Little Pink Starfish

Zhang Qiu was struck by the force from behind and stumbled forward. He heard the sound of a knife piercing flesh but hadn’t processed what had happened yet. It wasn’t until the blade was pulled out that the pain hit—intense, searing pain. His hand instinctively reached toward his back, but his arms were bound.

“Miss Su, what should we do with him?”

It was Pingquan’s voice. Zhang Qiu was in too much pain to even think about how Pingquan had freed himself from the ropes.

“Bring that bastard over here,” Su Wanting said. Seeing Zhang Qiu drenched in cold sweat from the pain, she looked delighted. She lifted his chin with her dagger, a thin trickle of blood seeping out. Her eyes gleamed with excitement as she grinned. “Are you still hoping Li Shu will come save you? He’s trapped in the master’s illusion. Once I take care of you—hmph—he’ll be mine.”

Pei Qing broke free from his bindings. The moment Su Wanting saw this, her pupils shrank into pinpricks, and she glared at him with murderous intent. Without hesitation, she plunged the dagger into Pei Qing’s collarbone. “Looks like you’re impatient to be turned into a corpse for my master.” She then turned back to Zhang Qiu, her eyes glinting sinisterly. “Even though you’re a useless piece of trash, I’m in a good mood today. I’ll let you experience my master’s power.”

Zhang Qiu could barely understand what Su Wanting was saying. He had lost too much blood, his face was pale, and cold sweat dripped from his forehead. His vision blurred, doubling everything in sight.

“Bring him over,” Su Wanting ordered. Seeing that Pei Qing was still moving, she twisted the dagger deeper, smiling sweetly. “I told you—anyone who disobeys me must die.”

Pingquan shuddered at Su Wanting’s words, his expression turning even more submissive. He yanked Zhang Qiu forward with force, dragging him along. The sharp pain jolted Zhang Qiu awake for a moment.

Up ahead, Su Wanting shoved Pei Qing forward. Whenever he resisted, she would yank the dagger out and stab it into a different spot. Within moments, Pei Qing was covered in blood.

The translucent figure, which had turned solid earlier, followed behind them, trembling violently. Its movements were stiff, its face full of fear. It was clear that it desperately wanted to escape, but it was being controlled by Su Wanting.

The main burial chamber was vast. Zhang Qiu stumbled forward under Pingquan’s grip. They soon arrived at what looked like a sacrificial altar. Around them, black ceramic jars were arranged in a formation, their mouths narrow but their bodies large. Red symbols were painted on their surfaces, all facing the massive bronze cauldron in the center.

Su Wanting’s eyes, with their eerily small pupils, swept over the trembling figure. The figure’s already pale face turned even whiter, looking as if it would burst into tears. Despite its extreme reluctance and fear, its legs moved on their own, leaping into the cauldron.

Almost simultaneously, Su Wanting flicked her hand, and Pei Qing was tossed into the cauldron as if he weighed nothing at all.

The cauldron was so tall that even with all his strength, Pingquan couldn’t throw Zhang Qiu inside. Su Wanting’s expression darkened. “Useless. Smash open the jar lids.” Then she grabbed Zhang Qiu herself and, with an expression of disgust, easily hurled him into the cauldron.

BANG!

Zhang Qiu crashed down hard, his vision bursting into stars. His heart seemed to stop for a moment. The pain was so overwhelming that he could no longer feel anything—his entire body was numb, ice-cold, and powerless. He couldn’t move a muscle.

The cauldron was enormous. Pei Qing lay in the corner opposite him, looking no better—his entire body was covered in blood, slumped against the cauldron wall. Zhang Qiu couldn’t tell if he was alive or dead.

“D-Daren…” _{[T/N: Respectful address lit. big person.]}

A weak voice came from beneath him. Zhang Qiu’s thoughts were sluggish. It took him a while to realize someone was calling him. He tried to respond, but when he opened his mouth, no sound came out.

The figure crawled out from under him, and Zhang Qiu finally saw who it was—a young boy, around sixteen or seventeen. His round face was chubby, and his voice was clear and bright. When he spoke, two dimples appeared, but his complexion was so pale it looked like a paper doll.

“Th-that woman is going to kill us.”

Zhang Qiu wanted to say isn’t that obvious? but the boy hugged his knees and started sobbing quietly, looking pitiful like a frightened little rabbit. There was no trace of a ghostly presence—he didn’t seem scared at all.

“But… I think I’m already dead.”

Zhang Qiu opened his mouth, but his voice was too weak to be heard. The boy still understood him, though. Sniffling, he stopped crying and shook his head, looking confused.

“I am Lingdang, the eunuch buried with His Majesty. I’ve been wandering here ever since I gained awareness, unable to leave. One day, I overheard people speaking above— it was that woman. She found me and attacked me severely. When I woke up, I was inside your bead, Daren. You saved me.”

