Evolution Under the Moonlight

Chapter 1: A Frightening Night Shift

At 11 p.m., Xin Fengchen's fingers tapped mechanically on the keyboard. The faint white glow of the monitor fell on his tired face, and the dark circles under his eyes looked like two lingering shadows. He was the only one left in the office; the fluorescent tubes hummed softly, a sound that seemed unusually harsh in the empty space.

He rubbed his aching temples, picked up the cold coffee on the desk, and took a sip. The bitter liquid slid down his throat, but it did nothing to chase away the drowsiness entrenched deep in his mind. This was the third consecutive week he had worked overtime until midnight, and his insomnia had only grown worse.

Xin Fengchen stood up and wandered to the floor-to-ceiling window. From the 23rd floor, he had a panoramic view of the city's night scenery. Neon lights outlined the contours of the reinforced concrete buildings, and on the viaduct in the distance, the flow of traffic resembled a slowly moving river of light. It should have been a refreshing sight, yet it filled him with an inexplicable sense of oppression. The glass reflected his pale face, and his eyes were bloodshot.

"Again..." he muttered to himself, his voice unusually clear in the silent office.

When he returned to his desk, his gaze accidentally fell on the calendar in the corner. Tomorrow would be the 15th of the lunar month—the night of the full moon. The thought made his heart tighten for no reason, as if something had been gently stirred in the depths of his memory.

He sat down again and forced himself to refocus on the report on the screen. The numbers blurred before his eyes, and his consciousness began to wander uncontrollably. Those strange dreams that had plagued him for a long time resurfaced silently once more.

* * *

In the dream, he always stood in a desolate wilderness. There was no moon or stars in the sky—only an endless, bottomless darkness. A faint whimper drifted in the wind, like some ancient language, or the low growl of a beast. He could feel something watching him from the shadows; that gaze was cold and sticky, clinging to his skin like a physical presence.

The strangest thing was that every time he woke up, he could clearly remember every detail of the dream—he could even sketch the terrain of that wilderness: there was a stretch of dead woods to the east, rolling hills to the west, and a dry riverbed cutting through the middle. These scenes were so vivid, as if they were places he had actually visited.

"Xin Fengchen!"

A voice suddenly exploded in his ear. He jolted awake, realizing he had fallen asleep at his desk without noticing. Sister Li from the Administration Department stood in front of him, frowning at him.

"Why are you sleeping in the office again?" Sister Li's tone carried a hint of reproach, mixed with a touch of concern. "How many times has this happened this month?"

Xin Fengchen sat up straight and rubbed his numb arm. "Sorry, I was just a bit tired..."

"Look at you—your dark circles are almost reaching your chin," Sister Li sighed. "Do you want to go to the hospital? Chronic insomnia is no small matter."

He forced a smile. "It's fine. I think it's just because I've been too busy with work lately."

Sister Li shook her head, saying no more. She just placed a stack of documents on his desk. "These are the materials needed for tomorrow's morning meeting. Director Wang asked you to double-check them."

Watching Sister Li's retreating figure, Xin Fengchen let out a long breath. How could he not want to sleep well? But every time he lay down on the bed, his mind became unusually alert, as if countless voices were whispering in his head. And when he finally fell asleep, those bizarre dreams would always come as scheduled.

He opened the bottom drawer, which was filled with various sleep aids—from melatonin to prescription sleeping pills, enough to stock a small pharmacy. But these medications either had little effect or caused even worse side effects. Once, he had taken an overdose of sleeping pills, only to have an even more realistic and terrifying dream. When he woke up, he was covered in cold sweat and his heart was pounding wildly. That feeling was still fresh in his memory.

Xin Fengchen picked up an unopened box of melatonin, hesitated for a moment, then put it back. He glanced at the time in the bottom right corner of the computer: 23:47. It looked like he would have to pull an all-nighter again tonight.

