The System Mistook Me for a Cat

When the TV station's vehicle entered the Shanwan Ranch area, Chu Tingwu was already live-streaming by the dock.

The audience had been curious for a while—recently, UP was always using the red rain falcons as the theme for her live streams. It was understandable, as she at least fulfilled her monthly live-streaming requirements. But how could she, the boss herself, keep directly entering the "temporary reserve areas" so frequently? Wasn't it said that red rain falcons were easily frightened by humans?

Chu Tingwu replied, "Haven't you seen their videos of sneaking into the kitchen to steal food? Do they look scared to you?"

Rather than being "afraid," it was more that humans worried about these little creatures getting hurt, so ignorant tourists were banned from visiting. Additionally, red rain falcons are quite demanding about their living environment. They won't land and build nests unless they believe the current environment is suitable for breeding. If human activities disturb their lives too much, the birds might get nervous and abandon their nests, flying away again.

That's why the ranch has cordoned off such a large area, installed cameras, and only allows a few professionals to enter daily. Lucky viewers can only watch from a distance.

However, Chu Tingwu lifted her camera to show the livestream audience the bustling camping area. Two days ago, the hotel began accepting reservations, but many tourists still chose to camp. Armed with professional equipment, they didn't need the ranch to provide binoculars. Every day, they were full of energy, getting up early and staying up late... Chu Tingwu had even been added to their birdwatching group.

Occasionally, some viewers in the live stream would argue that Chu Tingwu shouldn't "abuse her privileges" by frequently entering the bird's living areas, disturbing their lives, and using the birds' status as protected animals as a live-streaming gimmick.

Other veteran viewers usually didn't argue directly but instead shared links to Chu Tingwu's past live streams, with the video about wild wolves in the Red Stone Reserve always on top.

[Not to mention... it feels like the birds are the ones disturbing human life.]

[Exactly, even though such a large area by the lake has been allocated to these little birds, they still like to fly outside. There was a tourist who tried to catch a bird on the hotel roof, and the next day, the ranch tickets were reduced by two thousand! Two thousand—how infuriating!]

Chu Tingwu: "Reducing the number of tickets during the off-season is normal..."

In fact, Chu Tingwu's live streaming was also about collecting the footage she needed. Just two days ago, a drone with a red rain falcon-shaped biomimetic shell was launched—the company's drones seemed to be venturing further into the realm of animal-like collectibles—but once the drone moved, the birds scattered, chirping nervously, and didn't recognize the machine as one of their own, despite the shell's resemblance.

If the drone didn't move, what was the difference between it and a fixed camera?

Chu Tingwu took out the drone ball and quickly found that the birds adapted to this better, though the system seemed a bit sad.

The seagull drone often perched on the hotel roof, using its dark mechanical eyes to observe the bird flock across the way, occasionally spreading its wings and strutting around to drive away the red rain falcons that flew over.

Then the tourists would say Chu Tingwu had too much free time, using the biomimetic drone like a real bird-shaped pet.

Chu Tingwu: "..."

The system then took on the task of driving away the local sparrows, otherwise, the protected species would clash with the lesser-concern species.

Then the tourists would say the ranch was so thoughtful, using drones for bird control.

What the tourists said didn't matter to Chu Tingwu, but when she held the camera back at the lakeside dock, she heard the birds chirping overhead, discussing the "big bird" across the way. Although the "big bird" felt strange to them—they certainly didn't have any genetic memory of such a creature—they decided to pay it toll tomorrow for its services in driving away the sparrows.

Chu Tingwu grabbed a plump red rain falcon to check the wing where it had lost a feather after hitting the windshield wiper yesterday. The bird chirped for its companions to save it, but they only laughed at it for flying into the wrong place again and getting entangled in vines.

Chu Tingwu let go and set the bird free, and the flock began to avoid her.

But they were carefree and had short memories. In a few days, they would forget about it and return to her hair, trying to find some snacks inside.

While she was filming, the TV station's cameras were also capturing the birds, capturing her as well.

This was a program team from the national broadcaster, which had contacted the park before. The team seemed to be old acquaintances with several experts in the specialist group. When Chu Tingwu finished shooting her footage and walked out, she overheard their conversation.

