The System Mistook Me for a Cat

Like Chai Yi, a corporate slave, planning a trip early meant buying train tickets, hotels, and entrance tickets well in advance—otherwise, who knew if they could be secured at the last minute? But nature doesn't follow your plans. Once the weather turns cold, the red-rain falcons fly away.

Chai Yi: “…”

It’s fine. If I can’t see the birds, visiting the ranch still isn’t a bad idea. I’ve already booked everything.

But as an aspiring tourist, she couldn’t help but keep an eye on news about the ranch, worried that some “attraction” might quietly disappear, leaving her at a loss.

The entrance ticket wasn’t expensive, but train tickets and hotels sure were!

So, while on the subway, she came across a news push about Chu Tingwu. The winter in Guman City comes late, and the view was still a golden autumn. Without knowing the context, Chai Yi felt a bit confused because the news placed Chu Tingwu alongside a tiny black dot in the sky and pointed to that dot, claiming a red-rain falcon had passed through Guman City.

Chai Yi: “?”

Weren’t they reported on before? A group of red-rain falcons had flown overhead in nearby Kang City, and she heard bird-watching enthusiasts had rushed to the top of Lezhi Mountain to catch a glimpse. The news reports kept pushing the red-rain falcons as a topic, claiming that although they didn’t fly directly over our city, it was still the best observation spot.

Chai Yi got it: It was a just close encounter, huh?

She wasn’t a professional, having only been introduced to “bird-watching” during her university days in a club. She had saved up and bought equipment, which she still used after starting work. According to the news, only one red-rain falcon actually flew over Guman City this time, and it was a disoriented juvenile. Chai Yi’s experience told her that without quickly returning to the flock, this juvenile couldn’t possibly complete the migration on its own.

Because of this, Chu Tingwu’s so-called “chasing and photographing the red-rain falcon” seemed rather ritualistic. Whether she managed to photograph it or not wouldn’t change much, so Chai Yi wasn’t optimistic.

But she still found Chu Tingwu’s live stream and clicked in.

—She didn’t expect, nor did she actually watch the replay, so based on the gossip in tabloids, she hadn’t realized that Chu Tingwu never claimed to be “chasing” the bird.

Just as expected of a video blogger with millions of followers, Chai Yi thought. Even with the host on a meal break and the screen black, there were still many people chatting in the comment section. The lines rolled by so fast that she could only squeeze in a single sentence amid the chatter:

“Is the host in Guman City?”

As she exited the subway, she looked down to type, a truck passing by.

The live stream screen suddenly lit up, but there was no human figure—only a view of the sky. Chai Yi unconsciously stopped, standing under the shade of an eaves, squinting at the seemingly shaky camera view: the small dot in the center grew larger and larger until finally, everyone could clearly see that the dot had become a small bird.

Its wings were not yet fully developed, but today’s weather was good. The bird in the camera kept flapping its wings, yet it seemed stationary. Chai Yi guessed that the drone’s speed was synchronized with the bird’s flight speed. But soon, everyone could clearly tell that the red-rain falcon was slowly descending.

A coordinate point appeared in the upper right corner. Chai Yi instinctively glanced up, though with the naked eye, she couldn’t see the high-altitude red-rain falcon. However, she was familiar with the map and could already tell that the bird was less than two kilometers away from her in a straight line.

“It’s kind of surreal...” she murmured.

If it weren’t for her love of these animals, she wouldn’t have invested the expensive amount of money to purchase the equipment for shooting scenes. During her various bird-watching trips, she had encountered occasions where birds showed affection toward humans… No matter how precious a protected animal is, it still lives in nature, and there’s always a chance to encounter one.

But a “red-rain falcon” in her “Guman City”? She found it hard to connect the two, even though she knew the larger flock once passed by the neighboring city on its migration route and that they were just passing guests.

They never even entered the door.

But this one… this unnamed juvenile, nicknamed “Dot,” had truly flown into her city and seemed ready to land for a rest.

When would it leave?

Did it still have the strength to continue flying and catch up with the main group?

Would it stay here forever...?

With a sense of belonging to the city, she felt a strange unease and embarrassment, facing this unfamiliar juvenile bird. Although this was an uninvited guest, the city indeed wasn’t a suitable place for it to live, and she sincerely wished it could return to the migration flock, just as she wished for a beautiful ending to a story.

