Twenty meters away, a middle-aged man in a khaki uniform stood rooted to the spot, his mouth half open.
Fang Zhiyuan. The head of the Special Affairs Bureau's Northwest Region.
Before he came, Han Songyue had reminded him repeatedly, "Mr. Chen's mount is one of the Three Blue Birds, and it can grow or shrink. Prepare yourself." He had thought he was ready.
He wasn't.
Watching a giant bird shrink into a sparrow in three seconds delivered a shock that no amount of mental preparation could dispel.
Only when he saw Chen Hao get up from the sand and brush off his trouser legs did he snap out of it.
Fang Zhiyuan hurried forward and held out his hand.
"Mr. Chen! Welcome to the Bahrain Desert!"
He spoke twice as fast as normal, his voice taut with the effort of staying composed.
Chen Hao shook his hand. "Hello, Chief Fang."
Fang Zhiyuan's gaze involuntarily drifted behind Chen Hao—the sparrow-sized Three Blue Birds was perched on Chen Siyao's shoulder, preening its feathers with its beak, looking utterly harmless.
He forced his gaze back.
"Mr. Chen, would you like to rest at the Command Center first? We've prepared—"
"No need." Chen Hao interrupted him, his tone calm but decisive. "Straight to the Rift."
Fang Zhiyuan paused for a beat.
"All right! I'll arrange a vehicle."
"No need for that either. How far is it on foot?"
"About three kilometers in a straight line, but the sand is difficult to walk on..."
"Then we'll walk."
Fang Zhiyuan said no more. He waved over two Special Affairs Bureau personnel to lead the way, and the group headed southeast across the sand.
Chen Siyao walked beside Chen Hao and lowered her voice. "Director Han said this vortex would take two months to stabilize naturally. What