Mountains and giant beasts, cabins in the woods

Setia stared intently at the strand of black hair and said, "Werewolves are dark, humanoid creatures covered in hair that appear under the moonlight and are afraid of silver weapons. There are many legends about them in Western countries. Many even believe that werewolves are members of the vampire clan, vampires that have gone out of control and become berserk."

Sumali added, "But all vampire families, including the ruthless vampires, refuse to acknowledge werewolves as their kin. Some high-ranking vampires even hunt werewolves to find out what's going on. I remember clearly that the Grand Duke of Silvermoon Castle repeatedly said at a banquet that there are no werewolves in the world."

Liu Xingmo was bewildered: "So, does it exist or not? It's like Schrödinger's cat. Just give me a straight answer."

"Hmm~" Setia said with a troubled expression, wrapping her golden curly hair around her fingers. "When I was little, I didn't like sleeping in coffins during the day. Instead, I would crawl into the castle cellar to play."

"When you were little? You're the same now, and it's still daytime outside..." Liu Xingmo muttered to himself.

Setia rolled her eyes and continued, "My mom grabbed me, locked me in a coffin, and threatened me, saying, 'Naughty, disobedient children will be caught and eaten by werewolves!' I retorted, 'I'm not afraid of those monsters! If a werewolf dares to come, I'll suck it dry! I hope the werewolf comes quickly, I can't wait!'"

The library was quiet. Sunlight streamed through the stained-glass skylight, casting dappled patterns of color.

"At that moment, my father appeared and sternly reprimanded my mother, telling her not to tell such stories," Setia continued, her voice trembling. "My mother left in anger, and I was very sad. But my father knelt down and stroked my head, saying: 'Werewolves can hear people's thoughts. You can't think about werewolves, or they really will appear. Remember, there are no werewolves in the world.'"

After the heartwarming childhood story was told, a deathly silence fell over the room.

Su Mali's face remained as pale as ever, while Liu San Niang, who had somehow come closer, had lost all color in her face.

Liu Xingmo concluded: "The curator previously warned me that there is no such thing as the Nian beast in the world. I speculate that perhaps werewolves are a type of Nian beast, and these ghostly creatures will respond to our calls and come, so we should just stop thinking about it."

"That's not right!" Liu Sanniang pointed to the corner of her mouth with her index finger and said, "When I was a child, I looked forward to the New Year the most. I couldn't wait for the Nian monster to show itself..."

"Perhaps the fake Nian beast we're hoping for won't attract the real one," Liu Xingmo speculated, then declared, "Alright, let's leave this topic at that. Let's not think about it anymore. We'll be safe once the New Year is over."

"What? You've encountered the Nian beast? Is this tuft of werewolf fur its?" Setia looked around nervously.

"Attention, no noise allowed in the library!" Liu Xingmo put his index finger to his lips. "Let's follow the rules set by our predecessors and stop thinking about these things."

"You better explain yourselves... Fine, if you don't know, you don't know." Setia looked up at the sky and then left.

As darkness fell, the guests in the library gradually left.

Liu Xingmo carried an oil lamp and inspected the bookshelves, putting the borrowed and returned books back in their places.

Sumali helped by pulling a large stack of books in a handcart.

Liu San Niang followed closely, asking, "What should we do next?"

"If you want to go home, you can go first." Liu Xingmo climbed the ladder and pushed an old book onto the top shelf of the bookshelf.

Liu Sanniang chuckled awkwardly, "We're all neighbors, I'll go back with you."

"We're going to spend the night here." Liu Xingmo climbed down the ladder, held out his hand, and said, "Give me that book, 'Traditional Tailoring and Modern Aesthetics.'"

Su Mali handed a beautifully packaged booklet to Liu Xingmo, and at that moment, a third hand reached out.

"What a beautiful book! Let me see it!" Liu Sanniang flipped through the pages, and dazzling pictures flashed by. "Tsk tsk, how were all these drawn?"

"Photography and letterpress printing," Liu Xingmo said coldly, then carried a ladder to another bookshelf. "Give me that book, 'Southern Dishes Everyone Can Make.'"

I took the book from Sumali and placed it on the second shelf, alongside the other cookbooks.

Liu San Niang was still holding the book, looking down and quickly flipping through it: "There are such good books, I never knew before! That deadbeat Lao Ma only knows how to use those tattered pieces of paper that look like scribbles, I don't even want to look at them."

"You're just looking at the photos..." Liu Xingmo pointed to another corner, "There are books over there, with lots of beautiful illustrations."

Liu San Niang turned her head and saw rows of bookshelves disappearing into the shadows, like countless monsters standing in the darkness: "Uh! I'll look at them tomorrow, it's already late today."

Liu Xingmo tidied up the library, then went to the animal pen to retrieve his luggage, and finally arrived at the newspaper office.

The small room was crammed with six desks, ink bottles on the desks weighing down messy papers, and pencils with only a stub rolling on the floor.

Liu Xingmo placed the oil lamp in the middle: "This is where I usually work. Let's spend the night here."

Sumali carefully examined each desk and said indifferently, "Three men and three women, the gender balance here is quite good."

"A brother and sister, a brother and sister, plus myself and another female employee," Liu Xingmo pointed towards the window. "By the way, that desk is mine."

"Really!" Liu San Niang suddenly perked up, walked to Liu Xingmo's desk, and plopped down. "Ah, this is where story writers create their novels..."

"To be precise, it was the place where I was frantically rushing to finish my manuscript. It's nothing special," Liu Xingmo snorted.

"Hehe..." Liu San Niang chuckled softly, then pressed her face close to the table, feeling the familiar scent. "In my eyes, Liu Xingmo, you and the storyteller are two completely different beings."

"Oh? I am who I am, what else can I do?" Liu Xingmo chuckled.

"No! The person who wrote the story is different!" Liu Sanniang slammed her hand on the table and retorted loudly, then leaned her upper body against the old desk. "I can feel that person's heart is as delicate and gentle as spring, as fiery and passionate as summer, as lonely and melancholic as autumn, and as aloof and cold as winter..."

"Pfft! Ahahaha—!" Liu Xingmo clutched his stomach and laughed loudly. "Third Sister, I told you you're uncultured, and now you've even started reciting poetry. But what kind of nonsense is this? Is that me? Come and take a look. I'm a real person with flesh and blood."

"Pah! So vulgar." Liu San Niang scolded coquettishly, staring intently at the young man in the lamplight. Seeing the cleverness mixed with a touch of shrewdness in his eyes, she couldn't help but sigh, "Ah, why are you such a man..."