Even if that story was far from her...

The red-rain falcon landed on the roof, hiding under the shadows of discarded junk. Its small, fluffy chest rose and fell, showing genuine exhaustion.

But then a pair of feet appeared in the frame, followed by half of a body seen from behind the camera, and finally, the person crouched down. The red-rain falcon, Dot, let out a rather delighted chirp.

Chu Tingwu started feeding the bird.

Chai Yi was speechless.

Did two minutes even pass since the red-rain falcon landed? When did she arrive? No, how could she be sure of where the red-rain falcon would land from such a height? After all, predicting a bird’s mind is difficult… who could know whether it would prefer a telephone wire, an eaves, or the roof of a van?

But Dot seemed incredibly happy.

It treated Chu Tingwu as a fellow bird and naturally began to accept the feeding. After finishing, it stood on her thighs with its two little legs apart, quickly collapsing into a shapeless bird pile.

At this moment, the camera shifted as if the host adjusted the handheld lens:

“Wearing VR gear…? Not for now. I took off the equipment before coming up because it might affect my speed and movements later. Yes, although VR equipment has been improved twice, further reducing weight and increasing comfort, the presence of the glasses still affects certain movements. I’ll have the company continue improving it—”

Chai Yi realized this was about Wusheng Group’s VR live-streaming equipment, which was incredibly popular among streamers nowadays. VR outdoor live-streaming was a new trend, and the more streamers used it, the more casual users bought the viewing devices… But that statement sounded way too arrogant. What’s with “have them continue improving”? Chai Yi muttered in her heart, then glanced at the comments.

…Turns out the host is the CEO of Wusheng Group.

Oh, never mind then.

She saw the host adjust her clothes, stuffing the tired red-rain falcon into a “pocket.” The bird rested, but the person didn’t stop; instead, she quietly maneuvered along an “alley” that only existed on the rooftops.

Chai Yi noticed that the host might have been avoiding areas with the highest human traffic in the city out of concern for the noise affecting the red-rain falcon. However—

She twitched her mouth corner.

How come the camera also caught their company, and the manager holding a phone and filming at a corner?@@novelbin@@

She quickly switched to the company group chat and found that the company was indeed talking about the host traveling over rooftops: The host’s company had previously contacted them, likely coordinating with other companies along the way, expressing their desire to use the route… Regular people might need a lot of negotiation, but with the host’s status, almost no one would refuse.

Chai Yi rushed to the company, still somewhat absent-minded, occasionally switching to the live stream video to check on things. The red-rain falcon’s physical distance from her grew larger and larger, but the interaction between the bird and the host in the video was live-streamed, so she knew a small bird was resting in a corner of the city, currently at Jiao Mountain Orthopedic Hospital. Moreover, the bird seemed very lively after resting, much more energetic than a typical migratory bird, happily hopping around to thank Chu Tingwu.

Chai Yi: “…” No, you’ve got it wrong, she tricked you! She’s not your “kindred spirit” who flew you here. After walking through the urban area, she took a car for the rest of the trip.

Chai Yi didn't know whether her exasperation was related to the "I can see the host but can't touch them" feeling. Sometime in the future, she would go back and watch Chu Tingwu's live recordings, witnessing more "but I can't touch them" moments, which might help her adjust her mindset.

The Red-billed Leiothrix took off into the air.

But it soon returned, flapping its wings in front of Chu Tingwu, as if calling her to join.

At this point, the viewers were certain—

[Dian Dian…probably has racial recognition issues, right?]

[But I remember Chu Tingwu mentioning that someone else truly has racial recognition issues… referring to the system ==]

[What are you talking about? Chu Tingwu is obviously a cat, everyone thinks so. Did everyone get it wrong?]

[That just makes Dian Dian's recognition skills even worse! She even thinks a cat is a bird!]

Chu Tingwu: "=="

She ignored the audience's banter and waved toward the front. The sky was a bit dim, but the helicopter ahead was still clearly visible.

— In Qihe City, she indeed couldn't fly, but here in Guman City, her familiar turf, she could apply for a flight route and had access to the helicopter landing pad at Jiao Mountain Orthopedic Hospital.

