Countless crows flew out from Yue Shi’s shadow, passing through the window and diving into the night. In an instant, they vanished into the city lights.
Xia Xuanfeng picked up his water glass to take a drink, pretending he hadn't seen anything, but his fingers were trembling slightly.
Previously, it was only a guess that Yue Shi had supernatural powers, but now he had solid proof!
He was thrilled!
Yue Shi observed this world through the eyes of those crows.
In the city, most people were living normal lives, while a few who held scripts were performing.
Those with scripts were recognizable at a glance. Even though there were no cameras or studios around, people with scripts were simply different from normal people!
For example, a normal person would fight back after being beaten or insulted, or call the police after being persecuted. But a lead in a tragic drama would not; they would only weep in secret.
On a commercial street, a young woman crouched by the roadside, crying. Her makeup was ruined, with mascara leaving two black streaks down her face.
A crow landed on a streetlight to look down at her. She was waiting for someone. As the tragic heroine of an urban tragic drama, she had been abandoned by the male lead, framed by the second female lead, and misunderstood by everyone. She clearly could have explained everything, but she chose to say nothing; she was going to stay here and cry until dawn.
Another crow flew over an old residential area. On a balcony, a man stood outside the railing, his toes dangling in the air.
A crowd gathered below, urging him not to jump. He didn't want to jump either, but he had to. Because this was the opening of a suspense drama, and he was the victim; his death would unveil the prelude to the entire story.
This was no fake death, but a genuine suicide by jumping. Refusing to perform meant death, but agreeing to perform still meant death. Receiving such a script was truly a stroke of terrible luck.
More crows flew across the streets.
An angler had been fishing by the river all day. He was waiting for a big fish that would never take the bait. He was a background prop for a heartwarming drama; all he needed to do was sit there and daze off.
A couple was arguing by the river. The boy knelt on the ground, begging for the girl's forgiveness. The girl cried as she slapped him, then turned and ran away. The boy remained kneeling on the spot, motionless. This was the breakup scene of a youth drama.
The crows flew further.
Inside an abandoned factory on the edge of the city, people were running, chasing, and firing guns. This was the set of a police and gangster drama. A young police officer hid behind a rusted machine, his chest bleeding, his fingers tightly gripping his gun.
The partner beside him had already been killed. The young officer's lips were trembling and his eyes were red, but he couldn't cry, because the script required his partner to be sacrificed in this scene.
His sorrow didn't need to be acted; it was entirely genuine.
The crows flew out of the factory's broken windows, gliding over block after block.
Yue Shi saw more scripts and actors.
A middle-aged woman was chopping vegetables in her kitchen when she suddenly burst into tears. Her husband had received a cheating script, and all the cheating plot points would actually happen—he would even end up with an illegitimate child. Her husband, however, seemed quite happy about it.
A boy was playing games in an internet cafe when his teammate suddenly pulled off his headphones and told him his father had jumped off a building. This was the opening of a male-lead power fantasy drama; losing both parents was a standard requirement.
An old man paced the hospital corridor. The light above the operating room was on; his grandson was inside. His cane was trembling slightly. Yue Shi watched for a while but couldn't tell if he was truly worried or just acting worried—perhaps even the man himself couldn't tell the difference.
The crows flew higher, and the city spread out in their vision like a massive, sophisticated stage. Everyone was in their place, doing what they were supposed to do.
Some were laughing, some were crying, some were running, and some were waiting. They were all performing anywhere, anytime.
Receiving the script of a tragic lead was a stroke of absolute misfortune, though tragic leads at least had a chance for their suffering to end in happiness by the end of the plot. However, that chance was slim; most tragic leads only received remorse from others after they died.
Those who received scripts for suspense dramas, war dramas, or restricted films were the ones in real danger.
For instance, that athlete who tore his script earlier; right after graduation, he was assigned a role in a film, enduring humiliation in a locker room.
Of course, romance dramas weren't exactly safe either. Old-school romance dramas were acceptable, but modern romance dramas were becoming increasingly unhinged.
Terminal illnesses, car accidents, amnesia, cheating, coming out, fighting the other woman... these were all too cliché. Womb-veganism was the current big hit.
The exquisite taste of it was enough to easily send someone into a psychiatric hospital for treatment.
...
Yue Shi was looking for the Audience.
The crows passed through the clouds, flying higher until the city became a glowing chessboard, with streets and buildings no longer visible.
Unfortunately, there was nothing. The sky was empty; there was no heavenly palace behind the clouds, no one watching the play, and no one writing the scripts.
The crows flew further, crossing the coastline to another city on another continent, where another group of people was performing in the same way.
The crows flew from the dead of night until dawn, seeing countless people with scripts, countless plots being staged, and countless actors who were numbed and desperate, swept along by the story.
But he simply could not find the so-called Audience.
The streetlights went out as the pale light of dawn appeared on the horizon.
A crow landed on a spire, overlooking the city.
A new day began, and new plots were being staged. Some had just received their scripts, some had just finished their parts, and others were still waiting for their entrance.
Everyone was on this massive stage, performing without a moment's pause.
By the time Yue Shi recalled the crows, the sky outside the window was fully bright.
Xia Xuanfeng sat on the living room sofa with two cups of cold water on the coffee table. He hadn't slept all night, and his voice was hoarse. "What were those crows doing last night?"
"That's adult business; don't meddle, kid," Yue Shi replied dismissively.
Xia Xuanfeng didn't press further, and silence spread between them.
The snow leopard slipped out of the bedroom, jumped onto Yue Shi’s lap, and nudged his hand with its head. He looked down and stroked the snow leopard, his fingers absentmindedly rubbing its ears.
This world was just a room on the Bewitching Beauty Painting Workshop. Yue Shi speculated that the Audience might be the true owners of this 'room,' while everyone else... was just the owners' toys.
Deducing from the content of the bullet screens and the scripts, the thinking patterns of the Audience were incredibly close to Homo sapiens; it was highly likely they were humans.
Every day, all sorts of melodramatic plots were being staged across the world. Correspondingly, many new scripts had to be produced every day. With such a massive volume, the number of Audience members had to be significant.
With so many Audience members, where could they be hiding?
Last night, the crows had focused on observing those who held the scripts of male and female leads. The protagonists certainly received more attention from the Audience, and Yue Shi had intended to follow the trail from their side.
But unfortunately, he hadn't found any clues related to the Audience. It was unknown what was filming the ongoing plots, but as soon as they were finished, they could be found online.
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