It was perched on a treetop now, cawing intermittently.

Overhead, Teddy was still circling, waiting for a chance to vent his frustration.

Shen Xin walked up to the gamblers, pointed at the crow overhead, and asked, "Who owns this bird?"

"It’s mine, Officer. I raised that bird," a middle-aged man on the ground quickly raised his hand. He had a fawning smile on his face, heavy-lidded eyes, and a hint of an Anjing accent in his speech.

Shen Xin looked at the man.

He looked to be almost fifty, with thinning hair neatly combed to one side.

He had monolids, a large nose, and dark, rough skin, suggesting he’d seen his fair share of hardship when he was younger.

He was wearing a Ralph Lauren polo shirt and Tod’s driving loafers. The whole getup practically screamed "greasy" right from his face.

Shen Xin asked, "What’s your name?"

The man’s potbelly was a bit large, making it hard for him to squat properly. He was awkwardly perched on the balls of one foot, furtively sizing up Shen Xin while flashing an apologetic smile. "My name is Zhang Degui," he said quickly.

’With that attitude, and a name like that, he must have changed it,’ Shen Xin thought.

He pulled out his PDA to run a check.

Sure enough, his former name was Zhang Fugui.

’So he probably got rich and decided he needed to sound more virtuous,’ Shen Xin mused.

"Do you train birds?" Shen Xin inquired.

At the mention of this, a proud expression appeared on Zhang Degui’s face. He nodded and asked in return, "What, you into this stuff too, Officer?"

Shen Xin remained noncommittal and told him to call the crow down from overhead.

The man puckered his lips and, without using his fingers, let out a piercing whistle.

As soon as it heard the whistle, the crow in the tree beat its wings and landed on his shoulder.

Shen Xin was surprised. ’Well, I’ll be. He even knows vocal mimicry.’

"Officer."

Zhang Degui looked eager to share, saying, "Some people call these birds ’dumb,’ but they’re really not. Some of ’em are wicked smart."

"You’ve heard the story of the crow and the pitcher, right? It just goes to show that crows can think. And if they can think, they can be trained."

"See that money on the table?"

He pointed at the cash on the folding table.

Shen Xin nodded.

Zhang Degui said, "Believe it or not, I can get Blackie here to bring me that money. And if I tell him to grab a hundred, he won’t grab two hundred."

Yang Zeran asked in astonishment, "For real?"

Shen Xin waved a hand, gesturing for him to give it a try.

Zhang Degui didn’t stand on ceremony. He puckered his lips and whistled again.

He really did seem to be a master of vocal mimicry, able to produce a variety of sounds.

And each sound likely corresponded to a different command.

First, one to get the crow’s attention, then another, combined with a finger gesture and a whistle, to issue the command.

The crow understood. With a flap of its wings, it landed lightly on the table, plucked a hundred-yuan bill from a stack of cash, and flew back.

Zhang Degui looked smug and asked Shen Xin if it wasn’t amazing.

Shen Xin just smiled without saying a word.

Anyone else might have found it amazing.

But for him?

’Tiger Stripes can go buy his own drinks. What’s this little trick in comparison?’

Seeing that Shen Xin didn’t have a shocked expression on his face, Zhang Degui actually felt a little put out.

It was like pulling off a great stunt, only to have the audience not even get it. So frustrating.

Zhang Degui said, "Officer, don’t think this is easy. I’m telling you, it’s hard. First off, you have to pick the right bird."

"People come in all shapes and sizes, and it’s the same with birds. Take my Blackie here—I bought tons of birds and hand-picked him. He’s truly one in a hundred."

Shen Xin smiled to himself.

’Is this guy for real? Is he just confessing to trafficking wild animals right now?’

Zhang Degui was on a roll, completely oblivious. He continued, "And it’s not enough just to pick the right bird. You need technique."

"Do you know what I used to do?"

Shen Xin shook his head.

Zhang Degui said, "Let me tell you, back in the day, among the old artisans of Anjing, everyone who saw me had to call me Rat Zhang."

Yang Zeran froze, asking in surprise, "Rat?"

Zhang Degui nodded. "That’s right, rats. You’ve seen monkey tamers, horse trainers, tiger trainers... but you’ve never seen a rat tamer, have you?"

"But I’m telling you, rats can be trained, too. They can walk tightropes, fetch water, and even get together to put on a whole show for you."

"But what a pity. Skill alone is useless. It couldn’t support a family, couldn’t even put food on the table."

He shook his head, getting into the storytelling.

Shen Xin cut him off. "So you started running a gambling den?"

Zhang Degui gave a sheepish grin and tried to justify himself. "I had no choice. Just trying to make a living. And look, after all that scheming, I still ended up in your hands."

Yang Zeran chuckled and retorted, "What, from the sound of it, you feel pretty wronged."

Zhang Degui shook his head. "I wouldn’t dare say wronged. I’m the thief, you’re the cops. It’s a cat’s duty to catch the mouse."

"But if it weren’t for Blackie running into that falcon today, would you have even caught me?"

He looked up at the sky.

After being caught, he had spotted Teddy circling in the air.

He immediately understood why Blackie hadn’t returned in time to give the warning.

He was still muttering to himself, ’Where in the Southern Region did a falcon even come from?’

Seeing the unwilling look on his face, Shen Xin didn’t waste any more words. He walked over to a gap in the canopy, raised his arm, and let out a whistle.

Overhead, Teddy responded instantly, diving through the treetops and landing lightly, slowly, on Shen Xin’s arm.

Shen Xin transferred him to his shoulder, then turned to look at Zhang Degui. "Well? Still feel like you just had bad luck?"

"Holy shit!"

Zhang Degui’s eyes instantly bulged as wide as a goldfish’s, his mind a complete blank.

Just a moment ago, he’d been thinking there were far too many cops on the scene—a huge, overwhelming crowd.

Now, seeing this falcon come at a single call, only one thought remained in his head: ’Are you insane? It’s just a gambling bust! Did they really train a Hunting Falcon specifically to deal with me?’