Cat 171: Didi, My Climbing Substitute

Chapter 171: Didi, My Climbing Substitute

Are Director Jiang and Qu Wanqiao ultimately both personalities of Teacher Qu?

Yan Jiyun recalled the two of their performances in this scenario.

Qu Wanqiao encountered a ghost who looked exactly like him and promptly fainted, but the person before him now appeared quite shrewd—could it be that he, too, was possessed? Or perhaps he and Director Jiang had been acting in concert from the start.

Lacking concrete details about the first two tasks, Yan Jiyun surmised that Su Xiran’s jumping incident must have revealed the presence of an avenger, whose retaliation was likely influenced by Teacher Qu. Reasoning from that, the present versions of Director Jiang and Qu Wanqiao might well be personalities controlled by subsidiary and primary personalities.

The secondary personality dictated the development of the script, the progress of filming, with no intention of allowing the primary personality to learn the truth, wishing instead to maintain control and ultimately usurp it.

Suddenly, Yan Jiyun was struck by clarity. Yes—this was a role-playing scenario, and acting was its very premise. Who said Qu Wanqiao couldn’t act for the players’ benefit? The whole thing was its own play within a play.

What a fellow—he’d actually been deceived!

Luckily, while Qu Wanqiao was passed out, Yan had slapped him awake and used the medicine provided by the other party—not a total loss.

Teacher Qu’s secondary personality had always sought to suppress the primary, toying with the emotions of the players. The identities of these two were now decidedly on the table.

Yan Jiyun straightforwardly selected “Confirm as secondary personality.”

After making his choice, Yan received no system penalty notice. It seems his speculation was correct.

[Teacher Qu Secondary Personality: 2/?]

[Is this the primary personality?]

Yan Jiyun chose “No.”

He had confirmed as much, yet still felt several blind spots. The system was sly: it asked him to identify Teacher Qu’s personalities but never revealed how many there actually were.

Yan continued listening to what Director Jiang and Qu Wanqiao might say next.

Although the relationship between the two personalities was clear, the question of which was primary or secondary lingered in his mind.

If Director Jiang was the malevolent one, he would never have helped the black cat, nor prepared it food and water. In Teacher Qu’s nightmare, one class leader had simply hurled cans at people and the cat, utterly indifferent to life or death.

Director Jiang looked back at Mirror Lake, with Qu Wanqiao standing behind him. Just then, Qu Wanqiao suddenly shoved Jiang in the back.

With a splash, Director Jiang was sent plunging into the lake, which had not been cleaned for years.

Why the sudden infighting?

There hadn’t even been any argument between them.

The lake’s depth remained as in the Mingya High School scenario. Director Jiang struggled for a bit before sinking beneath the surface.

Qu Wanqiao clapped his hands toward the calm water. “Don’t blame me—blame yourself for showing up.”

Yan Jiyun: “…”

This was getting intense!

Was there any chance Director Jiang survived in the water?

Yan dared not breathe. Was this Qu Wanqiao really the same one who’d given him medicine?

He genuinely couldn’t distinguish which was the “white” Teacher Qu and which the “black.”

Now, he understood why he had triggered the mainline of searching for Teacher Qu—because you simply couldn’t tell who was the primary and who was the secondary!

Perhaps he could be bolder in his speculation. Maybe, whether derived from the primary or the secondary, all personalities were struggling for control of the body? Otherwise, why would these inner worlds become so chaotic?

This was making the game so much harder!

[Want to Be Human] Livestream Room:

“I’m an idiot. I can’t follow the plot. What does Su Xiran’s death have to do with finding Teacher Qu? It feels so fragmented. Anyone care to explain? I’m terrible at these story-based suspense scenarios—totally lost, and have to sort it all out myself. When the kitten is with the level 5 streamer, at least they explain, but alone the cat says nothing.”

“Don’t tell me you stared at the kitten sleeping for ten hours? The other team’s stream pretty much explained everything in the early tasks.”

“Ahem—yeah, I just watched the kitten sleep; didn’t really follow the plot.”

“Su Xiran’s death only served to reveal Teacher Qu’s secondary personality. During the kitten’s nap, the level 5 streamer identified Su Xiran’s killer. Before sleeping, the kitten found Xiao Tang, but she was later killed by a poison dart from a man in black, so the storyline should have been stuck. But the level 5 streamer, searching for the kitten, returned to the library, found new clues, and triggered main task 5. The man in black didn’t expect anyone to return to the archives, so he confronted the streamer, but was overpowered and exposed.”

