mtl008 Chapter 228
Chapter 228
The system had
The tortoiseshell’s fur was fluffy, but she seemed thinner than the average stray. Her slightly hoarse meow cut through the now-silent background music, sounding almost mournful in the quiet theater—like a call for something.
Then, Chu Tingwu let out a sound akin to a kitten’s whimper.
The mother cat leaped down.
Around the cat’s neck was a silver tag engraved with "Three-Five-Five." The human stood still as the cat slowly approached. Finally, Chu Tingwu crouched, pressing her forehead gently against the cat’s, the sunset light catching on her lashes.
Then, the sound of chaos grew louder—the thief, cornered, had run back into the alley.
Spotting the two blocking his path, the thief cursed and waved, demanding they move—
The audience expected Chu Tingwu to act, but instead, she shrank back and let out a tiny, kitten-like hiss. Then, a flash of ferocity gleamed in the tortoiseshell’s eyes.
By the time the contestants caught up, the thief was writhing on the ground in pain, while Chu Tingwu picked up the stolen wallets.
The competitors were effusively grateful.
The audience couldn’t help but laugh: "She didn’t do it—she just recruited a cat to fight for her!"
By now, it was clear: the story wasn’t overly complex. It used the "parkour competition" as a way for a human-cat hybrid to integrate into human society, learning from scratch how to be human—
Without entirely abandoning her feline instincts.
She had her cat mother teaching her, paw-by-paw, how to better utilize her athletic gifts. She had a talking crow coaching her on life skills—if it weren’t for the lack of supplies, the crow might’ve even helped prepare a milk bottle.
Amidst this clumsy adaptation, Chu Tingwu made plenty of blunders but also earned praise and awed gazes from fellow parkour athletes. Eventually, she successfully registered for the competition.
Meanwhile, the tour guide trudged out of the police station with a sigh.
He was explaining to the officer, "I just can’t find her anywhere," and the officer reassured him—just as an advertisement truck rolled by, cycling through close-ups of all the contestants. And there, perfectly timed, was Chu Tingwu’s face.
To the tune of a lively jingle, the competition began, and police cars raced toward the event.
As Chu Tingwu stepped onto the starting line, she realized something was off with her shoes.
The hidden subplot surfaced—one of the contestants didn’t want her to win. The crow brought backup shoes, but she didn’t put them on.
Instead, she kicked them off, shedding her jacket too, as if casting away restraints. Her golden eyes burned with determination.
The crow: "Caw?"
For a moment, it seemed like a fleeting illusion—but then the girl muttered a few cat-like curses, turning the competition into a cat café.
By the time the police arrived, Chu Tingwu had already won. The tour guide rushed forward, only to slip—his hand shot out to grab her. She tried to dodge but was blocked by the crowd, tumbling onto the podium.
Her head hit the edge, and long-lost memories began surfacing.
Turns out, she wasn’t actually a cat.
A kitten’s soul had passed through her, leaving behind its essence while briefly suppressing her memories.
Phoenix was the ancestral phoenix spirit awakened by her grief, vowing to care for her in place of the family she’d lost—only to discover, upon meeting her: *Why is my fledgling a cat now?*
Chu Tingwu: "...Didn’t you ever question it?"
Phoenix: "But whether you’re human or cat, you’re still my fledgling."
What’s wrong with being a cat? Cats are adorable!
Better to be a happy cat than a sorrowful human.
Di○ney’s films often aren’t "grand"—they don’t focus on saving the world, becoming heroes, or protecting nations.
They use movies to explore small, endearing dilemmas.
Like *"The struggles of my youth,"* *"I want to pursue my music dreams,"* *"I want to be a cop,"* *"I want to love the world, but I’m struggling."* And now, their protagonist wants to *"become a cat"*—or rather, she already is one.
The message is delivered through the film:
*"From a cat’s perspective, the things that weigh you down are no bigger than a ball of yarn."*
*"When sadness and stress threaten to crush you, give yourself permission to turn into a cat."*
And so, opportunities arise. Miracles happen. Maybe not every hardship in life comes with a miracle—but at the very least, it makes the wait a little easier.
In the film’s final scene, Chu Tingwu stands atop Mount Vinson in Antarctica. From parkour to polar skiing, much time seems to have passed. She reaches up to adjust her goggles, the camera zooming in on her bright eyes—
Just as she begins her descent, those eyes flicker into feline slits.
The end credits open with the sound of howling wind. Though the screen fades to black, the sound of skis gliding lingers before softly fading away.
Chu Tingwu blinks, noticing Little Ye’s gaze fixed on Three-Five-Five’s collar.
There, hanging from it, is a silver tag identical to the one in the movie.
Chu Tingwu smiles: "Want to pet her?"
*So she recognized it!*
Little Ye nods—then reaches out and pats *Chu Tingwu’s* head.
Chu Tingwu: "?"
Wait, that wasn’t an invitation to pet *me*!
Little Ye withdrew her hand, forming an "eight" with her fingers to prop up her chin. "I think cats are pretty cute now," she said.
Chu Tingwu: "Obviously."
The script had actually been discussed for a long time, as Chu Tingwu's life was full of dramatic moments that could easily be adapted into films—each one seemingly more epic than the last. But in the end, they settled on this story: her encounter with the system, her meeting Three-Five-Five, and how she rediscovered pure joy through parkour.
This was enough.
It was a beginning, not an end.
Besides, the system was quite pleased with the decision, declaring:
"Once we buy out Disney, we can make ten more sequels!"
No point in exhausting all the material now—that’d be such a waste!
Chu Tingwu: "=="
Someone save Disney!!