Chen Zhiye started the engine and turned on the headlights, illuminating the road ahead. He spoke softly to Su Muzhi:
“Why are you thanking me? I didn’t really help much. The person you should thank is yourself—the version of yourself that was brave enough to fight back.”
Su Muzhi let out a laugh. The tears in her eyes shimmered, threatening to fall but never quite doing so.
“Director Chen, you’ve really been drinking a lot of motivational chicken soup, huh?”
The atmosphere inside the car relaxed.
The vulture assigned to the back seat was still chattering nonstop, while the fox maintained its usual aloof demeanor, occasionally throwing in a sarcastic remark.
The rescue center was nearly two hours away from the city. Combined with the difficulty of driving at night, it was almost the middle of the night by the time they finally returned.
After settling the two animals in, Chen Zhiye said to Su Muzhi:
“It’s too late today. Get some rest first. Tomorrow morning Old Huang will go up the mountain and examine them.”
The mountain air was especially fresh in the morning.
With two enormous dark circles under her eyes, Su Muzhi appeared before Chen Zhiye, yawning twice before dropping into the seat across from him.
Chen Zhiye pushed a bowl of douhua (silken tofu pudding) toward her and teased:
“What, were you out stealing things last night? You look exhausted.”
Su Muzhi smiled and mechanically took a bite.
The moment it entered her mouth, her eyes lit up.
“Where did you buy this? It’s so good!”
Veterinarian Huang happened to walk in just then. While washing his hands, he complained:
“Tasty, right? It’s from that internet-famous breakfast shop. Old Chen called me at five in the morning and made me buy it, and he still hasn’t paid me!”
“So early?”
Su Muzhi exclaimed.
“Of course. Otherwise you can’t get any!”
Chen Zhiye quickly interrupted their small talk and got to the point.
“How’s the fox doing?”
“Small-scale bone necrosis. The wound itself isn’t infected, which is the good news. The bad news is it’ll limp for the rest of its life. No chance of releasing it back into the wild, so it’s another permanent resident on our hands.”
Chen Zhiye nodded. It was hard to tell whether he was comforting himself or everyone else.
“If it stays, it stays. At least it’s alive.”
Su Muzhi sighed and went outside to check on the fox.
Taking advantage of her absence, Veterinarian Huang looked at Chen Zhiye with concern.
“The rescue center’s account is almost empty. Now we’ve suddenly taken in so many injured animals. Can you really keep this up?”
Having his situation exposed, Chen Zhiye gave a bitter smile.
“I’ve picked up a few freelance jobs lately and made some money. I’ll just keep going for as long as I can.”
Veterinarian Huang frowned, clearly disapproving.
“You code at night and take care of animals during the day. How is your body supposed to handle that?
I told you back then to accept the merger with the zoo. Better location, better facilities, and a better environment for the animals. But no—you insisted on moving all the way out to this wilderness.”
“I already explained it. Some animals can’t be put on display because they’re prone to stress. And they only wanted to release the animals that had permanent disabilities. The animals that were actually healthy enough to be released? They wanted to keep those in the zoo as exhibits!”
Chen Zhiye’s voice rose with emotion.
When the zoo’s manager first approached him, he’d thought it was a wonderful opportunity.
But after he rejected those conditions, the manager had actually sent people to vandalize the original rescue center.
Left with no choice, Chen Zhiye had moved the center into the mountains.
Veterinarian Huang was about to continue arguing when Su Muzhi, who had come back to retrieve her phone, timidly interrupted:
“I have an idea. It should solve at least part of the rescue center’s funding problem.”
Both Chen Zhiye and Veterinarian Huang looked unconvinced.
Huang even spoke up directly.
“Little Su, don’t make things more complicated. What are you going to suggest? Getting yourself fired?”
He had been the one who interviewed Su Muzhi.
He’d seen her résumé. Her household registration was still attached to an orphanage.
Afraid they wouldn’t believe her, Su Muzhi pulled out her phone, opened her livestream statistics, and placed it in front of them.
Worried that Huang might not understand, she patiently explained:
“This was a livestream I started on a whim yesterday. I just filmed the hamster, the lizard, and Heizi for a bit.
More than a thousand people watched.
After the platform took its cut, I still made over five hundred yuan.
I’ll take thirty percent and give seventy percent to the rescue center.
It’s not much right now, but later we can make videos and get advertising deals. Supporting a rescue center shouldn’t be a problem.”
“I understand all that,” Huang replied. “But who’s going to do the filming and editing?”
Traditional-minded as ever, he still opposed the idea.
He remained convinced that merging with the zoo was the more stable option.
“I can do it. I majored in photography in college. Filming won’t be a problem. We can use livestreams to build an audience first, then release edited videos later.”
“But—”
Huang tried to object again, only to be interrupted by Chen Zhiye.
“We can give it a try.”
That settled it.
Veterinarian Huang pursed his lips and stopped arguing. He simply packed up his things and prepared to head down the mountain.
Su Muzhi was a woman of action.
As soon as she gained Chen Zhiye’s support, she immediately prepared to start a livestream.
She had already decided the night before that filming the lecherous vulture would definitely attract attention.
Arriving at the vulture enclosure, she started the stream.
The viewer count rose quickly today.
Su Muzhi wasn’t in a hurry to speak, which made Chen Zhiye, standing beside her, somewhat anxious.
She gave him a look that said Relax.
Only after the viewer count stabilized at around two thousand did she slowly begin:
“This is a vulture we recently rescued. It enjoys thrilling activities and loves looking at pretty women.”
The chat was instantly filled with confusion and question marks.
Su Muzhi didn’t explain further.
Instead, she signaled for Chen Zhiye to enter the enclosure.
The moment the vulture noticed the unfamiliar man, its first instinct was aggression.
[Who dares trespass onto this great master’s territory?!]
Su Muzhi translated in real time:
“The vulture is currently thinking: ‘Who dares trespass onto this great master’s territory?!’”
Hearing this, Chen Zhiye couldn’t help turning to glance at her.
The corner of his mouth twitched.
He was beginning to doubt whether acting crazy like this could really make money.
Under his stare, Su Muzhi felt a little uneasy.
Damn it, why does this vulture have to be such a chuuni?
The vulture flapped its massive wings and prepared to intimidate Chen Zhiye.
[Watch me deliver a flying kick!]
Su Muzhi faithfully repeated its words.
The livestream chat exploded with laughter.
<The streamer shouldn’t be livestreaming. She should be writing novels. How can she make things up this well?>
Chen Zhiye didn’t indulge the bird at all.
He simply smacked the vulture on the head.
Under the phone camera’s gaze, the vulture’s eyes instantly became clear and innocent.
It immediately began rubbing itself against Chen Zhiye’s leg.
[This feeling is so familiar. Father! It’s Father! Your son is back!]
Grinding her teeth, Su Muzhi repeated the translation.
As she spoke, her toes were practically curling hard enough to dig out a three-bedroom apartment.
The chat first fell silent in disbelief.
Then some viewers noticed something strange.
<Wait a minute. I think the streamer is actually telling the truth. The vulture’s eyes really cleared up after getting smacked!>
<Yeah! I noticed too! It even started rubbing against him!>
Because of the vulture’s ridiculously chuunibyou lines, the livestream’s popularity surged again.
The viewer count shot toward five thousand.
And the gifts kept pouring in without stopping.