So it really was Lingdang from the ghostly maze incident. He had been injured by Su Wanting and attached himself to the Soul-Suppressing Bead. Back then, Zhang Qiu had sensed something was off—the sickly-sweet scent had belonged to Su Wanting. She had already been planning to kill him, and Lingdang had risked himself to protect him, even earlier in the burial chamber.

Zhang Qiu’s mind was surprisingly clear at this moment, detached from his pain, as if his thoughts and body were separate.

He was dying.

He was just an ordinary person. Su Wanting only wanted to kill him. But if this whole corpse-refining ritual was for Pei Qing and Lingdang, that meant Lingdang, as an ancient ghost, had some kind of value. But what about Pei Qing? He was just like Zhang Qiu—why did Su Wanting insist on having him?

No matter how much Zhang Qiu thought about it, he couldn’t understand Su Wanting’s goal.

But he didn’t want to waste energy thinking about it anymore. His mind was consumed by one thing—Li Shu and little jiangshi.

Where was Li Shu now? Was he alright? And little jiangshi—he was still so young. If he was trapped in an illusion, would he be in danger?

Clang! Clang! Clang!

Outside, a crisp noise rang out—it was the sound of the ceramic jar lids being smashed.

Zhang Qiu noticed that with each jar that was broken, Lingdang trembled. Soon, his entire body looked like it had been drenched in water, his form flickering, nearly unable to maintain solidity.

Something inside those jars terrified him.

“I-I’m scared… Daren, I think I’m dying. It hurts so much…” Lingdang’s voice became muddled. He started rambling incoherently. Zhang Qiu’s own head felt dull and heavy, his ears buzzing—he could barely make out what was being said anymore.

The lids of the surrounding jars were all shattered. Inside the jars, there was only pitch darkness, but a foul, putrid stench filled the entire burial chamber.

Pingquan’s face turned ashen. He shrank into a corner, looking nauseous. Su Wanting sneered. “Useless.”

In an instant, her pupils shrank. A dense fragrance surged from her body, mixing with the nauseating stench. The hundreds of jars on the ground began to shake violently, rattling across the floor. The entire burial chamber trembled as the creatures inside the jars scrambled to break free.

Pingquan realized what was inside and collapsed in fear. His legs went soft as he fell to the ground.

A withered, clawed hand, black and skeletal, stretched out from one of the jars. Then another. A bald head emerged, its skull-like form grotesquely prominent, with two deep, hollow eye sockets.

Hundreds of these creatures began crawling out of the jars.

Su Wanting, watching excitedly, laughed. Her fragrance grew even stronger as she pointed to the bronze cauldron.

“Go, my children. Your food is inside.”

A dense mass of small, shriveled bodies emerged from the jars. Some of them could walk, hopping toward the bronze cauldron, while others slithered rapidly across the ground. Their sole focus was the delicacy awaiting them inside.

“Zhang Qiu! Zhang Qiu, don’t fall asleep!”

Zhang Qiu was shaken awake. When he opened his eyes, he saw Pei Qing staring at him. A sense of disappointment filled his heart—he had hoped to see Li Shu one last time before dying.

The air was filled with an eerie rustling sound. It was deafening, like countless things crawling over the floor. Zhang Qiu swallowed dryly, his throat burning in pain. Though the chamber was pitch dark, he could see everything clearly.

Pei Qing gripped a dagger, which he had pulled from his own body. Lingdang, who had been crying just moments ago, now stood behind Pei Qing. His face was pale with fear, but his eyes burned with the desire to survive.

If even Lingdang refused to give up, how could he?

Zhang Qiu forced himself to stay conscious. He licked his cracked lips, but his body was so weak that it wouldn’t obey his commands.

Pei Qing, noticing Zhang Qiu’s attempt to help, shook his head. “We’re too weak right now. We have to fight with everything we’ve got. You and Lingdang—just stay safe.”

“They—they’re here!” Lingdang suddenly cried out, staring at the top of the cauldron.

Zhang Qiu looked up and saw a baby-like head clinging to the edge. Its skin was dark, almost purple, stretched tightly over its tiny skull. Two sunken black eye sockets fixated on them hungrily, its sharp, needle-like teeth bared.

They were food.

The moment Zhang Qiu realized this, the grotesque creature dropped into the cauldron.

Pei Qing lunged forward, stabbing fiercely. But because of his severe blood loss, his movements were sluggish. He missed.

The creature screeched and lunged at Pei Qing, sinking its teeth into his leg, ripping off a chunk of flesh.

Lingdang rushed over, pounding on the creature’s head with his fists. Pei Qing made another attempt, and this time, his dagger pierced straight through the monster’s skull. It convulsed violently before going still.

The three of them exchanged a look. Just as they were about to catch their breath—

Another head appeared on the cauldron’s edge.

And then another.

Zhang Qiu felt his heart plummet.

