Seven Days and Nights with the Werewolf

Night 1·05

It was downright supernatural. The twelve of them stared at each other, frozen in shock.

“We were talking in the room for about twenty minutes,” Li Sinian carefully laid the body flat and checked for breath, “and dawdled a bit after coming out. So working backwards, the poisoning must have happened between when Ding Zihui went upstairs and when Fang Daichuan and I went into my room.”

No one spoke a word.

A thick fog of suspicion and fear coiled around the long table, squeezing everyone’s heart like a snake. Their gazes, too, slithered about, darting away from one another’s eyes.

Li Sinian stood up, straightened his clothes, and let out a long breath. “Did anyone notice anything odd about him before this?”

Fang Daichuan shook his head. “Not a single thing. Believe me—I’m an actor, and I’m hyper-sensitive to any awkwardness in facial expressions or body language.”

“An actor, huh? Well, this place just got a whole lot more glamorous.” Li Sinian said it offhandedly.

Fang Daichuan froze, his eyes sharpening in an instant.

Ding Zihui kept her head down, sniffling softly, while Chen Hui sat beside her, squeezing her shoulder in comfort. The single mother wrapped an arm around her son’s waist, covering his eyes.

“It was you!” Du Wei pointed abruptly at Du Chaosheng. “It has to be you! You were the last one to go upstairs, right behind him—you killed him!”

Du Chaosheng let out a cold laugh. “You heard what he said. The poisoning happened after Ding Zihui went upstairs, before everyone went back to their rooms. Anyone could have gotten to him then. The people from the second floor had come down, and those of us from the first floor had gone up to drop off our things—it was chaos. What makes you so sure it was me?!”

“In a mess like this, the quiet onlooker might not be a good guy, but the first one to point fingers is definitely a wolf.” The scholarly man pushed up his gold-rimmed glasses, his eyes flicking sideways at Du Chaosheng with an unreadable glint.

The man who’d slammed his fist on the table earlier shouted in outrage. “If you want to clear your own name, fine—but why drag the rest of us from the second floor into this?! We were sound asleep upstairs! First we’re accused of attacking the girl, now of killing this man—just because we weren’t here for the first meeting, you think you can bully us?!”

“Do you even know what role cards the people on the second floor have?” Du Wei rounded on him, yelling. “How can you be so sure there’s no wolf among you, jumping to defend them so eagerly?!”

The man’s eyes flickered. “I never said that!”

Li Sinian crossed his arms, his right index finger brushing his lips as he scanned the room, taking in every reaction.

Chen Hui glanced down at Ding Zihui and sighed. “Stop fighting. It’s the middle of the night—let’s call it a day. Arguing and yelling like this won’t get us anywhere. I doubt anyone else will die tonight. Let’s split up and go upstairs, lock our doors. Ding Zihui’s been through enough tonight, and the old lady and the kid need to sleep.”

“Tell me the truth, Li Sinian.” Fang Daichuan followed him into his room, slamming the door shut behind him and clenching his right fist. “Had you got anything to do with this? At all?”

Li Sinian stared, then held up his hands and turned to face him, smiling helplessly. “Are you serious?”

Li Sinian’s room was on a split level of the second floor, laid out differently from the others—a narrow, elongated space like a medieval tower, with a large bed facing the window that overlooked the rocky coastline outside.

A curio shelf stood by the door, its lower shelves lined with all manner of foreign wines, and atop it rested an ancient sword—one that looked purely ornamental, utterly impractical for use.

Fang Daichuan snatched the sword off the shelf, jabbing its scabbard hard into Li Sinian’s chest. His face was cold and impassive, his voice sharp and fast. “Don’t move. Do it yourself—turn out the pockets of your waistcoat so I can check them.”

Li Sinian raised his hands high, that infuriating, mocking smile still playing on his lips. “Are you kidding me? Use that goldfish brain of yours and think for a second. How could it be me? Do I have a motive? The time? The ability? Don’t go throwing around baseless accusations just because you’re short on brains.”

“You do!” Fang Daichuan jabbed the scabbard harder into his chest, his voice fierce. “You have the ability! You’ve had professional training—your hands are the lightest of anyone here! You frisked that girl all over and she didn’t even notice! Sticking that poison needle into the back of someone’s neck would be child’s play for you!”

