Witch, Please Open Your Eyes

The night on the island was eerily quiet. For those accustomed to the hustle and bustle of city life, suddenly facing such an island was somewhat unsettling. Especially for Fang Daichuan. His profession demanded his attention 24 hours a day, 365 days a year. When he was busy, there was no difference between night and day. On the rare occasions he had some free time, he would call up friends to drink, sing, or play cards. Socializing and entertainment were part of his daily routine.

Logically, if he suddenly encountered a holiday island without work, Fang Daichuan would definitely sleep in his room for seven days and nights without a second thought. Unfortunately, this island was not a haven for relaxation but a deadly abyss.

Tonight was destined to be a sleepless night.

The conference table in the first-floor hall was once again filled with people.

Li Sinian sat in the corner, legs crossed, head down, playing with his identity magnetic card. The corner of the card bounced back and forth between his hand and the table. Yang Song sat at the head of the table, meticulously filing her nails. Her nails were painted a mango color, now chipped and patchy from her nervous picking. The young couple remained seated together.

Fang Daichuan carried a cardboard box while Ding Zihui distributed clothes and food to those seated. The items seemed plentiful, but in reality, they were quite limited. Fang Daichuan himself received only three bottles of mineral water and two packs of compressed biscuits. The women got slightly more, but it still wasn’t enough to sustain them for seven days and nights.

There were still four or five people who hadn’t come down. Fang Daichuan placed their water in front of their empty seats.

A middle-aged man sitting nearby glanced at the T-shirt he was given, then looked down at his own physique, forcing a smile. “This is clearly inadequate. Don’t you have a larger size?”

The man was clearly a successful individual, dressed in a shirt and slacks, serious and commanding. His face suggested he had been quite handsome in his youth, and his figure was still decently maintained. However, age had caught up with him, and squeezing into a tight, one-size-fits-all T-shirt was a bit of a challenge. Fang Daichuan remembered him. During the day, he had been quite composed, unlike others who were easily startled. He seemed like someone not to be trifled with.

“There are no larger sizes, just one size fits all,” Li Sinian glanced up briefly, looking at the man. “You’ll have to make do.”

The boss, who hadn’t moved much during the day, was still spotless in his white shirt-no bloodstains, not even a trace of sweat. He clearly didn’t need the extra clothes. He glanced around the room, his eyes settling on Yang Song, who was seated at the head of the table. “Miss, what’s your name again?”

Yang Song looked up, her expression indifferent. “Yang Song,” she replied curtly.

“Ah, right. I’m Du Chaosheng,” Boss Du said with a faint smile, his face lighting up with a shrewd glint. “Listen, miss, no matter what, we’re stuck on this island for seven days. You can’t possibly wear the same clothes for the entire week, can you? Since I can’t use this shirt, how about I trade it with you for a bottle of water?”

The young couple, who had been huddled together, exchanged a glance. The boy looked up at Boss Du, and Fang Daichuan, sitting across from him, caught the look in his eyes. It was strange-intense and calculating. Earlier, when they’d discovered the boxes, the boy had been joking around casually, not the type to harbor hostility without reason. Could he have already guessed Boss Du’s identity card based on just those few words? Fang Daichuan’s mind raced with a terrifying possibility, but no matter how he replayed Boss Du’s words, he couldn’t piece it together.

As a woman, Yang Song had been given an extra bottle of water and a pack of crackers. She glanced up at the white T-shirt and let out a cold laugh. “I’m not even sure I’ll survive the full seven days. This deal doesn’t exactly work in my favor.”

Boss Du opened his mouth to respond, but the young couple exchanged another look. The girl turned to him and said, “How about we trade with you instead?” They had pooled their food and water together, giving off an air of solidarity.

So it was just about needing clothes. Fang Daichuan felt a wave of relief. If everyone here was operating on some higher intellectual plane, completely out of his league, this game would be impossible to play.

Boss Du paused for a moment, not pressing further, and pushed the shirt toward them with a smile. “And what should I call you two?”

The boy handed over a bottle of water without looking up, his tone cold. “Du Wei. She’s Chen Hui.”

The atmosphere in the hall grew awkward.

Yang Song’s face darkened inexplicably, and she muttered under her breath, “Why do you need an extra set of clothes for seven days? What are you planning to do that’ll ruin your clothes so quickly?”

Chen Hui’s face flushed red, though it wasn’t clear what she was thinking. She shot Yang Song a look and retorted, “That’s not it! The brother’s suggestion made sense. We’re planning to explore the island, and we might not make it back by the next morning. We just thought it’d be smart to have an extra set of clothes.”

Yang Song smirked. “Sure, sure. Whatever you say.”

Chen Hui opened her mouth to argue further, but Du Wei gently tugged her arm, stopping her.

At the other end of the table sat another middle-aged man, in his fifties, hunched over and unable to sit up straight. He was shorter than Boss Du, but his figure had also lost its shape. He had rushed out in such a hurry that he hadn’t even buttoned his shirt properly. Now, his beer belly-a symbol of his age-rested awkwardly against the edge of the table, making the situation even more uncomfortable.

“I… I can’t fit into this either. Do you think… maybe someone could swap with me?” the man with the beer belly chuckled nervously, wiping his bald head with a handkerchief as he spoke.

No one paid him any attention.

Yang Song snorted with disdain, twisting open a bottle of water and taking a sip. The two couples were engrossed in their own worlds. Chen Hui leaned her head on Du Wei’s shoulder, nibbling on his earlobe and whispering something intimate into his ear.

