In that fleeting moment, Hao Ren's mind raced with countless thoughts.

He thought of the Chinese virtue of repaying kindness, of revolutionary martyrs who sacrificed for their ideals, of the time in elementary school when he’d stood up to the class bully who tried to steal his chocolate... Okay, maybe he didn’t actually think of all that. But one thing was certain:

This girl, Lily, was unbelievable. She might be some kind of extraordinary being—possibly not even human—but she wasn’t evil. And she had just saved his life. Hao Ren was absolutely sure of it. That thing—the shifting bat-creature—had attacked him first. Every time it struck, its focus had been on him, no doubt about it.

Granted, Hao Ren was just an ordinary guy. But he prided himself on his instincts and his ability to stay calm under pressure. Ever since he was a kid, his reckless antics—like soldering detonators or sawing through light bulbs for fun—had honed his survival instincts. Even in that life-or-death moment, he’d sensed the "bat" had targeted him from the start.

Yet Lily hadn’t seemed to notice. Maybe her thought process was too straightforward, too rigidly fixed on the idea that the creature was after her. That was probably just her being... well, Lily.

But no matter what, this self-proclaimed "werewolf" had saved him. He couldn’t just leave her here. The area was remote, the streets empty, and it was the middle of the night. As an outsider, Lily—a werewolf, no less—would have nowhere to stay. He couldn’t live with himself if he abandoned her.

Of course, there was also the possibility of the bat returning. But as he’d already concluded, it seemed fixated on him. Keeping Lily close might be a safeguard. Meteor Brick Technique was unreliable, but it was still better than a kitchen rolling pin, right?

The thought was a bit disheartening, but in the face of the inexplicable, Hao Ren had to settle for practicality. He knew his limits.

"Let’s go. It’s getting late," he said, rubbing his numb legs as he strode ahead of her. "I’ll whip up some food when we get back. You vegetarian?"

The question slipped out before he could stop himself—his brain still processing her "werewolf" revelation. It was a reflexive query, proof of just how quickly he was adapting.

"I’ll eat anything!" Lily beamed, hoisting her hundred-pound suitcase as she trotted beside him. But after a few steps, she paused. "Wait... you’re not scared? Most people would be terrified right now. Have you dealt with ‘supernatural’ stuff before? Oh, don’t worry—I won’t hurt you, I swear. I’ve watched a lot of movies. Humans always freak out about us..."

Hao Ren’s temples throbbed. The girl’s true nature was shining through again: overly familiar, oblivious, stubborn, and endlessly chatty. He couldn’t address all her questions at once, so he sighed. "Honestly, I’m still reeling. Let’s get home first—I’ll need a smoke to clear my head before we talk."

Thankfully, Lily fell silent after that. The two walked in companionable quiet until they reached the fabled Bai Shi Road. At its end stood an old two-story building, weathered but sturdy. Behind it stretched wasteland, making it a liminal space between civilization and nature—a description Hao Ren loved using to sound edgy and prove he still had a youthful streak.

The surrounding houses were similarly dilapidated, many dark and empty, like haunted shells. As the forgotten southern suburbs grew more desolate, the city’s focus never shifted this way, driving residents to relocate. Hao Ren was one of the few holdouts left at the road’s end.

"Good thing they replaced the streetlights recently," he muttered. "Otherwise, this place would look like a ghost street."

"Huh? Ghost street?" Lily’s ears perked up—literally.

He waved her off, and she turned her attention to their new home. The boxy old building seemed to please her. "Not bad. Quiet, and with few neighbors, no one will recognize me. Living among humans is hard—you’re always worried about being dissected, and there are too many scammers. Fighting them is such a hassle."

As Hao Ren unlocked the door, he glanced at her. "You’re so powerful, yet you’re afraid of being dissected?"

After witnessing her earlier display, he’d assumed werewolves were tougher than humans. But now she was worried about being sliced open for science?

"Mhm," she nodded vigorously. "I’ve seen movies. Humans are really into that. Americans dissect aliens, Chinese dissect and taste them. So scary!"

Hao Ren decided to drop the subject.

Two locked doors (a security gate and a wooden one) later, he finally got inside. Flipping on the living room light, he gestured for Lily to follow. After securing the front door, he gave her a quick tour:

"Living room’s this way. The house was designed by my dad, so the layout’s... unique. The two doors on either side lead to my room and yours. That hallway up front connects to the kitchen and bathroom. Upstairs are four empty rooms—no one’s using them, so don’t worry about it. First, let’s get your luggage settled. Do you have bedding, or should we use what’s here? Everything’s clean, though girls are usually picky about that..."

"Anything’s fine as long as I can sleep!" she chirped, patting her suitcase. "There’s no way all my stuff fits in here."

Hao Ren swallowed the rest of his questions. Yep, definitely not a "normal" girl.

Lily refused help with unpacking—whether out of pride or sheer hunger, he couldn’t tell. She just urged him to cook, reiterating her promise to pay. Her enthusiasm was oddly touching.

In the kitchen, he found instant noodles and some basic ingredients. As he boiled water and hummed a tune, he lit a cigarette to calm his nerves.

...Thankfully, he remembered the gas stove before disaster struck.

Listening to the clatter from Lily’s room as she unpacked, he wondered what kind of bizarre items filled that massive suitcase. As he waited for the noodles, he tried to piece together the day’s events: Failed job hunt in the city.

Met a hyperactive girl in the park.

Accidentally hired her as a tenant.

Nearly died to a bat-vampire-thing on the way home.

In less than ten minutes, his entire worldview had been shattered and rebuilt.

What was that creature? A vampire, maybe? After all, if there was a werewolf in his life now, it only made sense its eternal rival would show up too.

But this werewolf... she didn’t match the legends. No fangs or claws—just... Lily. A bit ditzy, sure, but not terrifying.

Unable to solve the mystery, Hao Ren defaulted to his usual strategy: deal with it after dinner. Lily seemed like the type who’d explain things over a meal. At least he’d have some guidance while reconstructing his reality.

The noodles cooked quickly. As he carried the steaming bowl to the living room, he found Lily already waiting at the table, nose twitching eagerly at the aroma. She looked up with a grin—so eager it reminded him of a puppy awaiting treats.

They sat down, and Lily grabbed her chopsticks before he could stop her. That’s when he remembered:

"Hey, get down here!" he barked toward the stairs.

Under Lily’s confused gaze, a black-and-white blur shot down from upstairs, skidding to a stop at his feet and rubbing against his leg.

It was a cat.

Then came the moment Hao Ren would never understand:

Lily—the battle-hardened werewolf who’d just rewritten his understanding of the universe—screamed and dove behind the sofa.

And not just any scream. She shifted mid-flee, her form twisting into something monstrous.