The midwinter rain—cold, hard, and fine, carrying the chill of ice shards—pelted against the window with a patter-patter, forming strings of water droplets.
The heat was cranked up inside, and Lin Sangyu rubbed her plump belly—round and full after a hearty meal—with her little paws, rolling contentedly on the two-meter-wide bed.
She glanced up at the clock on the wall—7:55. It was almost time. Lin Sangyu fluttered her wing membranes, swooped off the bed, and flew to the bay window behind the curtains. She wriggled a little further in and hid beneath a throw pillow on the bedroom balcony.
A jet-black executive sedan slowly approached through the rain; its paintwork glowed with a cool sheen in the shifting light, and its tires made a series of faint splashes as they rolled over the damp ground.
A dignified man with a broad, imposing frame, dressed in a custom-tailored overcoat, opened a black umbrella. With measured, unhurried movements, he closed the car door and walked gracefully toward the villa.
A seemingly understated orchid brooch on his left chest radiated layers of brilliance as the car’s headlights cast a casual glint upon it.
The car drove away, leaving only the dim yellow streetlight in front of the villa to cast its final glow through the rain.
The man and the night became one.
At exactly eight o’clock, the bedroom door swung open, followed immediately by the patter of slippers on the floor.
The man entered the room with a crisp, decisive stride and a stern expression. He casually unbuttoned his suit jacket and draped it over the coat rack, revealing a pure white undershirt that outlined his broad shoulders and lean waist.
Lin Sangyu peeked out from under a pillow, clinging to the curtain, her round eyes fixed intently on the man—the true owner of this villa.
She remained in the shadows, while the man stood openly in the room, strolling leisurely under the bright light; the two formed a classic contrast of light and dark.
Lin Sangyu was a sugar glider who had been foraging outside. On the verge of starvation, she took a shot in the dark and forced her way into this seemingly opulent villa.
As soon as she stepped inside, it was just like a mouse falling into a rice bin.
There was a special room in the villa with rows upon rows of neatly arranged compartments on the walls. Each compartment held a transparent Dubia container, and inside were all kinds of insects!
Silkworm pupae, mealworms, stag beetle larvae, woolly rhinoceros beetles, long-horned rhinoceros beetles… you name it, they had it all.
Plus, the fruit bowl in the first-floor living room was restocked with different fruits at set times every day.
It really ensured a well-balanced diet for the flying squirrel!
Lin Sangyu immediately decided to stay here—not only did she get to live in a luxurious villa, but she could also eat as much as she wanted every day. It was absolutely fantastic.
Through her meticulous and careful observation, she had already fully figured out the habits of the villa’s owner.
Only one person lived here: that handsome man. He came home every night at 8:00 p.m. and left again at 8:00 a.m., without fail—like a machine precise to the second.
Lin Sangyu took advantage of this time gap to do as she pleased in the villa during the day. When she was hungry, she’d use her little paws to pry open a container of Dubia roaches and pick out her favorite ones to eat. When she was thirsty, she’d go to the man’s study and drink from his water glass. When she felt sleepy at noon, she’d fly over to the man’s bed and take a sound nap.
She was very careful, leaving virtually no traces. Plus, she had a small appetite—she only ate larvae, not adult insects—so unless someone was specifically looking for them, they’d never be discovered.
And so, the flying squirrel and the man lived in peaceful coexistence for a month of “cohabitation.”
A moment later, the man slipped on his slippers and went into the bathroom. When he reappeared, he was wearing a loose bathrobe, the sash tied loosely around his waist, revealing a glimpse of his honey-colored chest muscles.
Lin Sangyu’s eyes widened even more.
The man raised the thermostat a notch, and as the room temperature gradually rose, Lin Sangyu felt a wave of heat wash over her.
Why are this man’s muscles so massive?
Why do I only have one abdominal muscle when I’m in human form?
Lin Sangyu thought resentfully.
Under Lin Sangyu’s gaze, the man got into bed, propped a pillow upright at the head of the bed, and sat up halfway, leaning against it. He bent his legs and placed a paperback book on his thighs.
The light turned warm, casting a shower of shimmering gold; the man lowered his gaze and read quietly.
