The System Mistook Me for a Cat-Chapter 207

Chu Tingwu was about to open her eyes when she felt the weight of a warm, solid body pressing against her shoulder. It was probably because the weather outside was too cold, and even though the room was warm enough, Sanwuwu had snuggled into the same blanket with her.

She smiled and reached out to stroke the mother cat’s head, but she could still sense another presence in the room… the scent was familiar, so she stretched out her foot and gave a kick, successfully sending Shikuai tumbling off the bed.

The black cat landed on the carpet with a soft “thud,” looking slightly dazed, but then, as if nothing had happened, it jumped back up—though it failed the first time—and nestled back beside Chu Tingwu.

Chu Tingwu was sandwiched between the two cats. At first, it was fine, but soon she couldn’t take the heat anymore and threw off the blanket:

“It’s so hot…”

It was time to get up and wash.

Last night, none of them had been able to resist staying up late. Although the sky outside remained almost unchanged due to the polar night, Aunt Mei had calculated the time and time difference precisely, allowing them to stay up two hours later than usual before shooing them off to bed.

When Chu Tingwu climbed into bed, Sanwuwu, who had a regular sleep schedule, was already asleep at the head of the bed. The cat only opened its eyes when Chu Tingwu got in, making room for her.

Shikuai, on the other hand, had snuck up at some point.

By the time she went downstairs with the two cats, the windowsills were already covered in a layer of snow. However, the roads outside had just been cleared. They had just finished breakfast when Shao Lingwu’s parents arrived.

When Shao Lingwu had called home the night before, he hadn’t lied, but he had omitted some details. For instance—

He said he had run into a friend in Melmos, and since his cousin and older sister couldn’t drive, he decided to stay at his friend’s place for the night and play some games together.

What he didn’t mention was that his cousin couldn’t drive because he was in the hospital, needing psychological treatment, nor did he say that after running into this friend, they had ended up at the police station, getting up close and personal with some criminals and even helping to tie them up.

If it had been anyone else, they might have posted seven or eight updates on social media, but Shao Lingwu only posted one, with a photo of himself next to the Melmos town sign, proving he had actually made it to the scenic spot.

Shao’s parents, on the other hand, had heard about their nephew’s hospitalization that morning and learned about their ordeal—so the reason they had parted ways with Shao Lingwu halfway through the trip couldn’t be hidden anymore.

Of course, the parents were both angry and worried.

“How could they leave a minor like you alone on the road—”

Shao Lingwu: “I’m almost an adult… really, I’m not hurt. I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want you to worry. Everything’s been taken care of anyway.”

Shao’s Mother, who was clearly of mixed heritage with deep brown hair and green eyes, and whose features were softer than those of a typical Russian, scolded her son and then turned to Chu Tingwu to thank her.

Chu Tingwu felt like Aunt Mei was watching her from behind, while Teacher Zhang shook his head and chuckled.

She felt even more guilty: “No need to thank me. I even took Garfield to confront those people later… and almost put him in danger.”

Shao’s Mother smiled: “Following you was Garfield’s own decision. Regardless of the outcome, he is responsible for his actions—what I want to thank you for is something else. The police told me that if you hadn’t shown up in time, Lovkis and the others would have been in serious danger… Even though I’m furious with their behavior and have decided to cut ties with them in the future, I still don’t want them to die or get hurt.”

“You are a brave and strong girl,” the adult woman opened her arms, “I’m grateful for what you did for them. Even though I’ve brought gifts to express my gratitude, I still feel it’s not enough… May I hug you?”

Chu Tingwu could understand where Shao Lingwu’s carefree, relaxed demeanor came from.

He had parents who always offered encouragement and affirmation, providing not just emotional support but also practical help. Shao Lingwu himself had the ability to act on his ideas… Even if he suddenly decided to drop out of school or give up easily attainable honors, his parents wouldn’t see it as a waste of all the years he had spent studying.

But Chu Tingwu wasn’t envious.

She had the system by her side.

When Shao’s parents were about to leave, Shao Lingwu dragged his feet, carrying his violin, probably still thinking about the games from last night. Chu Tingwu called out to him and tossed him a simply wrapped gift box.

Shao Lingwu: “?”

“Your birthday is in two days, right?” Chu Tingwu shrugged, “By then, I’ll probably be on an icebreaker, so here’s your gift and birthday wishes in advance. Happy birthday.”

Shao Lingwu was momentarily stunned, then gave her a goofy, radiant smile and waved as he got back into the car.

Shao’s Mother, sitting in the passenger seat, glanced back and noticed the gift was only about the size of a palm. The box wasn’t a branded gift box but looked more like a candy box—well, it was opened, and there was no candy inside.

Shao Lingwu: “Chu Tingwu ate the candy, but she did share two pieces with me.”

He hadn’t even noticed the box at the time.

Shao’s Mother: Hmm… so what did she prepare as a gift? With such a small box, and in this remote town, could it be a local souvenir?

Shao Lingwu: “It’s a data card that can only be viewed using a VR pod.”

He had a flight home that evening, and after a day of rest, he would be able to check the contents of the data card on his birthday.

That was Shao Lingwu’s plan.

When he got home, he found even more gifts waiting for him. Since his birthday the next day marked his eighteenth, Shao’s Father, true to his nature, had booked a hotel for a grand coming-of-age celebration that would last all day… Relatives and friends would be attending, and those who couldn’t make it had sent either large gifts or items from Shao’s parents’ business associates.

Shao’s Mother watched as her son walked toward his room with his usual casual stride, but halfway there, he suddenly changed direction and headed straight for the study where the VR pod was kept.

Shao’s Mother: “Hmph.”

Shao Lingwu had already inserted the data card and selected the imported video in VR mode.

