Little Pink Starfish

The icy, bone-chilling skin pressed against him, making Zhang Qiu shiver. His eyes were drowsy, but his mind remained clear. Soft yet frigid lips trailed along his cheek to his neck, like a hibernating snake. The silent space was filled only with the sound of his own breathing—his companion made not a single noise…

Not human.

The cold, bone-piercing serpent coiled around him, as if about to swallow him into darkness.

In an instant, his gaze locked onto a pair of gleaming, indifferent eyes in the pitch-black darkness.

Zhang Qiu jolted upright in bed, his dazed eyes scanning the familiar surroundings. He let out a small breath of relief.

“That dream again.” He raised a hand to wipe away the cold sweat beading on his forehead. Suddenly, a wave of nausea hit him. Unable to hold it back, he rushed barefoot to the bathroom, dry-heaving over the toilet.

The room’s lights were all on.

Pale-faced, Zhang Qiu grabbed a sour plum and tossed it into his mouth, finally suppressing the churning in his stomach.

Within seconds, his eyelids drooped again. Despite just having a nightmare, he was already sleepy once more.

Drowsiness, nausea, craving sour food.

He had always despised anything sour—what was happening to him?

Something wasn’t right. Rolling the sour plum in his mouth, he wrapped himself in a blanket and lay on the bed, thinking. It seemed to have started over a month ago, not long after he had left that tomb.

—A month ago—

Deep in the Qinling Mountains, a summer resort was under construction when an ancient tomb was accidentally discovered. The excavation machine had broken into the tomb chamber, revealing a stone stele inscribed with archaic script.

The first group to enter included an archaeological team from Shaanxi Museum and his professor. His professor was a renowned expert in oracle bone script and bronze inscriptions, frequently collaborating with the museum. He had brought Zhang Qiu along to gain firsthand experience and apply theoretical knowledge in practice.

The tomb had never been looted. Had it not been for this accidental excavation, it might have remained undisturbed in the Qinling Mountains for eternity. Carefully, the team descended into the tomb. Despite the June heat, a bone-chilling cold enveloped Zhang Qiu the moment he stepped inside. There was no wind, yet he could hear faint rustling at his ears. He followed closely behind his professor, his excitement barely masking his nervousness. He moved cautiously, too tense to utter a word, his eyes scanning the dim surroundings.

This was an emergency excavation. No one knew who the tomb owner was or whether the artifacts inside would suffer irreversible damage due to exposure—like the Terracotta Army.

The tomb was square and spacious, layer upon layer. The outermost wooden structure had a yellowish hue—whether due to lighting or its original color was unclear. The wood looked remarkably sturdy, showing no signs of decay.

“It’s a five-layered coffin chamber,” the professor said, unable to conceal his excitement. “This is a tomb of a vassal king.”

The archaeologist leading the team responded, “In Xunzi’s On Rituals, it says, ‘The emperor’s coffin has ten layers, a vassal king’s five, a minister’s three, and a scholar’s two.’ Judging by the wood color, it looks like cypress—possibly a Yellow Heartwood structure. Not sure which dynasty it belongs to.” The beam of his flashlight landed on the stele. “Professor Fang, look here, there’s an inscription—but the characters—”

The professor stepped forward to examine it, while Zhang Qiu, lacking official qualifications to be there, stayed at the back, blending in as an invisible observer.

“T-This script…” The professor’s voice trembled with excitement. He controlled his emotions before speaking again. “It resembles Shang Dynasty script, yet there are notable differences. Look at these characters—”

Mumbling the inscriptions under his breath, the professor took a few moments to confirm his thoughts. His eyes widened in disbelief. “Gu Mu Kingdom—it’s the Gu Mu Kingdom!”

Zhang Qiu was startled by his professor’s reaction. He had been in university for nearly a semester but had never seen the professor so openly emotional.

Gu Mu Kingdom?

Zhang Qiu was at a loss, but the archaeologists beside him immediately understood, wearing expressions identical to the professor’s.

The team hastened their efforts, eager to uncover the identity of the tomb’s owner, buried for over 3,000 years. The professor’s face was flushed with excitement. Meanwhile, Zhang Qiu’s right eyelid twitched uncontrollably, faster and faster, as they prepared to open the outermost coffin.

