Little Pink Starfish

Zhang Qiu glanced at Pei Qing and blurted out, “Jin Hui Emperor? What are you talking about?”

Pei Qing might have hidden things from them along the way, but those were just personal matters concerning Su Wanting. Besides, he had already explained everything. Zhang Qiu recalled how Pei Qing had fought desperately at the bottom of the cauldron—how could he suddenly not be Pei Qing anymore?

Ever since they reunited in the main burial chamber, Pei Qing had never been alone. If he wasn’t Pei Qing but actually some so-called Jin Hui Emperor, then when had the swap happened?

The thought of some ghostly Jin Hui Emperor silently taking over Pei Qing’s body filled Zhang Qiu with rage. After everything they had just been through, Zhang Qiu had already come to see Pei Qing and Lingdang as friends.

“I don’t actually know who I am,” Pei Qing said, a trace of confusion in his eyes. “When I woke up just now, I suddenly had someone else’s memories in my head. They’re vague… and ancient.”

Zhang Qiu had been ready to lash out, but now he found himself at a loss for words. Pei Qing didn’t sound like he had been possessed by some Jin Hui Emperor.

“H-His Majesty?!” Lingdang stammered in fright, his entire body going stiff.

Pei Qing smiled at Lingdang’s reaction and gently placed the Soul-Suppressing Bead—borrowed from the Prince of Xiapi—against Lingdang’s chest. The boy stood frozen, not daring to move, his small hands clutching at his shirt. The warmth from Pei Qing’s palm was searing, as if it could melt him.

Zhang Qiu, however, couldn’t shake the feeling that Pei Qing was taking advantage of the moment, his hand lingering on Lingdang’s chest for just a bit too long.

“What exactly is going on?” Zhang Qiu finally spoke up. If he didn’t interrupt, Pei Qing’s hand might start wandering further. Just moments ago, he had seemed like a straight-laced, upright soldier—so why was he suddenly giving off such a gay vibe?

Li Shu glanced at Pei Qing and said, “After we got separated in the underground burial chambers, we were trapped in a space where no matter how much we searched, we always ended up back at the starting point. Eventually, we realized we were caught in a massive formation, with Su Wanting herself acting as the catalyst powering it.”

But Su Wanting had already left, so Li Shu and the Prince of Xiapi had been stuck for quite some time before finally finding the exit—which led them straight to this main burial chamber. Behind the sacrificial altar was a Nine-Turn Immortal Lock Formation, and in the center lay the coffin of Jin Hui Emperor.

But the body inside had long decayed, leaving only a pile of bones—just like in the tomb of the Shandong General.

Back in the Shandong General’s tomb, Hua Ting’s remains had been sealed inside the formation. As an ordinary human, he had been condemned to suffer through endless cycles of illness and premature death. If the mastermind behind all this had deliberately orchestrated Hua Ting’s torment to lure out Wang Shengqi and send a message to Li Shu, then…

Was this tomb another “coincidence”?

Or had it also been manipulated by the unseen mastermind?

“The map,” Li Shu reminded Zhang Qiu as he retrieved a wooden box. “We found this inside Jin Hui Emperor’s coffin.”

Right. The map had guided them here. And the wooden box had been buried with the emperor—meaning this was all deliberate. The mastermind had planned for them to find this tomb.

Zhang Qiu was still piecing things together when Li Shu turned to him. “Tell us about Jin Hui Emperor.”

Li Shu and the Prince of Xiapi had only identified the emperor’s remains based on the inscription inside the tomb. But as for historical records, they knew little. Jin Hui Emperor had been an emperor of the Western Jin dynasty—far removed from their own time.

“The most famous thing about this emperor is the phrase ‘Why not eat minced meat?’” Zhang Qiu said.

When it came to history, Zhang Qiu always remembered the most interesting details. The Western Jin period was chaotic, full of power struggles between rival factions—most notably, the War of the Eight Princes.

“…Jin Hui Emperor, Sima Zhong, was actually quite pitiful. He was constantly moved around and kept under house arrest. Eventually, he was brought back to the capital, only to be poisoned to death by the Prince of Donghai, Sima Yue.”

Out of respect for Pei Qing, Zhang Qiu didn’t explicitly mention that Jin Hui Emperor had been mentally challenged. But just the phrase ‘Why not eat minced meat?’ was enough to make the point.

“I understand now,” the Prince of Xiapi said, turning to Pei Qing. “Jin Hui Emperor wasn’t ‘stupid’—he was missing a piece of his soul. A person with an incomplete soul… this formation could never have fully suppressed him.”

“So Pei Qing isn’t an ordinary person,” Li Shu confirmed.

