Cat 165: Female Lead Replaced

Chapter 165: Female Lead Replaced

The fourth male lead, Si Hao, saw a white shape float past the window, but no one else did, and most of the NPCs just brushed it off.

The assistant director said, “Si Hao, just keep doing the same performance next take, you nailed it.”

Such a sharp tongue—several NPCs laughed quietly. Everyone knew Si Hao only got in through backdoor connections; with his acting skills, there’s no way he would have made the cut on his own.

The players didn’t care; all that mattered was the story had begun.

Hidden in the bag, Yan Jiyun didn’t even dare look out. Si Hao really had seen a ghost—he’d seen the white shadow himself just before.

He hadn’t expected Mr. Qu to be this unrestrained, triggering supernatural events so brazenly.

Today was October 1st, just as the script said. This pointed to something important for the players.

Did someone in the crew deliberately choose today to film? Who decided the date?

One of the staff whispered to another, “Does Mingya High really have that legend? It sounds freaky. And today is October 1st—what if something really happens?”

“No idea, it’s probably just in the script. Don’t scare yourself; it’s not like it’s based on true events.”

“Si Hao says he saw a white shadow float past. Did you see anything? I think I glimpsed something too.”

“Nope, maybe he just wanted to spook us. He’s always causing trouble. Watch, he’ll post on Weibo soon about a ghostly encounter—instant trending topic.”

No one believed Si Hao had seen anything supernatural.

Currently in full “let it rot” mode, Yan Jiyun kept ears open but did not act.

Once filming began, some people handled logistics, others took celebrity assistants to set up tents in spare classrooms. They’d have to sleep here for the next four days and three nights, shooting all the scenes at Mingya High. Time was tight.

But the player’s real task was finding out who Mr. Qu was, within four days.

After eavesdropping all around the crew, Yan Jiyun found several people suspicious.

Finding Mr. Qu in Mingya High 2.0 was harder than finding his fragments in Childlike Innocence.

In that world, you just needed to find the duplicated good-and-evil personalities; here, you had to distinguish the true main personality and the vice personality—now fully opposed. Only by rooting out and defeating the vice could the main persona reclaim control, and only then could the players leave Mr. Qu’s subconscious world.

Figuring out his goal, Yan Jiyun knew how to proceed.

By finding the two opposing sides in Mingya 2.0, they could isolate the real Mr. Qu—and, by process of elimination, identify the vice persona.

Easier said than done. With such a huge cast, he’d have to rebuild the whole web from scratch.

For now, his focus would be the leads and the crew’s key decision-makers.

Who had the power to gather everyone here in the first place?

Both the producer and director were prime suspects. So was Qu Wanchao—as a major draw, the director would want him in, and Qu would use his fame to bring along others eager to mooch some popularity.

Among the actors, Yan Jiyun noticed several were about the same age; what their backstory was, he didn’t know yet.

He couldn’t help but recall the original Mingya High scenario; weren’t there students playing Ouija board in the music building? What campus secrets would he have to dig up this time?

Despite feeling sick, Yan Jiyun paid attention to the actors’ chatter and managed to pick up quite a bit from the NPCs.

There were seven important leads, not counting Si Hao’s “girlfriend” and his lackey.

Besides Qi Feng, the seven are:

Female lead No. 1, Su Xiran, who shared most of her scenes with Qi Feng;
Second female, a middling starlet trying to cozy up to the second male lead;
Third female—plays the lead’s gentle, pretty friend;
Fourth female—innocent, cute type;
Second male, Qu Wanchao, already introduced—a famous internet idol;
Third male, quietly practicing lines;
Fourth male, Si Hao—the one who “saw a ghost.”

Yan Jiyun also kept his eye on Director Jiang, Producer Ci, and the rest. The other extras and small NPCs were all buried in grunt work and barely had lines—probably unimportant, though you never knew. Sometimes the most ordinary NPC was the true BOSS—like the zoo manager in Crazy Animal Park, so he kept watching.