From time to time, the sound of his fingertips rustling through the pages drifted through the vast, quiet bedroom.
Earlier that day, Lin Sangyu had sneakily glanced at this book, *Thus Spoke Zarathustra*.
Back then, as she struggled with the book—which towered over her—she’d turned just two pages before her eyelids began to droop uncontrollably. In the end, she’d had to give up in frustration and quietly push the book back to its original spot.
After a long while, the rustling in the bedroom faded away.
Lin Sangyu glanced at the time again: 10:30. Just as she’d expected.
Immediately afterward, the bedroom plunged into darkness—so quiet you could hear a pin drop—and a moment later, the sound of long, steady breathing filled the air.
Lin Sangyu stretched her back, rubbed her hands—which were a bit sore from pulling the curtains for so long—and finally curled back up under the pillow, tucking her little tail between her legs, ready for a good night’s sleep.
Her sleep schedule had been erratic at first. Having lived in the wild for so long, she simply couldn’t manage long stretches of peaceful sleep. Often, she’d barely doze off before being startled awake by a sudden noise from outside, living in constant fear and anxiety.
Since coming to this home, at least her sleep had been guaranteed, and her schedule had gradually aligned with the man’s—going to bed early and waking up early.
*
Early the next morning, the man once again left the house precisely at 8:00 a.m.
Lin Sangyu had been itching to get out for a while; the moment the front door closed, she couldn’t wait any longer and darted out.
She’d already decided on today’s breakfast last night before going to sleep.
Breakfast has to be good—it has to be fried silkworm pupae!
Lin Sangyu suddenly spread her limbs wide; the thin membrane stretching from her wrists to her sides unfurled like a small paraglider. Her fluffy tail swayed slightly, steering her as she glided lightly through the villa’s long hallway and landed steadily on the floor of the insect room.
Slowly, she crawled to the silkworm pupa box and used her pink little hands to gently pry open the secure latch.
With a “click,” the box opened.
On a layer of thin, dry paper, several light-brown silkworm pupae lay quietly in the center, like sleeping bullet tips.
Lin Sangyu licked her lips and let out an excited “squeak.”
She bent her head down, sniffed carefully, then clamped her sharp mouth around a silkworm pupa, holding it firmly between her cheeks—her cheeks immediately puffing out into a round little bulge.
But she wasn’t in a hurry to eat it. Instead, still holding the silkworm pupa in her mouth, she crawled to the edge of the second-floor hallway, unfurled her wing membranes once more, and flew straight toward the kitchen on the first floor.
Ever since she’d spent some time living as a human, she’d developed a taste for fried insects—fresh insects just couldn’t compare to the fried kind.
Lin Sangyu placed the silkworm pupa in the air fryer and pressed the button.
After a while, a faint sizzling sound and waves of savory aroma wafted from the fryer.
Once the food had cooled down a bit, Lin Sangyu simply hopped right into the air fryer and began munching away at the fragrant fried silkworm pupa.
Life as a flying squirrel is truly delightful!
After filling up, Lin Sangyu, with a silkworm pupa shell clenched between her teeth, slowly crawled under the living room sofa and deposited the remains into that pitch-black “mass grave.”
Having disposed of the remains, she leisurely crawled up onto the living room coffee table.
Good heavens! Today’s fruit basket finally contained blueberries—her favorite.
Lin Sangyu wiped away a non-existent tear, then wiped away some very real drool, and devoutly scrambled over to the fruit basket, stuffing one blueberry after another into her mouth.
Unexpectedly, just as she was enjoying her feast, a noise suddenly came from the doorway.
“!!!”
Lin Sangyu’s radar reacted instantly. She immediately flew down from the coffee table, rolled nimbly into the “mass grave” where she’d just dumped remains, curled up, and found herself staring eye-to-eye with the remains.
Judging by the man’s footsteps, his return was purely accidental; he was walking with unusual haste, his overcoat cutting through the air and stirring up gusts of wind—he must have come back to retrieve something.
Jiang Wenzhe hurried back to the house, went straight to his study to grab the document folder, and, without pausing, prepared to head out again.
However, as he passed the kitchen, his footsteps faltered.
He had caught a scent that didn’t belong in this house.
The aroma of burnt meat.