Zhang Qiu thought so too. This tomb was drastically different from the Shandong General’s tomb. That one had been crude and hastily made, which could have been due to the general’s lower status. But Jin Hui Emperor had never held any real power, so why did his tomb have such an elaborate formation and sacrificial chamber?

“Throughout history, those in high positions were more likely to inherit immortal bloodlines,” the Prince of Xiapi said. “Especially the closer we get to ancient times, the stronger the spiritual energy.”

Zhang Qiu immediately thought of his second brother’s phoenix bloodline and looked at Pei Qing.

Pei Qing admitted, “Ever since I woke up, aside from gaining those vague memories, I’ve felt a powerful force inside me. It’s been suppressed within my body, making me extremely uncomfortable.”

“Your immortal bloodline has already awakened. It’s only a matter of time before it fully manifests,” Li Shu said, tightening his arm around Zhang Qiu’s waist. “Let’s head back first.”

“Wait,” the Prince of Xiapi said, walking over to Su Wanting’s corpse. Without hesitation, he slung it over his shoulder and carried it toward the back of the chamber.

Zhang Qiu suddenly remembered what had happened in the Shandong General’s tomb—Boss Jin had been terrified of the formation. With creatures like him, the only way to truly eliminate them was to seal them inside.

The tomb reeked of a mix of rotting flesh and sickly-sweet perfume. Though Zhang Qiu’s sense of smell had dulled from blood loss, the air itself felt heavy with death.

Everywhere, shriveled child-sized corpses lay scattered—blackened and deformed. Each of them had oversized heads on tiny, malnourished limbs. These hundreds of giant jars had been stuffed with countless such bodies, sealed away for centuries.

Even if Zhang Qiu couldn’t smell it, standing in this scene felt like standing in hell itself.

“What the hell is the mastermind behind all this trying to do? This is beyond cruel,” Zhang Qiu gritted his teeth.

After having little jiangshi, he had come to understand the deep love parents had for their children. The thought of what had been done to these infants made his blood boil.

Li Shu patted Zhang Qiu’s back, calming him. “They were gathering something. The cauldron ritual earlier was meant to refine Pei Qing—just like the Phoenix Pearl of Zhang Yushui. As for their ultimate goal…”

Li Shu’s gaze darkened. “We’ll find out soon enough.”

Lingdang was now inside the Soul-Suppressing Bead, which Pei Qing kept close to him. Their group made their way toward the exit.

Although Li Shu’s blood had healed Zhang Qiu’s wound, he had still lost too much blood. His legs weakened, and he almost stumbled.

Li Shu crouched down slightly. “Get on.”

Zhang Qiu didn’t argue. He obediently climbed onto Li Shu’s back, while little jiangshi bounced along beside them, looking particularly energetic.

But the moment Zhang Qiu saw his son running around completely naked, his head started throbbing.

His kid seemed to enjoy being naked at all times, with zero shame.

As they walked through the passageway, they unexpectedly encountered the Liu brothers.

The two brothers were locked in a brawl, fists flying at each other. The moment they spotted Zhang Qiu’s group, they screamed as if they had seen ghosts.

“Ghosts! Ghosts!”

Zhang Qiu instinctively glanced behind him—but there was nothing there.

If it weren’t for Pei Qing and the Prince of Xiapi blocking them, the Liu brothers would have bolted on the spot.

Lingdang emerged from the bead, his complexion still pale but no longer as weak as before. He looked at the Liu brothers and, in a serious tone, commanded:

“His Majesty is present. Kneel and show respect!”

Clearly, Lingdang wasn’t speaking to the Liu brothers.

Zhang Qiu felt chills crawl up his spine. “Lingdang… who are you talking to?”

“The other burial attendants… and some wandering spirits,” Lingdang said softly. “They were going to eat you, but your body carries a very powerful aura that scared them off.”

Lingdang didn’t mention that he had tried to block them but failed—he simply praised Zhang Qiu’s “great power.”

Zhang Qiu, still lying on Li Shu’s back, perked up excitedly. “Lingdang, did you say I have a powerful aura? Does that mean I also have some immortal bloodline?”

Even though immortal bloodlines made him a target for the mastermind, it still sounded incredibly cool—like unlocking a hidden martial arts talent!

Lingdang hesitated and then stole a cautious glance at Li Shu. “I don’t know… but you and this master’s aura feel very similar. Very powerful.”

He quickly added, “No—this master’s aura is even stronger than yours.”

Clearly, he was referring to Li Shu.

Zhang Qiu was confused. His aura was similar to Li Shu’s? But Li Shu was a jiangshi, while he was a normal human—how could they be similar?

