The Werewolf’s Mystic Lore

chapter 4

I spun around sharply. She was there, smiling softly behind me, and for a fleeting moment, it felt as though the entire starry sky had lost its brilliance.

Once we settled into my little nest, I thought to myself: so this is how easy it is to charm a girl.

“Hmm, all even now, okay?” she said, laughing.

“All even?”

“Yes. You teased me, and I let you starve all day—so it’s balanced.”

I froze for a moment, taken aback. “I… I didn’t do anything, really…”

“I know,” she murmured, cheeks flushing. “But you…”

Her blush was like the first bloom of peach blossoms, and I could almost hear her heart thudding wildly in her chest.

A brief, awkward silence filled the room. I noticed her long lashes quivering with each breath.

Half an hour passed. Clearly, I had to break the quiet.

I rose from the cardboard box—there were no chairs in the tiny room, the only seat being the bed she occupied—and extended my hand. “Wang Wang, it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

She paused, then burst into peals of laughter. “Wang Wang? Haha, your name is Wang Wang?”

“Damn it,” I muttered inwardly. Why did so many people laugh when they heard my name? It was given to me by my godfather, who insisted that since my future wife would be surnamed Wang, I must also bear the surname Wang. My memory had been abysmal since childhood, so he named me Wang Wang, with Wang meaning “forget” in the sense of ‘central memory lost.’

“Wang Wang—‘Wang’ as in kingly aura, and ‘Wang’ as in ‘central memory, never to forget,’” I pronounced deliberately, each word clear and measured.

She was still laughing, but she extended her hand in return.

“Zhao Yan—‘Zhao’ as in the family name, and ‘Yan’ as in a smile as charming as spring,” she replied, her voice carrying a strange, delicate beauty. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“Zhaoyan?” I chuckled softly.

“Damn it!” she exclaimed. “It’s Zhao Yan, not Zhaoyan!”

“Fine, all even again…” I tried to hold back laughter, keeping a serious face.

She blinked at me, then we both bent over in unison, laughing uncontrollably.

“Hey,” she said, amusement still dancing in her eyes, “you look pretty good in a dress—”

Oh no. I had forgotten to change. I turned toward the wardrobe, but she called out, lifting a plastic bag in her hand. “These are yours. They’re filthy,” she laughed.

I awkwardly took the bag, just as I discovered a pressing problem. I stood there dumbly.

“Hey, why haven’t you changed yet?” she asked, curiosity in her tone.

“Um—please, could you, uh… turn your head? I need to…” I chuckled nervously. The room was a mere twenty square meters, no private space. Normally it didn’t matter, but now…

Her cheeks burned crimson as she obeyed.

I changed into my clothes as quickly as possible. Clean, fresh, and faintly fragrant—she had surely washed them herself.

“All done,” I said leisurely, stretching with relief. Truly, next time I would rather end up in a mental hospital than wear a dress again.

She still hadn’t turned around. “Do you like Shu Qi?”

“Yes,” I admitted. Shu Qi had been my dream girl since high school. A large color photo of her adorned my bedside, and every night I prayed to dream of her—but she never came.

“Hmph—what’s so great about Shu Qi?” she muttered, still facing the photograph. Though her back was to me, I could sense her little nose crinkle in irritation.

“She’s wonderful. Her lips are so sensual, and I adore her smile,” I said, pouring water from my desk and offering it to her.

“I’m not thirsty,” she replied, irritation in her voice. “You actually like Shu Qi—how… tasteless of you!”

I laughed. She was just like Xin’er—several times she had hidden Shu Qi’s photo from me. After a long struggle, I finally glued it securely to the wall. I didn’t know what was so great about Shu Qi; I simply liked her.

I set the water on the windowsill and took a seat beside her. “You know, Dayou once said Shu Qi is the most beautiful girl in Taipei.”

“I don’t believe it—” she spun around.

Then, suddenly, the lights went out. My mind raced. Could my telekinesis be so strong? A blackout now would be perfect, and yet…

In the darkness, she sat there. Through the faint light filtering from outside, I could just make out her delicate features. I felt her heartbeat, heard her breath quicken.

I leaned in close, brushing her cheek. She murmured softly and pushed me away. “Don’t…”

When my lips were just ten centimeters from her face, a piercing whistle tore through the night—from outside—followed by the shattering of glass and Xin’er’s scream.

I lunged at her with lightning speed. “Yan’er, don’t move… I’ll handle this.”

—Hunters.

I sped upstairs, kicking the door open. Three men in black were surrounding Xin’er. Thankfully, they wielded only melee weapons. Xin’er had lifted a long lampstand to defend herself against the wall and appeared uninjured.

I surged forward. After the transformation, my speed had multiplied many times over.

One hunter immediately turned to confront me. He quickly realized my velocity was terrifying. Before he could swing his blade, I struck diagonally, shattering his neck. The other two lunged at Xin’er with forks, their speed and precision revealing terrifying skill. I spun, blocking one fork with my arm while simultaneously kicking another into the abdomen of its wielder, sending the steel weapon clanging into the wall.

Pain shot through my right arm. I straightened and coldly fixed my gaze on the last standing hunter. He froze, fork leveled, eyes blazing with fury.

“Brother, let him go…” Xin’er’s voice trembled from behind, still shaken.

“No. He must die!” I knew better than anyone the cruelty of these hunters. Since the age of six, I had evaded their relentless pursuit alongside my godfather. Once they found you, they would not relent.

He crouched, preparing a final strike. I stepped forward calmly.

Suddenly, the hunter who had fallen dashed up in a frenzy, wrapping his arms around my waist and shouting, “Run—!”

I held my ground. The hunter froze, then leapt from the window.

The one who had clung to me collapsed, spent. I gently helped him to the ground. I had no desire to kill; given a reason, I would always spare them.

“Xin’er, we’re leaving now,” I said, turning. My eyes caught Yan’er, frozen and wide-eyed at the doorway…