He saw a sunset.

The “sunset” in Antarctica hung on the horizon, burning fiercely, never setting, with only a difference in the color of the light compared to daytime. The surrounding ice floes, which usually glowed with an eerie blue, now reflected the twilight, making the small boat seem to drift through a peculiar, dark sea of light.

The ice in front and the water below appeared to be the same color.

No… the water was indeed freezing, but the ice layer was thin, and the boat wasn’t moving—it was just drifting with the current.

Shao Lingwu guessed this was a VR video Chu Tingwu had recorded, and he was viewing it from a spectator’s perspective, following her as she observed the surroundings. But there were others on the boat—some wore bitter smiles, while others patted their companions, looking both amused and exasperated—

Even without dialogue, Shao Lingwu could tell: the boat’s propulsion system had failed, leaving them stranded and waiting for rescue.

Then the leader tossed over an oar.

Let’s row back!

Whether out of exhaustion or lack of enthusiasm, no one spoke, except for a few who exchanged quiet words, quickly learning how to row—while Chu Tingwu had already started.

Shao Lingwu heard the sound of “ice breaking.”

Following Chu Tingwu’s perspective, he saw her lower her head as the oar shattered the thin ice, causing the seawater beneath to churn. The closer she got to the water’s surface, the more distant the voices of the others seemed.

Crack, splash.

As the boat moved forward, the waves gently rolled, and the fragmented ice collided, creating a sound like a whale song that didn’t belong in this place.

But Shao Lingwu did hear something unusual—not just the sound of breaking ice, waves, or the murmurs of people… but also a whale.

When the group spotted the whale passing by, the wind began to pick up.

The voices grew louder at the sight of the whale, but the wind made them fragmented, leaving only one sound clear—

Splash, crack.

Chu Tingwu swung the oar down, parting the ice.

She seemed too focused, as if she had found joy in it, something others might not understand… because they couldn’t hear it.

But he could.

A more precise sound-receiving device allowed him to hear the notes hidden beneath different tones… every note Chu Tingwu wanted him to hear.

But perhaps that wasn’t what she intended to convey. Everyone hears a different song from nature.

Shao Lingwu loved this gift and silently added "go to Antarctica" to his bucket list, waiting for the day he could cross it off.

Maybe right after the college entrance exams? When it came to things he wanted to do, he never waited too long.

Meanwhile, the person in the video had been rescued. The wind gradually died down, voices grew louder, and the small boat drifted away, as if a whale was singing a song humans couldn’t understand…

Shao Lingwu suddenly felt himself raising his hand—no, it was Chu Tingwu raising her hand.

She placed her index finger to her lips—

"Shh."

When the person in the video spoke, their voice drowned out the wind and the chatter of others. All Shao Lingwu could hear was that single sound—

"Shh."

The video ended.

Shao's Mother was on the phone with the hotel, finalizing the guest list. Although it had been reviewed beforehand, she wanted to double-check for any oversights. Seeing Shao Lingwu rush out, she called out, "On your birthday, let’s have lunch with the guests, and then celebrate just the two of us in the evening? You’ve just come back, and you must be tired."

"My birthday…" Shao Lingwu leaned against the door of the music room and tossed out a sentence before closing it, "Mom, you can celebrate for me. I won’t be there. I’m a bit busy."

Shao's Mother: "…"

Is this something I can do for you?

She was about to say more, but the door to the music room had already closed—this state was familiar to her over the past six months. It meant her son had suddenly been struck by creative inspiration again.

Shao's Mother: "…………"

On the day of the birthday, most of the guests had come with the intention of socializing, but they were puzzled by the changes in the hotel’s decorations:

Weren’t they here to celebrate the child’s birthday and his coming-of-age ceremony?

Why had the theme shifted to celebrating Shao's Mother for raising Shao Lingwu to eighteen? It seemed like the same thing, but the recipient of the blessings had shifted from the son to the mother!

And the one being celebrated wasn’t even there. In his place stood a substitute: a large Garfield plushie placed between the cakes.

-

While Shao Lingwu was (sort of) celebrating his birthday, Chu Tingwu was on her way to the Dragon Lake Research Station in the interior of Antarctica.

The research station was built on a snow-capped mountain at an altitude of 4,700 meters, the final stop on the team’s expedition.

Logically, everyone should have been nervous, excited, and worried about whether their bodies could handle the journey inland.

But instead, they were discussing—

How to write a tabletop RPG scenario set in the interior of Antarctica.

Updat𝒆d fr𝒐m freewebnσvel.cøm.

"Survival-based? Maybe our vehicle time-travels to a future ice age apocalypse? The extreme cold on the continent would just be the norm for Antarctica, so we’d have the upper hand."

"That’s a bit too boring. There’s no boss to fight. How about we discover a giant monster sleeping in the Antarctic ice, and one by one, everyone starts going insane—ow, who hit me!"

"By the way, Chu Chu, what do you think?"

Chu Tingwu opened her eyes.

Through the window, even though the vehicle ahead was close, driving here still gave a sense of being utterly alone.

And the Dragon Lake Research Station was the only survival stronghold in the interior of Antarctica.

Chu Tingwu: "A murder mystery at the Antarctic research station. With a little communication breakdown, it’s perfect for a ‘locked-room mystery’ scenario."

Everyone: "…"

They lowered their heads and continued the discussion.

"I suggest we remove that kind of character who’s elusive, ridiculously strong, and always sneaking around."

"Right, with sharp senses, superhuman hearing, incredible physical abilities, quick reflexes, and the ability to take on ten people at once… If someone like that wanted to kill, would they even need to commit a crime? It’d just turn into a battle royale. Let’s ban that kind of character from the start."

Chu Tingwu: "==" Hey!