Scanning the cauldron’s interior, he knew he wouldn’t make it. He was too injured, too weak. He wanted to move and create a barricade with his body to buy time for Pei Qing and Lingdang, but he had no strength left.

Above him, another shadow loomed.

A creature, reeking of rot, plummeted straight toward him.

But just before it reached his face—

A piercing shriek rang out as the creature’s arm was crushed in a vice-like grip.

A cold presence enveloped him. Zhang Qiu felt himself being pulled into a familiar embrace.

That unique body temperature instantly put him at ease.

“Li Shu!”

Li Shu pressed a kiss to Zhang Qiu’s lips. His eyes darkened as they landed on the bloodstains covering Zhang Qiu’s clothes.

His aura turned deadly.

Swiftly, he ripped open Zhang Qiu’s outer robe, revealing the gruesome wound on his lower back. His eyes turned crimson. He sliced open his own palm and let his blood drip onto Zhang Qiu’s injury.

Before their eyes, the wound rapidly closed, the torn flesh knitting back together.

“Daddy!”

A childish voice called out.

Zhang Qiu looked up in shock. A small, soft-bodied boy—around three or four years old—leaped into the cauldron. Zhang Qiu was momentarily stunned.

The child pouted. “Daddy doesn’t recognize me?”

Zhang Qiu was dumbfounded. In less than a day, little jiangshi had grown this much?! I must be hallucinating from blood loss…

Li Shu lightly patted little jiangshi’s head. The child obediently sat beside Zhang Qiu, flashing his tiny fangs. He leaned in and gave Zhang Qiu’s cheek a big, exaggerated kiss.

“Daddy, I’ll protect you! I’m all grown up now!”

Yeah, I can see that… Zhang Qiu was still in shock.

Li Shu glanced at Pei Qing, who had lost consciousness again. Without hesitation, he let his blood drip onto Pei Qing’s lips. His gaze then shifted to Lingdang, who was trembling in fear.

Lingdang flinched.

“He’s a good ghost,” Zhang Qiu quickly said. “He helped us. Don’t kill him.”

Lingdang nodded frantically, too scared to speak.

Li Shu withdrew his gaze. He pressed another kiss to Zhang Qiu’s lips. “Rest now. I’ll take care of everything outside.”

Then he leapt out of the cauldron.

The creatures were still swarming, attempting to crawl inside. Little jiangshi stood his ground, hands on his hips, his tiny legs planted firmly in front of Zhang Qiu.

The moment one of the creatures dared poke its head inside, little jiangshi bared his tiger fangs.

The creatures screamed in terror and scurried away.

Little jiangshi huffed. “Cowards!”

Zhang Qiu leaned weakly against the cauldron wall. His world had turned upside down. Since when did my pocket-sized son turn into a warrior?

Outside, the sounds of battle raged on. Then, after a short while—

A high-pitched scream tore through the air. Su Wanting.

Then, silence.

Li Shu landed back inside the cauldron. He was unharmed. Zhang Qiu let out a sigh of relief.

When they climbed out of the cauldron, the Prince of Xiapi was there, standing over Su Wanting’s lifeless body.

Pingquan lay against the stone wall, a dagger buried in his stomach. His wide, unblinking eyes were filled with regret.

Baldy pulled out the dagger and wiped the blood off. “We’re even now, brother. Let’s not meet in the next life.”

Pei Qing stirred awake. His expression was unreadable as he looked at Lingdang and beckoned. “Help me up.”

Despite being severely weakened, Lingdang obediently stepped forward, offering his tiny shoulders as support. He wobbled under the weight.

Pei Qing frowned. “Did you even eat?”

“N-No…” Lingdang mumbled. “I haven’t eaten in a long time.”

Pei Qing chuckled. “I’ll buy you osmanthus cakes when we get back.”

Lingdang’s eyes widened. “How do you know I like osmanthus cakes?”

Pei Qing didn’t answer. Instead, he turned to Zhang Qiu. “Your Soul-Suppressing Bead—can I borrow it? Lingdang’s spirit is too weak. If we don’t stabilize his soul, he’ll dissipate completely.”

The bead had already lost its power after little jiangshi was born, but Zhang Qiu had kept it on him, forgetting to return it to Second Sister-in-law. Now, as an ordinary human, carrying it might even attract unwanted spirits.

Hearing Pei Qing’s request, Zhang Qiu pulled the bead from his bag. “It belongs to Second Sister-in-law. Ask him.”

The Prince of Xiapi took the bead, gazing at it for a moment with a look of nostalgia. Then he lowered his eyes and handed it to Pei Qing.

“The original owner of this bead wasn’t me. You can borrow it for now.”

He then turned to Pei Qing and said coolly, “Pei Qing, should I call you by your name? Or should I call you Emperor Hui of Jin?”

---

Pinky says: Well here I thought being a royal zombie was a niche, looks like everybody is one these days.