No one cared about Si Hao’s ghost story, so filming continued until eleven. Only then did Director Jiang dismiss them.

Producer Ci had the crew buy tons of late-night snacks: spicy crayfish, barbecue, fried rice noodles—the works.

Qi Feng, as male lead, got a nice platter. He peeled all the shrimp, washed off the sauce with cold water, and then gently woke the sleeping Yan Jiyun, feeding him lots of shrimp.

After several hours of rest, Yan Jiyun was much revived—and starving. The shrimp tasted especially good, especially with someone serving it.

After eating, Director Jiang came over and saw Qi Feng pushing peeled shrimp into the bag. The room was fully lit after filming, and the director caught sight of a black head peeking out.

Jiang fixed him with a stare. “What’s in your bag?”

Qi Feng said, blandly, “My puppy. Brought him for company.”

Jiang, on hearing it was a dog, lost interest at once. “Oh, I thought it was a cat.”

Qi Feng feigned annoyance. “Cats are skittish. If you frighten them, they bolt and can’t be found for days. They’re too sensitive.”

Jiang agreed, “True enough.”

Yan Jiyun felt Director Jiang was a bit odd—did he have some special interest in cats, or what?

He wanted water, but with Jiang still there, he didn’t dare stick his head out. Qi Feng, knowing how to cover for him, had even changed his species to protect his cover. If he stuck out his head now, it’d be rude.

Fortunately, Qu Wanchao called Director Jiang away, and Yan Jiyun immediately got his water.

Full and hydrated, he curled up in the bag to keep recuperating—his cold left him listless.

The crew gave the actors another half-hour of rest before shooting night scenes.

Qi Feng leaned against the classroom wall, bag and cat in arms, resting his eyes. Even he was exhausted; no one could keep going forever.

Half an hour later, nearly midnight, Director Jiang called for everyone to get ready.

Qi Feng, refreshed from napping, was much better.

Departments bustled as Director Jiang prepared to brief the female lead—but right then, her assistant charged in, panic on her face.

The assistant came in, breathless, “Director Jiang! Jiang! My Su-jie is missing!”

Jiang frowned, “What do you mean missing? She was just here.”

A missing lead always meant delays.

The assistant gasped, “I was with her—we went to the restroom, since the second floor was crowded, so we went up to the third. We went in together, were chatting the whole time. She came out first and said she’d wait for me, but when I came out, she was gone.”

Jiang said, “Maybe someone called her away; you probably didn’t hear in the restroom.”

The assistant shook her head. “But it was so quiet—I’d have heard. Su-jie isn’t the type to just disappear without a word.”

Jiang had seen it before: sometimes actors hid to find their state, missed call times—still, that was rare, only bigshots got away with it. Su was not yet famous enough to keep the director waiting.

Qi Feng volunteered, “Director Jiang, let me take my assistant and look for her. There’s no way to shoot my scenes without Su. My assistant is reliable, and this gives us a sensible reason to leave and do tasks.”

Jiang nodded; Lan Mo looked sturdy and night was falling, so having two men search was ideal.

Jiang also sent other staff to search.

Su Xiran had two assistants; the panicked one was Xiao Tang.

Leaving the classroom on the second floor, some staff went with Su’s other assistant to search the first floor, while Qi Feng led Xiao Tang upward toward the restrooms.

If Su disappeared outside the restroom, the first clue would be footprints.

With Xiao Tang present, neither Qi Feng nor Lan Mo could check the women’s restroom, but they checked the floor and walls—no sign of any struggle.

Yan Jiyun peeked out. His night vision was much better than Qi Feng’s or Lan Mo’s.

He double-checked—still, nothing unusual.

If Su wasn’t one to leave without a word, there should have been some sign—unless she was lured away by something that looked safe and didn’t feel the need to warn Xiao Tang.

With this logic, was there any sign she was enticed away?

Lan Mo’s flashlight picked out a red hair clip on a ledge near the window.

He asked Xiao Tang, “Is this Su’s?”

Xiao Tang nodded, “Yes! She wore it with her red dress—just told me how well it matched.”