He advanced on Li Sinian step by step, pushing him back.

“You had the time! When Ding Zihui was attacked, we all ran upstairs—there were only three of you left in the first-floor hall! All you had to do was fall two steps behind, and you’d have had plenty of chance to strike!”

Li Sinian was forced back against the bed, sitting down hard on the edge.

“And you have the motive! You—you’re a wolf!”

Li Sinian fell silent for a moment, then shrugged and let out a soft laugh. Shaking his head, he gently pushed the scabbard away from his chest. The sword was clearly an antique, its scabbard carved with brass morning glories and thyme, the ancient flowers winding in intricate patterns around the metal, whose tip was worn smooth from years of handling and caressing.

The smile never left Li Sinian’s face. He looked up, raising one eyebrow and tilting his head. “Do you have any proof? Everything you just said—anyone here could’ve done it.”

Fang Daichuan pressed the scabbard firmly against Li Sinian’s shoulder, the cold metal resting just beside his neck, sending a shiver of goosebumps down his spine. His chest heaved with rage, and he shouted, “Then answer me this! What did you mean by ‘this place just got a whole lot more glamorous’?! What connection do you have to this island, to this villa?!”

Li Sinian raised an eyebrow, smiling. “What does that phrase mean? Oh, I get it—you only say it about your own house, not someone else’s, right? Sorry, I’m American. I never was very good with Chinese idioms.”

“Save your lies!” Fang Daichuan sneered. “If you didn’t know I was an actor, then why did you say what you did at the airport?!”

Li Sinian looked like he was about to lose his mind. “What the hell did I say at the airport?!”

“Don’t play dumb! The first thing you said to me!” Fang Daichuan’s hands shook with anger at his continued denial.

Li Sinian’s head throbbed so hard he wanted to bang it against the wall. “Are you the leading lady in some melodrama?! Did you act in too many brainless TV shows?! How the hell am I supposed to remember the first thing I said to you?!”

“You asked me why it was me!” Fang Daichuan yelled, his voice cracking with frustration. “You looked up at me and said, ‘It’s you’! If you’d never seen my shows, if you didn’t know who I was—why would you say that?! I didn’t stumble into this by accident, did I?! This was all a setup from the start, wasn’t it?! You and that cowardly mastermind behind the scenes planned this together! You just wanted to drag in some poor fool who knew nothing—someone you could use, someone to order around! That’s why you said I shouldn’t trust anyone, especially you! And I’m that fool! The i***t who trusted you, who let you use me, with a goldfish for a brain!”

Li Sinian stared at him, stunned into silence by the roar. He looked straight into Fang Daichuan’s eyes, filled with raw hurt and anger—like a dog that’s been tricked over and over, only to be denied its food, barking desperately at its owner in despair. The two of them stared at each other for a full half-minute. Then Li Sinian burst out laughing, loud and uncontrollable, doubling over and clutching his sides.

Fang Daichuan froze, then his anger flared even hotter. He waved the sword wildly in his right hand, shouting curses. “What’s so funny?! Explain yourself! Who the hell are you?! What the hell is your plan?! Why drag me into this?! Are you some foreign spy ring trying to pressure my parents through me?! I’m telling you, you’ll never succeed! My parents are the finest police officers in the republic—they’ll never be blackmailed, never betray state secrets!”

“Hahahahaha!” Li Sinian laughed even harder at that, gasping for breath as he fell back onto the bed, pounding the mattress with his fist, the golden tassels of the pillowcase brushing his cheek. Shaking his head, he fumbled in his pocket with trembling hands, pulled out a role card, and held it out to Fang Daichuan, still laughing hysterically.

Fang Daichuan snatched the card from his hand, his movements vicious, and flipped it open hard in front of his face.

His expression froze, his muscles going rigid. An awkward silence hung in the air.

Li Sinian’s laughter grew even louder. He flopped onto his back, rolling slightly on the bed.