The man with the beer belly awkwardly set the T-shirt down.

Ding Zihui, perhaps worried that someone might take her share, quickly gathered her belongings and said with a smile, “I’ll take these to my room first. Fang Daichuan, aren’t you going back to sleep?” She seemed a little scared, hoping to persuade Fang Daichuan to go upstairs with her for company.

Fang Daichuan glanced at Li Sinian.

Li Sinian burst out laughing. “She’s asking if you’re going to sleep. Why are you looking at me? Are you planning to sleep with me tonight?”

Fang Daichuan’s face instantly turned red.

Though the speaker meant no harm, the listener took it differently. Ding Zihui’s face also flushed, realizing that her words could have been misinterpreted as an invitation to sleep together. She turned and quickly ran up to the second floor.

Li Sinian sat in the corner, resting his chin on his hand, lost in thought.

Fang Daichuan watched the girl’s retreating figure as she ran upstairs, then plopped down next to Li Sinian, resting his chin on the table.

“The blood up there hasn’t been cleaned yet,” Li Sinian teased, glancing at him.

Fang Daichuan immediately straightened up, his back rigid, his face a mix of disgust and fear.

Li Sinian chuckled. “Just kidding! It didn’t even splatter over here.”

Fang Daichuan shot him an annoyed look.

“So, what is everyone waiting for here?” Fang Daichuan frowned, increasingly confused by the unfolding events.

Li Sinian glanced upstairs and smiled faintly. “Waiting for an ending.”

“???” Fang Daichuan’s face was a clear “what the hell are you talking about?” expression.

As if in response to his confusion, a piercing scream suddenly erupted from upstairs.

It was a girl’s voice. Fang Daichuan leapt from his seat and bounded up the stairs in three quick strides.

At the end of the second-floor hallway, Fang Daichuan collided with Ding Zihui, wrapping his arms around her waist as they crashed into each other. The sister let out a terrified scream, flailing her arms wildly in the air. Seeing Fang Daichuan’s face didn’t bring her any comfort; instead, she struggled desperately, trying to push past him and flee downstairs.

“Calm down!” Fang Daichuan winced as he took a few hits from the sister. He gently held her, trying to soothe her. “Sister, calm down! What’s going on? What are you running from?!”

Ding Zihui stared at him blankly for a couple of seconds, then glanced back at the empty hallway. The large floor-to-ceiling windows were wide open, and the curtains billowed in the wind. The tassels at the corner of the curtains fluttered eerily in the dark corridor. The bottled water and crackers she had been given were scattered across the floor, and her white T-shirt lay crumpled on the ground, resembling a person crouching in the shadows.

The sister shuddered violently, her body gradually going limp. Fang Daichuan, standing close to her, could feel the tension in her muscles slowly easing. He quickly reached out to support her, half-holding, half-carrying her to the corner of the wall.

“Do you… want to go downstairs?” Fang Daichuan asked. “It’s brighter down there, with the lights on.”

Ding Zihui waved her hand, breaking free from his support. She gripped the brass railing of the staircase with one hand and steadied herself with the other, her eyes fixed warily on his face.

Fang Daichuan exhaled and raised both hands in a gesture of surrender. “Don’t be scared, I really don’t mean any harm. What did you see?”

Just as he finished speaking, the sound of footsteps echoed up the stairs. Du Wei and Chen Hui rushed up from downstairs, followed shortly by Yang Song, who probably felt that being downstairs with three unfamiliar men was more dangerous for her. The girls gathered around Ding Zihui, offering her support.

With more people around, Ding Zihui finally began to calm down.

Yang Song looked impatient, but she still handed a bottle of water to Ding Zihui and even twisted the cap off for her. “Can you pull yourself together? What could possibly have scared you so much?”

Ding Zihui’s hands were trembling-something Fang Daichuan hadn’t noticed earlier. Now, as she clutched the water bottle, he saw how unsteady her hands were. She spilled a few drops, which seemed to irritate Yang Song even more.

Her eyes were glazed as she stared down the empty hallway. She took a couple of nervous sips of water, then took a few deep breaths before finally speaking. “Just now, when I came up here, there was someone hiding behind the curtains…” She pointed at the fluttering curtains, her face filled with terror. The memory made her shudder. “I felt something was wrong, and then a needle pricked my arm.”

As she spoke, she turned her arm over, revealing a bright red scratch on the outside of her upper arm.

The hallway fell silent. Everyone’s breathing became audible, and someone’s loud gulp of saliva echoed in the stillness.

Yang Song shivered. “Did you see who it was?”

Ding Zihui shook her head, tears streaming down her face. “No, I was so scared. I pulled my arm back and ran. Am I going to die? Is this it? Who’s the witch? Does anyone have the antidote? Please, someone give me the shot!”

Fang Daichuan’s heart tightened.

Li Sinian’s voice came from downstairs. “Don’t panic. Let me take a look.”

He was followed by Boss Du and the sweaty man with the beer belly, all of them looking tense.

Ding Zihui clung to Li Sinian like a lifeline, extending her arm for him to examine. Li Sinian leaned in, using his fingers to inspect the wound closely.

The scratch was long but shallow, only breaking the outermost layer of skin and oozing tiny beads of blood.

“You’re fine,” Li Sinian said after a careful examination. His skin was cool to the touch, and Ding Zihui involuntarily shivered. “Nothing was injected. You’ll be okay.”

As he spoke, he subtly pressed down on Fang Daichuan’s hand, which had reached into the pocket on the side of his waist.