“So who was he?”

“I know! The second female lead.”

“Huh? Why her? Why kill Su Xiran?”

“For the sake of the main female lead. But who’d have guessed, killing Su Xiran didn’t get her the lead—she lost to the kitten.”

“If the person in black was the second female lead, she could’ve killed the kitten too—then the main lead would go to her by default. Director Jiang had no more options.”

“How do you know she didn’t try? The kitten was very close to Xiao Tang at the time.”

“The more you think about it, the scarier it is—if the kitten had been just a little closer, she might have been hit.”

The livestream was in a frenzy of discussion. Meanwhile, Yan Jiyun watched as Qu Wanqiao, after making sure Director Jiang would not resurface, curled his lips, looked around to make sure no one was watching, and quietly left.

Yan Jiyun finally understood.

Mingya High School 2.0 was a contest of Teacher Qu’s personalities—they were no longer using incidents to settle scores, but attacking each other directly.

If he located the primary personality, would even the primary risk being killed?

Teacher Qu’s personalities were growing aggressive—why?

Was it because in the last scenario, Teacher Qu’s childhood personality had been healed, strengthening the primary?

Once Qu Wanqiao had gone, Yan Jiyun ran to Mirror Lake to watch for movement.

Five minutes passed—could Director Jiang really have drowned?

If Director Jiang was simply possessed by Teacher Qu’s ghost personality, he wouldn’t die—unless it wasn’t a ghost at all, but that Jiang himself was multicipherous? After all, there’s no rule that only two personalities can inhabit a single body.

Yan Jiyun was startled by his own thoughts. If the primary personality was truly clever, he might have done just that—and might even have predicted an attempt on his life by others.

Entertaining this possibility, Yan squatted by the lakeshore to see if his guess would be borne out.

If submerged for five minutes, could someone re-emerge?

Surely, Director Jiang had chosen to meet Qu Wanqiao by Mirror Lake on purpose, giving him an opportunity for attack. Qu Wanqiao, unaware this was a trap, unwittingly aided Jiang’s plan.

Time ticked by—Qu Wanqiao was already distant.

Just as Yan Jiyun’s patience was wearing thin, ripples suddenly disturbed the surface of the lake.

Jiang, who by rights should have stayed beneath the water for days before surfacing, was already climbing out along the bank.

Looking up, he saw the perplexed black cat crouched by the shore, wiped water from his hair, and laughed. “Little black cat, you weren’t fed in vain. Sorry though, no fish for you from the lake.”

Yan Jiyun dodged the droplets as Jiang shook out his hair, watching him carefully.

Gazing at the sunset, which matched his own mood, Jiang said, “Doesn’t it feel like I’m a little different than before?”

Indeed, Yan Jiyun thought, Jiang was different—his entire mental state had shifted.

Following his gaze to the fiery sunset, Yan wondered—was it Teacher Qu? Only Teacher Qu could affect the weather in this world; it had always been his hallmark.

Yet, just because the sunset was present didn’t mean this was the primary personality.

After standing by the lake a while, Jiang spoke: “Little cat, let’s change clothes, and then bring this world to a close.”

Yan Jiyun hadn’t expected to find Teacher Qu so suddenly.

He attempted to confirm this Teacher Qu personality with the system.

[Player, do you confirm this is Teacher Qu’s personality?]

He answered: Confirm.

[Teacher Qu Personality: 3/?]

[Do you confirm this personality as Teacher Qu’s primary personality?]

Yan didn’t immediately respond.

The system prodded him for an answer.

[Respond within 5 seconds. If incorrect, time will be deducted.]

Yan scrutinized Jiang a moment longer.

Jiang stood and walked a few steps ahead before turning to look at him. “Not coming?”

Yan Jiyun selected “No.”

Jiang was not the primary.

Now Yan Jiyun had a rough portrait of Teacher Qu in mind: smart, patient, gentle—never showing any unfamiliarity with the world; and just now, Jiang spoke of bringing the world to an end. This was Teacher Qu’s inner world; the primary wouldn’t need to bring closure to any personality, but to the world itself. Only the secondary personality needed to seize control by conquering the subconscious.

Therefore, the current Jiang remained the secondary personality.

Yan Jiyun wondered where Jiang would take him for this supposed resolution. Would he finally meet the real Teacher Qu?

