Little Pink Starfish

A three-meter-tall wall made of red bricks stood before him, old and weathered, bearing the marks of time.

This was an ancient martial town, a place known as Qingyang Town.

A small boy stood at its entrance, dressed in a slightly worn blue cloth outfit. His dark skin was unremarkable, and he wasn’t particularly cute, but his pair of bright, intelligent eyes shone with a lively glint.

He looked up at the stone gate, where the three large characters “Qingyang Town” were inscribed in an ancient script, then wiped the sweat from his forehead.

“Finally here,” the boy sighed, stretching his legs. “That was really far. I’m exhausted.”

After a brief rest, he quickly stepped through the town gates. Nearby, a few sweeping women glanced at him before resuming their work.

Children like him came and went every day—some came to play, some hoped to find a martial master to take them as an apprentice, and others simply came to sell small goods to help support their families. They were the most ordinary of country children, nothing worth paying attention to.

The boy ran briskly along the blue-stone paved streets, heading straight to the other side of the town. He didn’t stop until he reached the outskirts, where a dirt road led up a small hillside.

Finally, he let out a breath of relief. “Just like I remembered.”

This boy was none other than Ziche Shubai, the transmigrated author who had found himself in the body of a cannon fodder character.

Qingyang Town was the birthplace of this world’s protagonist, Qiguan Rui. The largest family in town, the Qiguan Clan, was where he had been born and raised.

But don’t misunderstand—Ziche Shubai wasn’t here to find the protagonist.

If this novel had followed his original outline, where the story was about a noble-hearted young man saving the world, then he would have befriended the protagonist from childhood, grown up alongside him as his sworn brother, and in the end, benefited from the protagonist’s fortune. Maybe he wouldn’t have ended up with a harem of beauties, but at least he could have enjoyed a carefree, privileged life.

But that was before he changed the story.

Now, Qiguan Rui’s childhood was filled with suffering. After being raised from hell to heaven, then thrown back down into hell, only to climb to the top again, his personality had been twisted beyond recognition.

And why not just save him?

Unless Ziche Shubai adopted him from a young age and carefully nurtured him, constantly guiding him towards the right path, it would be impossible.

Besides, Ziche Shubai himself lived in Tiandu City, a place rife with political strife and deadly schemes.

Even within his own family, Qiguan Rui had suffered so much as a low-born illegitimate child. If Ziche Shubai had taken him in, what would have happened to him in Tiandu City? He would have suffered even more than he did in his clan.

And if he wanted to take him along even while training in seclusion… Not to mention whether Ziche Shubai himself wanted to do so, his father would never allow an outsider to observe their clan’s martial arts.

So, raising him with care was out of the question. No matter how he thought about it, this path was a dead end.

Besides…

In his original outline, the protagonist had endured great hardship yet still turned out as a noble-hearted young man. In the revised story, he suffered and became a twisted monster. It was clear that the protagonist’s personality had always carried both possibilities. The environment simply determined which side emerged.

If the original protagonist had been a symbol of light, then the revised protagonist was his dark counterpart.

Like Harry Potter and Voldemort—except Voldemort had started murdering people by the age of sixteen.

And in Ziche Shubai’s story? Qiguan Rui had started eating people.

That was terrifying.

As a mere web novelist who had transmigrated into his own work, Ziche Shubai had no intention of getting involved with such a protagonist. He also had no idea what kind of ripple effects his interference might cause.

So he decided to stay far, far away from Qiguan Rui.

His only goal was to seize one of the protagonist’s minor opportunities—a small advantage that would have been a mere bonus for Qiguan Rui but was absolutely vital for himself.

Ziche Shubai still had a lingering sense of attachment to the protagonist. Despite wanting to avoid him, he deliberately chose a fortune that wouldn’t significantly affect the protagonist’s future.

He wasn’t greedy. The rest of the treasures? He would still leave them to his “son.”

After imagining the grand adventures that awaited Qiguan Rui, Ziche Shubai took a deep breath, then continued toward a small forest at the base of the hillside.

Beyond that lay a vast mountain range, and somewhere within those mountains was the treasure he sought.

Five days passed.

Ziche Shubai leaned against a tree, his stomach growling loudly.

He scowled at the small campfire before him, where mushrooms were roasting on a stick. Frustrated, he grabbed one, took a bite—only to immediately spit it out.

“Hot, hot, hot!”

Flailing his hands to cool his burnt tongue, he glared at the mushrooms before slumping back down, utterly dejected.

This was all his fault.

When he had written this story, he hadn’t bothered to include specific details about the location. He had simply described the general setting: “Beyond the town lay a forest, beyond the forest lay a mountain range, and the protagonist, lost and starving, grabbed something at random to eat.”

That was it.

Now, after five days of searching, he still hadn’t found it.

What a disaster.

Back in Tiandu City, he had carefully planned his escape.

As a young master, his movements were closely monitored, but because of his reclusive nature, he had a fair amount of freedom. Even so, sneaking out had been incredibly difficult. Next time, security would only be tighter. If he failed now, there would be no second chance.

That’s why he had gone through all this trouble. He had even crawled through a dog hole to get out!

All for one thing—the Blood-Gathering Ganoderma.

This was the protagonist’s first golden opportunity, a miraculous herb that, when eaten, not only satiated his hunger but also strengthened his body.

Of course, not just anyone could eat it. Qiguan Rui had the dao tian wu qi constitution and the bloodline of an ancient swallowing sky python. His body was already incredibly strong, and after consuming the herb, his meridians widened, his muscles became tougher, and he instantly recovered from his old injuries.

Later, this herb played a crucial role in helping him control his rapidly growing power.

But to Ziche Shubai, it was even more critical.

His mixed-element wu qi constitution had a flaw that wouldn’t show until later in life. The Blood-Gathering Ganoderma was the only thing that could prevent it from becoming fatal.

He had to find it.

After finishing his meal, Ziche Shubai set off again, retracing his steps through the forest.

He was climbing a hill, scanning the landscape when he suddenly heard a commotion.

Startled, he quickly hid behind a tree, cautiously peeking out.

A young boy was running frantically, his unkempt hair covering most of his face.

Behind him, a slightly older, well-dressed boy in silk robes was chasing him, flanked by several muscular young men, all clearly trained in martial arts.

The boy ran swiftly, but as he reached the foot of the hill, he tripped over a rock and fell.

The older boy smirked, picked up another stone, and threw it at him.

The boy barely managed to dodge, the stone landing dangerously close to his leg.

Angered, the silk-robed boy pointed at him and shouted, “Beat him!”