“It’s open! It’s open!”

“Ah!”

“Why are there so many skeletons?!”

A collective shriek erupted as the team stumbled backward in fear. The lights flickered. Zhang Qiu was shoved, stumbling two steps back before hitting the wall. His hand pressed against something, and in an instant, the floor beneath him gave way.

Before he could cry out, he plunged into darkness—and lost consciousness. Just before he blacked out, he glimpsed a pair of piercing crimson eyes.

When he woke again, he was lying naked on an enormous jade bed. Oil lamps flickered around him, casting eerie shadows. Goosebumps prickled his skin. Looking down, he saw red marks across his chest and… between his legs—

Recalling his dream, Zhang Qiu’s face alternated between red and pale. Before he could curse out loud, footsteps approached, followed by a voice calling his name. Panicking, he hurriedly threw on a T-shirt and pants.

“Thank goodness we finally found you!” The archaeologists, relieved to see him safe, quickly turned their attention to their surroundings.

Zhang Qiu felt dampness behind him and had a horrible realization. His face darkened, but fortunately, the others were too focused on their discovery to notice.

“My god! The oil lamps here are still burning!”

“Captain, look at this jade bed—”

Zhang Qiu scanned the room but saw no trace of the crimson-eyed man from his dream. Lost in thought, he suddenly felt a weight on his shoulder and flinched—only to find it was his professor. He let out a breath of relief.

Professor Fang looked at him with concern. “Xiao Qiu, are you alright?”

Still disturbed by his dream and the marks on his body, Zhang Qiu hesitated. He, a man, had been taken by another man in a dream—one who might not even be human. It sounded utterly absurd.

He mumbled vaguely, “I’m fine, just cold.” Then he changed the subject. “Professor, how did you find me?”

“We realized you were missing and started searching. That’s when we discovered a mechanism in the corner of the main chamber leading down here,” the professor explained.

Meanwhile, above ground, the excavation of the fifth coffin chamber had revealed 1,800 glowing green skeletons—terrifyingly well-preserved after 3,000 years. The discovery had caused some panic, and fearing toxicity, the team called for reinforcements.

Once order was restored, the professor noticed Zhang Qiu was missing and followed clues to find the secret passage—though five hours had already passed by then.

“Professor Fang, we found something,” the captain called.

The professor motioned for Zhang Qiu to stay close. He followed the group, walking strangely, as if holding his legs together. Feeling embarrassed, he was relieved no one noticed. He overheard the professor saying, “These inscriptions resemble sacrificial texts, but I can’t decipher them.”

Zhang Qiu now saw the nine black pillars around the jade bed, each inscribed with ancient symbols.

“This tomb is bizarre—completely unsettling. The main chamber is full of skeletons, yet below it is this empty chamber—” The captain paused, then turned to Zhang Qiu. “Student, did you notice anything when you fell down here?”

Zhang Qiu hesitated. He had definitely seen those red eyes. The marks on his body were real. That meant… something had been here.

But now, it was gone.

—

Zhang Qiu’s sleep remained restless. He kept dreaming of that night a month ago. When he finally woke, it was past 8 AM.

His mouth tasted bitter—he realized the sour plum pit was still there and spat it out. Brushing his teeth triggered another round of dry heaving.

He arrived at the lab out of breath. Before he could catch his breath, someone pushed open the door and frowned. “Why do you look so pale? Are you feeling unwell?”

“Senior Hua Ting.” Zhang Qiu had no idea how bad he looked. He had been sleeping more than ever, yet he still felt exhausted. “Maybe I ran too fast. Where’s the professor?”

Hua Ting handed him a cup of warm water. “Professor went to the museum. He told me to tell you to rest and take care of yourself before the semester starts.”

Three days ago, school had let out for summer break. Zhang Qiu had planned to stay and study the Qinling tomb, but with his worsening condition, he decided not to push it.

That afternoon, he took a train home.

At the station, he spotted his father.

“Dad!” Zhang Qiu called out excitedly.

His father, however, frowned, his gaze growing darker as he approached. Then, staring directly at Zhang Qiu’s stomach, he said,

“Your belly—”