He followed Jiang back toward the music building, noting how unfamiliar Jiang seemed with his surroundings—clearly, he was a newly-released personality.

The campus was unnervingly quiet—where had Qi Feng, Gu Wenzhu, and the others gone? Even He Yuanle’s constant chatter was absent.

What was going on?

Was it connected to Jiang’s intention to “resolve” this world?

After changing, Jiang dressed himself meticulously, even slicking back his hair.

He muttered, “This is how I truly am—from now on, I’ll always look like this. Little cat, aren’t I handsome?”

So narcissistic—Yan Jiyun was only more certain he wasn’t the primary. In fact, he was downright oily!

Since this wasn’t the primary, he’d have to continue searching among the rest of the crew.

At last, the oily Jiang took action.

Yan Jiyun crept into hiding again; Jiang paid him no mind, busying himself alone.

Still no sign of Qi Feng or the others. Could they all be resting?

Quite possible. They’d completed two tasks that morning and had yet to rest—it was high time.

With food and drink, the crew wouldn’t go hungry; Yan wouldn’t need to steal meat to feed his “litter box attendant.”

The sun soon set.

Thus far, no outbursts of storm or thunder had occurred in this scenario, indicating that Teacher Qu hadn’t experienced acute sadness or distress. The solution to Su Xiran’s mystery didn’t seem to touch the core; perhaps her death was only tied to the crew?

But that was odd—Su Xiran had also attended this school, as had the second female lead. He remembered her—sweet, with two charming tiger teeth—surely a graduate of this high school as well, or how else could she have known the location of the archives?

Where was the second female lead now?

He realized he’d focused so much on male NPCs that he’d neglected the female ones. Better revert to human form, rejoin his team, and grill Qi Feng for information.

But first, he’d see what the oily Jiang was up to.

With a personality shift, what would Jiang do now?

He didn’t leave the music building, but made his way to shooting group B.

Group B handled scenes with supporting actors—like the fourth male lead, Si Hao, who was pitching his tent nearby.

When the oily Jiang appeared, Si Hao was grumbling to his assistant about the mosquitoes—two big welts on his face.

From the side, Yan Jiyun noticed his nose was askew and nearly laughed. All that cosmetic work, ruined with a punch—now it would have to be redone. What a pity.

Not that Yan felt guilty—Si Hao had been insufferable, spreading rumors about him and Qi Feng.

Jiang called to him, “Si Hao, come with me—I have a scene I want to discuss.”

Hearing the director was giving him more lines, Si Hao eagerly bailed on his assistant and followed Jiang behind an uninhabited classroom block.

Yan Jiyun recalled that behind the classrooms lay the science building, with the art students’ studios on the first floor.

Jiang led Si Hao only a short distance, close enough that Yan could keep track of their movements. He ran up to the science building.

On the first floor, the art room was just as before, even the sculptures untouched. If this scenario was truly an upgrade to Mingya High School, then seeing the art studio unchanged reassured him: Person #2 was likely the real primary.

But who exactly was Teacher Qu #2?

Yan sifted through his mental list of notable NPCs—none seemed to fit.

Had Qu #2 kept such a low profile in this scenario? Understandable, for he’d have to hide well to escape.

Jiang was still pretending to discuss the script with Si Hao.

At this point, Yan Jiyun slipped in through a cracked window into the art teacher’s office, locating the desk once used by Teacher Qu.

It was immaculate—did Teacher Qu visit often?

Could this be his hiding place? Might there be vital clues here?

Previously, he had overheard a recording found by Teacher Qu #2 in an office—what about now?

Just as he reached to rummage through the desk, he heard the distinct clicking of leather shoes.

Jiang and Si Hao had fallen silent, leaving only footsteps that drew nearer.

In the mermaid scenario, that sound always heralded Person #1’s entrance. This time, the weight of the steps was different—perhaps not all leather-shoed men were Person #1.

The visitor paused at the door, as if checking whether anyone had entered.

Yan Jiyun had come through a barely-open window, leaving only faint cat pawprints—unlikely to attract suspicion.

The figure hesitated no longer and pushed open the door.

Evening had fallen; most NPCs rested or prepared for dinner, so few would be wandering about. With dusk deepening, the newcomer presumably felt safe to approach.

Curious—didn’t he fear running into Jiang?

Only a personality related to Teacher Qu would come here. Other than #2, who else would have reason?

Yan Jiyun decided to stay under the desk and watch, determined to see who it was.

