Seven Days and Nights with the Werewolf

Day Two·01

When Fang Daichuan woke, the hands of the grandfather clock in the corner of his room pointed straight down. He stared dazedly at the brass clock base for a while.

The clock was tall, about one point seven meters, with the dial at the very top, forcing shorter individuals to look up. Its style matched the villa’s overall aesthetic—eerie and mysterious. The base featured a roughly etched image. Fang Daichuan tilted his head, studying it. After a long moment, it vaguely resolved into a scene of over a dozen people seated around a long table for a meal. The table formed the central axis of symmetry; the row of figures above had discernible facial features, while the row below were depicted from behind. The base wasn’t large to begin with, and with so many tiny figures carved into it, Fang Daichuan didn’t examine it closely.

He pulled on his clothes, went to the bathroom to wash his face and brush his teeth. He was about to spray some gel into his hair to style it when he remembered he wasn’t in front of cameras anymore. There was no need to fuss with his hair.

Around seven o’clock, everyone gradually gathered in the first-floor hall. Since last night, no one had eaten much. A night of fear and apprehension likely meant no one had slept soundly either. Finally making it to daylight, the survivors felt a complex mix of emotions and sheer exhaustion. On the surface, however, everyone maintained a facade of nonchalance and alertness. Several of the women had even put on makeup.

As Fang Daichuan descended the stairs, the rich aroma of food hit him. His stomach responded with an embarrassingly vigorous growl, and he quickly pressed a hand against it. Honestly, aside from the wine Li Sinian had given him and the two oysters last night, he hadn’t eaten anything. The day had been spent hauling bodies and being on edge. He was now famished.

"Morning!" Li Sinian spotted Fang Daichuan on the stairs and greeted him with a lift of his right eyebrow. In his right hand, he held a white ceramic plate with gilded patterns along the rim. "Come help, breakfast is ready."

Fang Daichuan nodded blankly. "Oh, okay." He hurried down a few steps.

The long table was already half full. From his position halfway down the stairs, the angle allowed him to see the faces of half the people clearly, while the other half presented only the backs of their heads. He paused for a moment before continuing his descent, a faint frown touching his brow.

The bodies had been cleared away by someone. The hall was now clean, tidy, spacious, and bright. Sunlight streamed unabashedly through the spotless windows, and the crystal chandelier emitted a soft glow. The events of last night felt like a distant, surreal dream. Fang Daichuan stood by the table, running his fingers over the back of a chair. Traces of dark red blood still lingered in the grooves of the wood. Rubbing his fingers together, the memory of someone dying right there yesterday suddenly washed over him, leaving him momentarily disoriented.

The atmosphere in the hall suddenly grew still. It seemed everyone else had the same thought, their expressions becoming uneasy as they lowered their heads in silence.

Li Sinian brought over another plate. "Why are you standing there? Go to the kitchen and bring out the dishes."

Fang Daichuan collected himself and headed into the kitchen.

At the kitchen entrance, he ran into the single mother coming out with a dish. Wearing a small apron, she carried a ceramic casserole dish with two handles, a warm yellow color, filled with a stew that smelled delicious. Fang Daichuan couldn’t stand seeing a woman doing heavy work. He promptly took the pot from her hands. "Let me, let me."

Only then did he realize that while she had carried it effortlessly, the handles were scalding hot. The moment he took it, he almost dropped it. He hopped on his toes, suppressing a yelp, and trotted quickly into the hall.

Du Wei, seeing Fang Daichuan’s hurried approach, stood up and pulled out a chair for him. He lent a hand, helping to place the pot in the center of the long table. Behind Fang Daichuan, the mother set another pot of stew at the other end.

Everyone took their seats.

Chen Hui looked worriedly at the stew in the pot. "Didn’t we say food and water were insufficient? How did you manage this?"

Li Sinian placed the last white plate in front of Fang Daichuan and smiled at Liu Hui (Chen Hui). "I went out for a walk early this morning. Behind the villa, there's a gentle slope with a small vegetable garden. I picked these. The villa has automatic flush toilets; the water comes from a storage tank on the fourth floor. I was worried it might not be clean, so Mr. Du, Mr. Liu, and I went to fetch fresh water from the small lake behind the hill. We shouldn’t need to worry about food and water for now."

"Mr. Liu?" Yang Song raised an eyebrow, glancing around. "Which one is Mr. Liu?"

The middle-aged, scholarly-looking man smiled slightly. "That would be me, Liu Xin."

Li Sinian gestured toward the single mother. "This is Ms. Niu Xinyan. As expected of a mother, her cooking skills are excellent."

Niu Xinyan smiled, the corners of her eyes crinkling.

"The surname Niu…" The old lady muttered with a peculiar, somewhat sneering tone. "A woman with the surname 'Ox'… I wonder what her parents were thinking. If my husband had the surname Ox, I’d insist my daughter take my surname. Names like Ox, Horse, Pig, Sheep… no matter how nice the given name, it’s wasted on such a surname."

No one knew how to respond. Fang Daichuan licked his lips and exchanged a glance with Li Sinian.

