Chapter 63: Shen Jixing Chooses the Werewolf Camp

Zhou Yili’s voice was indifferent and languid. He spun the silver ring on his finger carelessly, lips curled with a hint of cold amusement. “I’m still in the game. What makes you think you can declare it over?”

Bo Yu’s eyes darkened slightly. The air seemed thick with silent gunpowder. He sensed a hidden meaning in those words—the young man had noticed something unusual between him and A-Xing.

“The winner has already emerged. The process is meaningless,” Bo Yu replied. Shen Jixing was his protégé, molded by his own hand. What others considered insurmountable, he accomplished with ease. Bo Yu clearly didn’t take Zhou Yili seriously, seeing him only as a rash, immature boy. Shen Jixing shouldn’t have spared him a second thought.

“Meaningless? That’s not for you to decide.” Zhou Yili spun the silver ring on his index finger with a languid, almost taunting gaze. “Go on.”

Bo Yu folded his hands over his abdomen, refraining from further participation. He maintained the composed elegance of an aristocrat. “As you wish.”

Sheng Que nudged his friend, “It’s your turn.”

Bo Yu shook his head with a faint, derisive smile.

The next moment, Zhou Yili’s lazy, unhurried voice sounded. “I’ve liked someone for a very long time.”

The room erupted in astonishment.

This impulsive, youthful boy possessed a recklessness unburdened by convention. He could stake everything on a whim, break free of restraint, and reach for the stars.

Mu Si lifted his eyelids. “Not raising the difficulty, just the stakes, I see.”

In that instant, the warmth drained from Bo Yu’s gaze. So, he dared to say it out loud.

Sheng Que, ever the mischief-maker, elbowed his friend. “How long has it been? And now, do you still like them?”

Zhou Yili shot him a glance. “None of your business.”

He couldn’t be bothered to respond. His lazy gaze rested on Shen Jixing.

Shen Jixing sat quietly, his features cool and serene, like ink-wash painting—seemingly unmoved by anything in the world.

Just as his long lashes lifted, about to make a move, Zhou Yili let his hand fall carelessly.

“Forget it, I concede.”

“One finger can’t beat three.” He looked at Shen Jixing. “You win.”

Even if Shen Jixing once liked him, it couldn’t have lasted. At least this way, they preserved what dignity remained.

Bo Yu seemed to see through his thoughts, a cold smile on his lips.

Then Shen Jixing’s calm, clear voice rang out. “Whether you concede or not, the result is the same—I win.”

This time, the game was truly over.

With composure, Shen Jixing stood and walked toward the director’s team to claim the winner’s privilege card.

Zhou Yili only sensed a faint, cool scent of sandalwood drifting past as the other walked by, expression unchanged.

“What... what does he mean by that?” someone voiced Zhou Yili’s inner question.

It was Sheng Que. He turned, puzzled, to Cen Susu. “So, your idol means he also has someone he’s liked for a long time?”

Cen Susu was momentarily stunned. Even her dark, gothic makeup looked a little dazed. “I think so… Wait, I just remembered—he really does!”

She recalled a scene from Shen Jixing’s exclusive cut in the show’s pilot episode.

“Brother Shen really has someone he’s liked for a long time. He thought of them even when solving math problems for fun.”

Under the curious, surprised gazes of the others, Cen Susu solemnly uttered a name: “Euler.”

The great mathematician himself.

...

“Dear player, as the sole winner, your advantage is not only being the first to draw a role card,” a lively female voice announced, revealing the true reward.

“You have the right to choose your faction.”

Two options appeared on the screen before Shen Jixing.

[Villager Faction] [Werewolf Faction]

Long rays of light reflected across his cool, nearly angelic face.

Backstage, the director feverishly shuffled the villager cards, muttering, “Seer, seer—put five seers in Shen Jixing’s ten cards. This episode is sure to be nominated for a Nobel Brainpower Prize.”

The assistant director chuckled. “Giving out your own awards now?”

“You just don’t get it, Old Gong,” the director chided. “Shen Jixing’s IQ is off the charts. He’ll love playing the Seer.”

The assistant director said nothing, but he wasn’t so sure.

A chime sounded from the screen—Shen Jixing had made his choice.

He reached out and, supporting the waist of the person beside him as they nearly staggered, curled his lips. “Did the sky just fall?”

Shen Jixing had chosen—[Werewolf Faction].

“Mistake?” the director glanced up at the assistant, puzzled.

The assistant shook his head. “Don’t be so quick to put labels on someone. Maybe he doesn’t want to be the savior among the good.”

He’s been caged for too long—he wants to break free.

“Didn’t you see?” The assistant gestured at the screen.

The director squinted. “See what?”

On screen, Shen Jixing tapped to draw one of three werewolf cards.

[Wolf with Blade] [Wolf without Blade] [Wolf King of the Night]

Just as Shen Jixing tapped to draw his role—

His raised hand brushed his shirt hem aside, revealing a section of frosty, white waist, lean and taut along his side. There, near his hipbone, was a pure black six-pointed star.

The cards finished shuffling.

Shen Jixing glanced at his final role card, nodded slightly, and—with the same cold, impassive expression—walked away.

The director mused, “He doesn’t look pleased. Could it be ‘Wolf without Blade’?”

“That’s even more difficult,” the assistant director laughed. “If no one finds a blade on him, he’ll have the good guys fooled, calling him ‘Mom’.”

Their immersive werewolf game didn’t involve sitting around a table. Instead, the players would roam the manor at night, each bearing a unique sign of their role.

Wolves carried blades, witches carried potions, hunters had guns, seers had… brains.

“Damn.”

Zhou Yili lazily eyed the three large characters on the screen.

[Seer]

He’d always been lucky in life—born into a happy family, the son of the wealthiest man, his childhood was almost carefree. Lucky people are healed by their childhood: even after his mother’s plane crash, the optimism she instilled was enough for him to comfort himself.

Later, the person he fell for at first sight came to him of their own accord—a love as bold as a home invasion.

That person was exceptional in looks and terrifyingly intelligent, teaching him to be better and smiling as he kissed him, giving him everything.

Zhou Yili didn’t dwell on the pains of life. Now, looking at those three characters on the screen, he felt like destiny’s chosen one.

“This round is in the bag—I’ll lead us to victory.”

He thought, this time, Shen Jixing could just follow him to an easy win.

After all, today Shen Jixing seemed quite obedient.

And if he was being a good star, he deserved to savor victory.

With blue bangs cocked in triumph, Zhou Yili strode out.

The director was silent for a moment, covering his face with a hand. “Is this even watchable anymore?”

He couldn’t deny Zhou Yili was talented—but that was in terms of force, not prophecy. What did being Seer have to do with him?

“Your plan B can finally come into play,” said the assistant director.

The Seer’s passive skill—[Inspection].

Each nightfall, the Seer could use their skill to choose one person to inspect. The chosen person must stop, block all senses, and submit to a search.

Watching the night-vision feed as darkness fell, the director saw Zhou Yili stride straight toward Shen Jixing without hesitation. “Is this… a dating show?”