He watched polished leather shoes approach, stopping at his own hiding spot, before the man sat down.

Crossing his legs, the man brushed dust off the desk and picked up a student’s drawing to examine. Yan heard him pull a pen from the cup and jot down comments and grades—exactly as Teacher Qu #2 had done at Mingya High.

A blend of Qu #1 and #2.

In the mermaid scenario, #1 and #2 were at odds, even using Yan as a pretext for fighting. The “Innocence” scenario was also triggered by #1—why?

Qu #1 started the “Innocence” arc to eliminate the primary, yet the class leader survived, the plan failed, and #2 merged with #1. They were always the same person; now, Teacher Qu #2 was more complete.

What was he looking for here?

Was some crucial clue hidden in the office?

Yan decided to experiment.

He poked his head out from under the desk to face the man at the chair.

Yan greeted him: “Meow?”

The man froze, looked down, and Yan recognized him: it was the one he suspected—Ci Shen.

He wasn’t surprised. Among the key crew, Ci Shen had always been a candidate; he truly embodied all of Teacher Qu’s traits.

No wonder he had clashed with Jiang in the car—primary and secondary, always at odds. Like having an angel and a devil wrestling in one’s mind, offering good and bad advice, neither easily heeded.

From Jiang’s script, Yan saw that the subconscious world had long been dominated by the secondary, who was now fully awake.

He had found the primary, but was this personality awake or dormant?

After the merging of Qu #1 and #2 at the end of the mermaid and innocence scenarios, his strength must have grown. Since he’d returned here, he must remember the place.

Yan didn’t know if he still remembered him. Ci Shen stared intently, awaiting an answer.

Would this well-behaved little cat fail to stir some recollection?

Like Guoba? Or Wuyun?

Anyway, the names were all pitch-dark—close enough.

After a long stare, Ci Shen finally spoke: “Wuyun Guoba?”

Yan Jiyun: “…”

So he remembered, but had conflated the names.

The system, sensing strong brainwave activity, delivered a prompt.

[Player, do you confirm this is Teacher Qu’s personality?]

Yan Jiyun answered without hesitation: Confirm.

[Teacher Qu Personality: 4/?]

[Do you confirm this personality as Teacher Qu’s primary personality?]

When facing Jiang, he’d still wavered. But confronted with Ci Shen, he had no doubts.

Ci Shen’s gaze and demeanor were unlike any of the others.

Based on prior experience, the final answer ought to emerge at the most critical juncture, but he didn’t need to wait. Upon entering the mermaid and Mingya scenarios, he had already found the primary; the search for Teacher Qu was just a distraction.

Yan Jiyun replied decisively: Confirm, this is the primary personality.

[Congratulations, player, you have successfully located Teacher Qu’s primary personality. Please assist Teacher Qu in finding the other personalities and resolving his inner conflict.]

The primary was found, but his unresolved issue remained—the Mingya High 2.0 scenario was not yet complete.

“Meow.” Yan Jiyun jumped onto the desk before Ci Shen.

Now, having found the primary, he only needed to locate the last scattered personalities to clear the scenario.

Ci Shen offered his hand; Yan placed his paw atop it.

Well done, Teacher Qu.

Night fell swiftly. Yan leapt to the floor.

Now he had to bring Teacher Qu to Ghost Girl No. 1. Only she might know what Teacher Qu’s inner pain was.

When Yan met Ci Shen’s gaze, he saw confusion and suspicion.

Ci Shen studied the cat: “Where do you want to take me?”

Unable to communicate in human speech, Yan turned and left the office, glancing back to signal Ci Shen to follow.

On reaching the ground floor, Group B was already in full swing—crowded and lively, a normal movie crew at first glance.

As for Group A, Director Jiang was nowhere to be seen—the leads even less so.

Ci Shen asked the Group B assistant director, “Where’s Director Jiang?”

B Assistant Director: “Upstairs, filming a scene with Si Hao.”

Jiang was more impatient than anyone—trying to lure the ghost girls out and devour both in one swoop?

Yan Jiyun, the starring cat, led the crew’s producer up the stairs. But, exhausted from little rest and sick with a cold, he stopped before Ci Shen, unwilling to go further.

Ci Shen read the cat’s mind with a single glance. He looked down at his dark suit, sighed, and deftly scooped the black cat into his arms.

Yan Jiyun had successfully summoned his Didi climbing substitute.

A seasoned NPC knows how to provide proper cat transport.