Niu Xinyan’s face cooled. She set her cup down on its saucer with a soft clink, took a deep breath, but said nothing. Yang Song, however, curled her lip. "Oh? May I ask your esteemed surname, granny? It must be so very elegant."

The old lady pursed her lips. "The humble surname is Song. Can’t say it’s elegant, but at least it’s a human name."

Yang Song slammed her chopsticks down with a c***k.

A heavy silence fell for a moment. Ding Zihui, seated between the old lady and Niu Xinyan (with the child between them), seemed listless. She looked uncomfortably left and right, then turned to the child beside her. "Little one, what’s your name?"

The child, clinging to his mother’s side, answered in a milky voice, "My name is Liu Xiquan. My nickname is Nan Nan."

"I’m Zhao Chu! Can we get on with this or not? Are we done with introductions? Can we eat now?!" The man who loved pounding the table last night spoke impatiently, frowning as he tapped his fork against his ceramic plate with a *clang*.

Fang Daichuan picked up his fork. "Then… let’s have breakfast."

Niu Xinyan’s stew was indeed good. Canned beef stewed with small greens, romaine lettuce, and youmai cabbage, with a few chopped chili peppers added for kick. The bright red canned beef, vibrant green vegetables, and specks of red chili created an appetizing color palette and tasted great.

Li Sinian must have gone oyster hunting again this morning. Each white plate held a portion of oyster meat, blanched in boiling water and drizzled with fresh soy sauce.

It was a pity there was no bread or rice. Fang Daichuan found it strange. The villa was stocked with Chinese seasonings like oil, salt, soy sauce, and vinegar, but no rice, flour, or chopsticks had been provided. Awkwardly, Fang Daichuan speared a piece of oyster meat with his fork, dipped it in soy sauce, and popped it into his mouth.

"This beef is really good," Liu Xin remarked, picking up a piece. The meat, dyed bright red with red yeast rice, was marbled with pale honey-colored tendons. It was tender, fatty, and pleasantly chewy.

The old lady, Mrs. Song, pursed her lips. "It’s all dyed with pigments. Who knows how many additives are in that canned stuff, not to mention preservatives. They’re all carcinogens. Would’ve been better to just stew the vegetables. A lot of effort for little reward."

"If you dislike it, don’t eat it!" Yang Song retorted, chin lifted, her position directly opposite the old woman allowing her to deliver a scathing glare. "How about you cook tomorrow morning instead? Carcinogens? Who knows if we’ll even live to see tomorrow? Cancer is the least of our worries."

The old lady’s face fell. "How dare you speak to me like that! How did your parents raise you? No manners at all!"

Yang Song flung the hot tea from her cup directly into the old woman’s face.

"I’m warning you," Yang Song pointed at the old woman’s shocked face, "watch your words. Don’t bring my parents into this! My dad may have died early, but that’s still better than someone half in the grave, with no guarantee of a decent burial!"

The old woman wiped her face and stood up, her finger trembling as she shrieked, "Outrageous! This is outrageous!"

Seeing things escalate, Fang Daichuan hastily swallowed his mouthful of oyster and stood up to intervene. "Hey, come on now! We’re in the middle of a meal! Everyone, please sit down and talk calmly!"

"Yes, everyone please sit. What’s the point of this? It only creates bad feeling," Ding Zihui also stood up, her voice soft and pleading.

Boss Du shoved a large piece of meat into his mouth, wiped his lips with the napkin from the table corner, and sneered coldly. "Bad feeling? What ‘feeling’ is left in this house? Aren’t there several wolves hiding among us? It’s kill or be killed. ‘Feeling’ my ass."

"Can we just eat in peace?!" Zhao Chu rolled his eyes and muttered under his breath.

"Who’s stopping you from eating?!" Yang Song turned and snapped at Zhao Chu. "Was it me? Someone worked hard to make this meal, and she has the nerve to call it carcinogenic and ‘a lot of effort for little reward’! Who wants to ‘reward’ her?!"

Fang Daichuan was sweating with anxiety. "Alright, alright! Can everyone just say a little less?!"

He turned to look at Li Sinian, hoping he would also step in to mediate. Instead, he saw Li Sinian leisurely putting food into his mouth, not uttering a word or participating at all. Li Sinian swept his gaze across both sides of the long table, swallowed his food, and even had the composure to pick up his teacup and take a sip.

*Dong! Dong! Dong! Dong! Dong! Dong! Dong! Dong!*

A tremendous metallic clanging suddenly erupted from the second floor. This was more effective than any mediation. Everyone fell silent, looking at each other before lifting their eyes toward the second floor.

"Sounds like the bedroom grandfather clock," Li Sinian murmured, frowning. "Eight o’clock."

Almost as soon as he spoke, the upright machine at one end of the hall activated automatically. The screen glowed with a soft blue light. The familiar electronic voice emanated from the corner speakers—a sound that had already instilled a conditioned reflex of terror in everyone’s hearts, causing a collective shudder.

Fang Daichuan clenched his fists.

"Congratulations to all players for surviving to the second day. Please proceed in order to scan your fingerprints and identity cards. The Villagers’ Phase begins now."

The inorganic, electric voice carried a hint of dangerous amusement.