At least she could fly alongside Dian Dian for a while.

However, the little bird, brought into the helicopter, still felt dizzy. She seemed to want to fly out but hesitated, not landing on Chu Tingwu's shoulder, nor flying away, just hovering and flapping her wings, gradually becoming accustomed to the speed.

Besides Chu Tingwu, there was another passenger on the helicopter. The person helped Chu Tingwu gear up but looked quite nervous. The live chat seemed to sense something, but since the camera didn't turn that way, they were uncertain.

The helicopter continued to ascend, and in the distance appeared the famous scenic spot of Guman City, the Shencong Lake. Against the twilight, small boats were returning to shore, tree shadows swayed gently, and the last rays of the sun elongated the shadows of the big trees by the lake.

Chu Tingwu chirped twice, and the Red-billed Leiothrix seemed to make a decision.

As it shot out of the helicopter, Chu Tingwu also leapt into the air.

Chai Yi exclaimed "Damn!" and stood up from her seat, only to find that her colleague's computer screen showed the same scene, though with less dramatic reactions—

Chu Tingwu didn't fall; instead, she deployed her wingsuit.

The device for solo wingsuit flying opened like a colorful bat, and the camera followed Chu Tingwu from behind, occasionally switching to her first-person perspective. The vast lake surface gleamed softly, like a shimmering "embrace."

…Chai Yi had never seen Shencong Lake from this perspective before. It was calm, and even the gliding descent seemed gentle. The young Red-billed Leiothrix flew for a while, then landed coquettishly on Chu Tingwu's back, but she soon let out a slightly hurried and serious chirp. The young bird responded with a chirp.

Below was the lake, above was the sky. The camera captured the shadows of the human and the bird—

The shadows of the large and small figures parted, with the human shadow growing larger and the bird reverting to a tiny dot in the air, leaving only a string of chirps behind.

The streamer continuously adjusted her direction.

Chai Yi was witnessing someone else's wingsuit flight for the first time. In the city, perhaps only places like Shencong Lake allowed such activities; otherwise, getting tangled in power lines or crashing into residential areas would be disastrous. Coming down from such a height, the descent seemed quick, and soon the lake below came into clearer view. The sky was dim and ambiguous, and the lake, stirred by the wind, became less pristine.

Chai Yi sat back down but couldn't help worrying:

Could she still see clearly? If she landed in the lakeῳ*Ɩ, the streamer probably had rescuers on standby, but with the sky so dark, it would be quite dangerous, right?

As she let her thoughts wander, she heard a soft laugh.

A few seconds later, the streamer landed on the grass across the lake, sitting up with bushes on her head, waving at the camera:

"Next up will be some boring travel content, so I'll go offline first."

From the corner of the camera…a car had already arrived.

Chai ​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​​‌​​​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​​​​​‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​​​​‌‍Yi: "?"

She saw the live chat cursing, saying this was the streamer's first wingsuit flight, and they hadn't practiced at all before pulling off something so big.

Chai Yi: "??"

Don't go offline now! Can't you stretch out the video a bit and chat with everyone during the travel time?

She almost floated through the rest of her work, leaving the office still wondering where the human and the bird had gotten to. Then she saw a news push—

It was a video excerpt from the "Cats Can't Learn" offline city tournament quarterfinals held in the neighboring Kang City.

But the focus wasn't the result of the match; instead, during the intermission projection performance at the stadium, the audience saw a projection of a flock of Red-billed Leiothrix flying by.

This had been shown in the pasture before, so using it as an easter egg was understandable.

But after the match, some audience members checked their recorded videos and, after comparing them with the program list, noticed something was off.

The bird projection seemed to have been inserted unexpectedly, so the viewer watched the footage multiple times, extracting a tiny detail:

"This Red-billed Leiothrix…is actually real, right?"

How did a real bird end up in the projection?! Even if it's real, the official projection was already playing, yet they didn't mention it at all?

Is this a designed animal performance…or did the animal insist on performing itself?

Under pressure, the organizers eventually issued a half-hearted statement:

The projection was actually made for this passing Red-billed Leiothrix, so everyone guessed wrong.

— An animal's performance =_=