* * *

At 2 a.m., Xin Fengchen finally finished the last report. He turned off the computer, and the office was instantly plunged into darkness—only the emergency indicator light emitted a faint green glow. He fumbled for his coat and backpack, then walked toward the elevator hall.

The feeling of weightlessness as the elevator descended made him dizzy. In the mirrored wall of the elevator car, his reflection looked extremely haggard. For some reason, he always felt that his reflection was a stranger to him—those eyes were too deep, as if hiding another person's soul.

When he walked out of the office building, the night wind blew against his face, carrying a chill. Xin Fengchen wrapped his coat tighter and looked up at the sky. Dark clouds covered the moon, with only a faint glow seeping out from the edges. For no reason at all, he found himself looking forward to the full moon tomorrow night. This inexplicable anticipation filled him with unease, as if something deep inside him was awakening.

He walked slowly along the sidewalk, his footsteps unusually clear in the quiet night. The streetlights stretched his shadow long—sometimes in front of him, sometimes behind. Occasionally, a taxi would pass by, its headlights briefly illuminating the road ahead before darkness fell again.

As he walked, he suddenly felt a palpitation in his chest. That feeling of being watched—just like in his dreams—had returned. He spun around abruptly, but the street was empty; only the shadows of plane trees swayed in the wind.

"Am I hallucinating from being too tired..." he muttered to himself, quickening his pace.

Just as he turned the corner, the corner of his eye caught a black shadow darting past quickly. Xin Fengchen's heart tightened sharply. He stopped in his tracks, holding his breath and staring intently in that direction. Something seemed to be moving in the darkness, making a faint rustling sound.

He clenched his fists, and cold sweat oozed from his palms. Reason told him it was probably just a stray cat or some other small animal, but his intuition was screaming a warning. That primal fear made his whole body stiff, and even breathing became difficult.

After a few minutes, nothing happened. Xin Fengchen let out a long sigh of relief, mocking himself for being so neurotic. He continued walking forward, but that feeling of being followed lingered like a shadow.

When he was almost at his apartment building, he couldn't help but look back again. This time, he clearly saw a pair of glowing eyes flash past in the darkness. Those were definitely not human eyes—their pupils were vertical, like those of a feline, but larger and brighter, filled with a primitive wildness.

Xin Fengchen almost ran into the apartment building. It wasn't until the security guard looked at him in confusion that he realized how flustered he was. He forced a nod at the security guard, then hurried toward the elevator.

Once he got home, the first thing he did was lock all the doors and windows and draw all the curtains. His heart was still pounding, and that feeling of being spied on wouldn't go away. He poured himself a glass of water, but his hands were shaking so much that water spilled out and soaked his shirt.

After calming down a little, Xin Fengchen walked to the window and carefully lifted a corner of the curtain. The street was empty; only the streetlights shone alone. Everything looked perfectly normal.

"Must be from being too tired..." he tried to convince himself, but that pair of glowing eyes lingered in his mind, refusing to fade.

He took a hot shower, hoping to relax his tense nerves. Amidst the steam, he noticed a strange mark on his left shoulder—it was light red, with an irregular shape, like a birthmark. But he was certain he had never had it before. He touched it with his hand; it didn't hurt or itch, as if it had been there since birth.

It was already past 3 a.m. when he lay down on the bed. Xin Fengchen turned off the desk lamp, closed his eyes, and tried his best to fall asleep. But his mind was unusually alert, as if something was preventing him from drifting off.

Just as he tossed and turned restlessly, moonlight suddenly streamed in through a gap in the curtains. The dark clouds had dispersed without him noticing. The bright moonlight cast a silver band on the floor—tomorrow would be the night of the full moon.

This thought filled Xin Fengchen with an inexplicable sense of unease. He sat up and stared at that streak of moonlight, lost in thought. Somehow, he felt that a certain change was quietly taking place, and all of this seemed to be related to the upcoming full moon night.

Outside the window, the night wind picked up, and the leaves rustled, as if whispering some ancient secret.