“I thought you had some earth-shattering deduction for me,” Li Sinian wiped the tears of laughter from the corners of his eyes, looking up at Fang Daichuan’s mortified face and sneering. “I spent all that time teaching you about multiple solutions, and you learned absolutely nothing. With an IQ like yours, you must lose every single game of Werewolf Kill—bet you’re always the one leading the vote to lynch the Seer.” He laced his hands behind his head and propped his legs up casually, looking utterly relaxed.

Fang Daichuan stared at him awkwardly, then down at the role card. It was identical to his Witch card—same style, same font, printed on aged yellow parchment, the edges decorated with unidentifiable flowers and animals, a large blank space in the middle, and in the boldest, most prominent spot at the center, two characters embroidered in black thread: **Seer**.

The awkwardness was palpable.

A flush crept up Fang Daichuan’s face, spreading across his cheeks like a blanched crab, his ears burning bright red—his earlobes so red they looked like gemstones about to drip blood.

Wordlessly, he tossed the sword back onto the curio shelf, his eyes darting around the floor, unable to think of a single word to dig himself out of this hole. Li Sinian said nothing either, just lounging on the bed, watching him with amused curiosity. Every time Fang Daichuan summoned the courage to glance at him, their eyes met, and Li Sinian fixed him with that mocking stare, making Fang Daichuan’s cheeks burn even hotter as he quickly looked away.

“You… you should’ve said something earlier!” Fang Daichuan immediately shifted the blame, flinging the role card at Li Sinian’s chest like it was burning him.

Li Sinian caught the card with his right hand, pressing it to his chest before picking it up and pressing a light kiss to its surface. He raised an eyebrow at Fang Daichuan. “You never gave me a chance. Besides, this is Werewolf Kill, buddy—where’s the fun in playing with all your cards on the table, in blowing your own cover?”

Fang Daichuan covered his face with his hand, silently cursing his lack of tactical sense. He’d made a fool of himself in front of everyone—even halfway across the Pacific, to his American grandma’s house. “Get up already!” his muffled voice came from behind his palm.

Li Sinian shook his head firmly. “Nope! You pulled a sword on me, scared the hell out of me. I’m not getting up unless you help me up yourself.”

What could he say to that? Having provoked this handful of a man, Fang Daichuan wished he could go back five minutes and slap himself twice.

But before he could indulge in that regret, he sighed, bent down, and helped Li Sinian to his feet with the utmost deference.

Li Sinian was ungrateful. “What’s with the reluctant act? Are you upset about it?”

“No!” Fang Daichuan ground the word out through his teeth. “I’m the one who upset *you*!”

Li Sinian raised an eyebrow, smiling.

Fang Daichuan finally abandoned all thoughts of using force, dropping heavily onto the bed and refusing to speak.

Li Sinian tore up his identity card, strode to the door in three quick steps, grabbed a bottle of wine from the curio shelf, and smashed it lightly against the wall. Costly white wine spilled out, thick and mellow, coating the glass bottle, while the sheepskin paper scraps on the floor swelled and disintegrated in the liquid, their writing blurring beyond recognition.

“I never thought you’d be so short on brains but so full of wild guesses.” Li Sinian’s amused voice drifted over.

Fang Daichuan buried his head in his hands, like a shy ostrich.

“You must have acted in way too many shows where you tear devils apart with your bare hands, fry them, braise them, huh?” Li Sinian may have been no match for Fang Daichuan in physical strength, but he was unbeatable when it came to verbal sparring, his words sharp and sarcastic. “I think your team has the worst possible image for you. Why bother with this tough guy, boyfriend-material schtick? Go back, smooth out that hair of yours, and switch to a dumb, cute, three-year-old baby persona. Trust me—it’s the only way you’ll ever get famous.”

The corridor outside was deathly quiet. Fang Daichuan wondered if anyone had heard their argument. Probably not—Li Sinian’s room was in the corner, with no shared walls with the others. He’d tested the door earlier; it was thick, lined with steel plate, the kind that was almost soundproof. Li Sinian opened the door a c***k to peek into the corridor, then shut it and locked it firmly.

“So when *did* you see me before?” Fang Daichuan stared at Li Sinian’s back, still baffled. “Why did you say ‘It’s you’?”

Li Sinian turned around, pressed a finger to his lips, and blew him a kiss. He winked, a mischievous grin playing on his lips.

**“It’s a secret.”**