Yan Jiyun: … Late at night and we’re talking red dresses? Now he didn’t even dare peek his head out, just hunkered down in the bag.

At that moment, a white blur dropped before them, a heavy impacto echoing through silent Mingya High.

Bang!

Having just ducked back in the bag, Yan Jiyun missed it—all three others saw clearly.

Lan Mo and Qi Feng rushed to the balcony and looked down. Under the lights brought for filming, the bodies and vehicles were clearly visible—a woman, in a white dress, lay outstretched.

It matched the lines Qu Wanchao had spoken earlier.

Qi Feng murmured, “The final second of October 1st.”

It took Xiao Tang a few moments to scream, “Someone jumped!”

Qi Feng and Lan Mo rushed down; they needed to check the scene firsthand.

A few others—Shi Yan and He Yuanle, who had been on the first floor—reached the spot even faster.

He Yuanle rolled the body over. “Shit, the face is mangled—disgusting!”

Shi Yan circled the body, “Still, it’s clear who it is.”

Qi Feng and Lan Mo arrived, followed by others.

Yan Jiyun smelled thick blood on the air. Though cats aren’t fazed by the scent, his human heart recoiled from raw human blood.

If not for the crowd, he’d have gone for a closer look. As it was, he waited for news.

Just what had happened at this high school in Mr. Qu’s youth? Was there a girl he’d cared about who jumped from this very building?

In both the Mermaid scenario and Mingya High, the key motifs were: a girl; suicide.

Quick confirmation followed: the white-dress woman was the recently-missing lead actress, Su Xiran.

Xiao Tang’s legs gave out; she just slumped, forgeting even to cry.

“Su—Su-jie, why…?”

“Oh god, how…?”

An NPC hugged themselves in terror, “Does this have to do with the October 1st rumor?”

“Could it really be true?”

“Was Si Hao’s ghost sighting real?”

“I’m going home at first light, I’m done with this place!”

The October 1st motif emerged again.

Now Yan Jiyun was sure—the day haunting Mr. Qu was October 1st.

Date: October 1st.
Location: school’s main teaching building.
Victim: female student.
Cause: falling from height.
Relationship to Mr. Qu: girlfriend? Crush? Friend?
Cause of death: suicide? Murder?

Panic swept the group; the NPCs were terrified.

Producer Ci and Director Jiang soon arrived, shocked and grieved at the sudden loss.

Hidden from view, Yan Jiyun couldn’t see their faces.

Shi Yan whispered to Qi Feng, “A few people looked pretty suspicious; during the break, they weren’t in the classroom, and tried to shake us any time we watched them.”

Qi Feng fell silent. “A girl was pushed from a building in the Mermaid scenario—this is very similar.”

Shi Yan: “You mean the scenarios are connected?”

Qi Feng: “Yes. You know the new main quest, right?”

Shi Yan nodded. “Find Mr. Qu.”

Qi Feng: “Lan Mo should have filled you in—this is Mr. Qu’s inner world. Whatever happens, it’s all tied to his experience. I think the white shadow matches the girl’s death in Mermaid; if we filter out the noise, the real event is that, in his high school years, an important girl died—on October 1st. That triggered his dissociative disorder.”

His words snapped things into focus for Yan Jiyun. Right—the girl must have mattered deeply. Did she die by her choice or someone else’s? Mr. Qu probably never learned the true story, especially not after getting sick. Each persona offers a different version, but what really happened?

In the Mermaid scenario: the girl was pushed by her best friend—over a boy.

Mingya High: cause unknown.

Shi Yan swiftly added, “In Mingya, the girl died because of jealous roommates. They tricked her out at midnight, drugged her, and delivered her to the school genius she liked—her boyfriend. Their goal was for him to take her virginity, humiliating her. But before anything could happen, other boys found out, and someone recorded everything. Afterward, the girl died of an overdose. The boys couldn’t find the person with the recording, so they went back—you guessed it, the girl was dead. Together with her roommates, they staged her suicide. The school hushed it up, the cops never released the details. Then someone started taking revenge on the boys and girls, but we hadn’t finished solving the whole case before being dragged into the new quest.”