However, meeting them, Chu Tingwu realized there was someone she knew here too—Director He, who had worked with her on the police cat documentary.

Director He knew about her gold medal in the competition, which guaranteed her admission to any university in the country. He first congratulated her and then asked about her chosen school.

When he heard her answer, he seemed a bit regretful: "Though I know the possibility is slim... I think you could also study photography."

In modern terms, the girl was practically a "natural-born documentary prodigy"!

But given her grades, studying directing would be a bit of a waste.

Chu Tingwu had already decided on her school, and now had new insights about the questions people around her had asked about her future: "I am learning."

"The major in university, or even the direction of further studies, doesn't truly determine what I'll do in the future. I'm just receiving this period of education," she thought for a moment, "Right now, I'm learning and practicing what interests me. After graduation, or even ten, twenty years later, I can still learn new things."

Life is long, and every beginning, whenever it happens, is a good start.

Director He seemed very happy. He pointed at Chu Tingwu and told the others, "Well, I told you, this kid is perfect for documentaries."

Not for skills or wealth, but for talent and mindset.

The national broadcaster's visit this time was to film a documentary related to the red rain falcons. In fact, they had been following the story of these birds for some time, but unlike Chu Tingwu's documentary "Police Cat," the footage for the documentary might only be aired five or ten years later. It would record the long life of several generations of the red rain falcon flock, documenting how the entire species had evolved and changed over the years.

In the broader timeline, today's small flock landing by the lake at Shanwan Ranch, a news item reported on the internet for days, might be insignificant in the documentary.

They would always land somewhere—not necessarily at Shanwan Ranch, but perhaps at other scenic spots, riverbanks, or even private gardens on rooftops.

Though Chu Tingwu was the owner of the ranch, she wasn't arrogant. Following the national broadcaster's camera team, she continued to assist Director He.

Director He wasn't the head of the project, but since he had worked with Chu Tingwu before and considering this was a private ranch, he had been sent over to help mediate. However, there was no need for mediation; they quickly integrated into the camera crew.

Three days later, Chu Tingwu was sitting by her feet, with Chengcheng lying at her side and Three Five Five resting on her knees, reviewing the footage, when an expert came over—

"Wu," the familiar expert frowned, "We rescued a red rain falcon outside the ranch."

They had found the bird at a nearby city's residential building. It seemed to have been chased by an eagle, injured its wings, and fallen to the rooftop, where it was discovered by a resident who was hanging clothes on the roof.

The resident fed it water and food and then contacted the rescue station—initially, they thought it was just a common bird and planned to release it after its wings healed. But with the recent hype in live streams, a quick search online revealed the bird to be a red rain falcon, which could mean "life imprisonment" for whoever found it.

The rescuer was very anxious: "Was it hunted? Did the national protectec eagle chase him to my rooftop? Did we catch the hunter? Can we find him on the surveillance?"

The rescue station was speechless: "Really... it was the eagle."

It was a city kestrel—humans can catch people, but they can’t catch falcons. This is another case of a non-dangerous animal attacking a national first-class protected species. Yet, despite humans categorizing animals, they cannot truly alter the instinctual hunting dynamics between animals.

This petite rufous-rain kestrel was taken to a rescue station, but it quickly showed signs of "anxiety." They provided it with a spacious enclosure, but it began self-harming and became hypersensitive to human sounds, eventually refusing to drink by the third day.

It wasn’t trying to threaten the humans who rescued it with its life; it was simply terrified.

Discussions arose about whether to release the rufous-rain kestrel (whose injuries had healed considerably) directly into the wild. Ultimately, the rescue station decided to send this temporarily nicknamed "Little Spot" kestrel to Shanwan Ranch.

Being alone or being part of a whole rufous-rain kestrel flock—human-designated protected areas or areas chosen by the flock itself—the latter clearly increased Little Spot's chances of survival.

Chu Tingwu went to pick up the bird and noticed that "Little Spot" indeed had some patchy feathers… But the original reason for the nickname wasn’t because of its balding; rather, it was because the tiny spots at the ends of its wings were strikingly symmetrical.

It looked weak, with food and water available but no appetite. It curled up in a corner of the cage, its red beak resembling a dark chocolate studded with red raspberry jam.

System: "Dessert tonight? Fancy some of that?"

Chu Tingwu: "=="

But integrating into the flock wasn’t as simple as just letting it join. Bird flocks, like human crowds, weren’t much different. Chu Tingwu, having learned from the photography crew, could guess that the weak Little Spot would likely be bullied.

Should ​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​​​‌​​‌‌​​​​​​‌‌‌​​‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌‌​​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​​‌‌‍humans intervene?

Near the lake, the calls of other rufous-rain kestrels could be heard, and Little Spot seemed to perk up. It pressed its head against the cage door, looking around at the outside space, then let out a call.

Everyone decided to place the cage at Shanwan Ranch. The cage was more open, allowing other birds to see Little Spot… Waiting for the flock and Little Spot to negotiate on their own, the humans chose the right moment to open the cage.

But that night, the bird food in the cage was stolen.

Chu Tingwu: "=="

Chu Tingwu: "I told you, they’ve been more and more out of control lately, like bandits."

To minimize the "negative impact" of human scent, Chu Tingwu (though no one knew why the birds seemed to treat her almost like one of their own, but that was her gift) was tasked with refilling Little Spot’s food.

With a camera pinned to her collar, it showed Little Spot hopping around in the cage, showing no more signs of self-harm.

Chu Tingwu finished swapping the food and water. In the corner of the camera’s view, a group of rufous-rain kestrels leisurely observed from a distance.

The rescue station, protection experts, and the photography crew were observing from afar. Chu Tingwu waved her hand, hearing through her earpiece: "Open the cage."

Little Spot took off, but didn’t fly far.

It quickly landed, straddling its legs, tilting its head to stare at its fellow kestrels on the trees and rocks.

A few kestrels flew over. Little Spot flapped its wings hard, only to see them fly past and land next to Chu Tingwu, pecking at her palm.

Chu Tingwu: "All out."

Then another flew into the cage, smartly kicking a claw to close the door.

Chu Tingwu: "…"

So it was you guys who stole the parrot’s food the other day! And not only did you steal it, but you scattered it everywhere!

Little Spot stayed where it was, looking around at its fellow kestrels with confusion, occasionally giving sharp little chirps and flapping its wings, trying to join them, but no one paid it any mind.

It kept hopping in the grass, wings flailing, until finally, it lifted its head and completed a loop in mid-air, then dove straight into the middle of a scuffle near the cage, joining the "I-grab-my-food" frenzy.

Chu Tingwu took a step back, hearing sighs of relief from the others monitoring through her earpiece, filled with satisfaction.

Chu Tingwu stuffed her hands in her pockets, walking to the top of the slope, turning around. A gust of wind swept by, and the rufous-rain kestrel flock all took off at once, black birds filling the sky, flying over the lake, then diving down. The spots on their feathers glinted in the light, their red beaks reflecting the sunlight, as if a sudden rain of sunshine had fallen.

Little Spot squeezed in the middle, managing to keep up with the flock, looking energetic and even a bit fierce.

After half an hour, about ten rufous-rain kestrels, including Little Spot, flew out of the temporary sanctuary.@@novelbin@@

The rescue station staff hadn’t left yet. Seeing this, they grew concerned: "What’s going on?"

Recognizing their flight direction, Chu Tingwu was silent for a moment, then adjusted the seagull drone’s view to show them—

The footage captured the kestrels landing on top of a windmill, with Little Spot squeezed in the middle, chirping at the drone.

"It’s this big guy’s fault!"

"Not only does this big guy chase other birds away, but it also flies behind our poop!"

System: That’s for cleaning! For marking and then sending a machine to clean up!

"Look at that, it’s so weird!"

Chu Tingwu: "They’re just watching the show… Don’t worry."

She reassured the system: "I’ll make these guys pay a protection fee later."

Acting tough, huh? Well, once they’re done, we’ll collect their feathers for bird feather dusters.

System: "Great, great." These will make perfect toys for the little ones.

The system didn’t realize… it was the one picking up the feathers, after all.

This counts as a protection fee?