A huge info dump.

No wonder Shi Yan was a high-level player—he’d taken the whole story almost to its end before the shift.

Now, it was their turn to solve Su Xiran’s murder.

Who would be the real culprit this time?

Qi Feng and Shi Yan continued their private exchange, out of earshot to anyone but Yan Jiyun, who could always hear everything, as if cheating.

[Be Human If You Can] Livestream Chat:

“Is the kitten about to get carried for a win? Looks like a two-person talk, but three are actually involved.”

“Am I the only one not tracking the plot? I just want to know if the kitten will recover from his cold.”

“I’m worried the kitten will get stomach problems from eating the shrimp.”

“No way—level 5 streamer said it’s his cat, hand-raised, he knows what its stomach can handle.”

“Whoa, after listening to the level 5 player, now I get it! Mr. Qu needs players to help him find out the truth about the girl’s death; all the Mingya High scenarios are his lingering obsession!”

“Then why was Childlike Innocence mixed in?”

“I don’t think it was a mistake—Mr. Qu wants the kitten and players to understand him, so they can find the truth and save him. Find the truth, you’ll find the main persona.”

“But what about the vice persona? You just know he’s going to sabotage everything. Honestly, I’m looking forward to that—I love the bad split personalities, hahahaha!”

Su Xiran, the first female lead, was out before finishing her first big scene.

Soon, the police arrived and took the body away.

But the crew stayed on to keep shooting.

All the NPCs were deeply hidden: Qi Feng’s party rushed to the rooftop, but it was spotless—whoever did it cleaned up perfectly. There was no trace; only through reasoning could they find the truth.

Yan Jiyun lost all urge to sleep; on the rooftop, he hopped out of Qi Feng’s bag and beat them downstairs.

He wanted to check the spot where Su’s hairpin dropped—hoping to find crucial evidence others missed.

After the incident, dozens of players were fanning out. In a dark corner, Yan Jiyun shifted to human form for easier searching and planned to meet up with Qi Feng and Gu Wenzhu.

He eyed his school uniform, then ducked into a second-floor costume room to change.

He didn’t care what he grabbed—just something quick.

Coming out, he bumped into Director Jiang, who stopped him with a word. “Wait.”

Yan Jiyun halted and bluffed, “Director, what is it?”

Jiang shook his head, “Never seen you before. Who are you?”

Yan Jiyun scrambled for a cover story: “I—”

Jiang interrupted, “A journalist?”

Startled, Yan Jiyun inwardly cheered: what a great guy, even invented his alibi for him. “Yeah, that’s me—I’m here about Qu Wanchao and Su Xiran’s rumored relationship!”

He’d overheard someone gossiping about the two earlier, so why not run with it?

Director Jiang narrowed his eyes, a dangerous glint in them. “You’ve got two choices: should I call the police to arrest you, or will you stay to work for me?”

Yan Jiyun protested, “I swear, I haven’t filmed a thing—I won’t report what happened to Su Xiran, either!”

Jiang chuckled, unconcerned. “Then you’ll stay and work. You’ve got good looks and bone structure, just right for my ideal female lead.”

Had he misheard? “???”

Seriously, you pick female leads like this? You can’t just snatch people off the hall, even to patch a scene!

Jiang smiled, “You want to know why I think you’re right? You’re wearing the outfit I picked for my female lead.”

Yan Jiyun cursed inwardly; he’d just grabbed a random trench coat! Was that bad luck, or what?

Jiang: “It’s the male lead’s coat—for the scene where he covers her with it when they’re trapped together. You fit: pale skin, bright eyes. Good, it’s you.”

[Congratulations, player! You have obtained the new identity for the ‘Mingya High 2.0’ scenario: Lead Actor in the film , playing the First Female Lead.]

[Please cooperate with Director Jiang to complete the shoot according to the script.]

What the hell!