Seeing Zhang Qiu’s puzzled expression, the Prince of Xiapi kindly explained, “You’ve been soaked in too much of Li Shu’s essence.”

Zhang Qiu’s brain stalled for a second.

Then it clicked.

His already pale, blood-depleted face nearly turned red with embarrassment.

He instantly realized what “essence” the Prince of Xiapi was referring to!

“WHAT—”

Little jiangshi tilted his head in confusion, his round eyes blinking. “Daddy, what essence?”

Li Shu chuckled softly.

Absolutely mortified, Zhang Qiu bit down on Li Shu’s shoulder and growled, “Don’t laugh!”

Then he quickly brushed off little jiangshi’s question. “It’s nothing! Kids don’t need to ask so many questions!”

Little jiangshi puffed up his cheeks, looking very unhappy. “But Daddy always says I’m too young! It’s so frustrating!”

When will I finally grow up?!

---

Meanwhile, the Liu brothers had regained some clarity.

Xiao Liu seemed to be in better shape—though his eyes were dark and he looked exhausted, his mind appeared sharp. He greeted Zhang Qiu’s group and asked about Baldy and the others.

Baldy merely sneered in response but didn’t say much.

Da Liu, on the other hand, looked much worse. His forehead was dark, and his mind still seemed muddled. He kept mumbling something under his breath.

Li Shu didn’t bother with them. He simply carried Zhang Qiu toward the exit, while little jiangshi hopped along beside him, chattering excitedly to the empty air.

The sight terrified Da Liu, who shuddered violently and hurried to follow behind them, keeping his head down.

Lingdang had returned to the bead.

---

Once they were out of the tomb, they headed straight to the hospital.

Pei Qing had lost a massive amount of blood, and Baldy was half-dead—both of them were barely holding on. The moment they arrived at the hospital, they completely collapsed.

Zhang Qiu was the worst off—he had suffered the most serious injuries.

After running some tests, the doctors were baffled. Based on the amount of blood he had lost, he should have already died. But strangely, his wound size and healing rate didn’t match the extreme blood loss.

Zhang Qiu casually brushed off their concerns.

What was he supposed to say?
“Oh, don’t worry! I survived because my thousand-year-old jiangshi boyfriend fed me his magical blood!”

They ended up staying in the hospital for ten days. Thanks to Li Shu’s blood, Zhang Qiu healed incredibly fast. However, he now had a lingering sensitivity to the cold, which was a natural result of extreme blood loss. It would take time and proper care to fully recover.

Baldy was the first to leave the hospital. Before departing, he stopped by Zhang Qiu’s room to express his gratitude.

“You saved my life. If you ever need anything, just say the word—I won’t refuse.”

He left behind a small note on the bedside table and walked out without another word.

Zhang Qiu picked it up.

It was a phone number and an address—Baldy was from Inner Mongolia.

But Zhang Qiu didn’t think they would have much reason to stay in touch. He had just helped Baldy out in the moment—there was no need for all this formal repayment.

He tore up the note and tossed it into the trash.

---

By the time they were discharged, it was already late August—just before the start of the new school semester.

Zhang Qiu refused to delay any longer and insisted on leaving the hospital.

Li Shu had no choice but to agree, but he strictly controlled Zhang Qiu’s diet.

At first, Zhang Qiu thought it would just be normal iron-rich foods like pig liver. But instead—

Li Shu gave him a full menu of postpartum recovery soups.

That’s right—he was being fed like a new mother.

Zhang Qiu suffered terribly. If he refused to drink the soups, Li Shu had a hundred different ways to force-feed him.

Lately, Zhang Qiu even felt like his chest was swelling up.

“Where does it hurt? Let me check,” Li Shu said, eyes gleaming with a strange intensity.

Zhang Qiu immediately went on high alert. “I’m a patient! Don’t go too far!”

“I just want to check. What are you thinking?” Li Shu asked innocently.

Like hell Zhang Qiu believed that!

“You think I don’t know you by now?! Stop pretending!”

No matter what, he refused to let Li Shu touch him.

“Coward.”

That low, seductive voice made Zhang Qiu’s ears tingle. He hesitated for a moment—only for Li Shu to ruffle his hair and whisper:

“For your health, you should drink one more bowl today.”

F*!**

Zhang Qiu wanted to scream.

And so, when Li Shu brought him another steaming bowl of soup, Zhang Qiu turned to little jiangshi.

“Son, Daddy has something delicious for you!”

Little jiangshi firmly refused. “Big Daddy said kids can’t drink this!”

Zhang Qiu: …

Little jiangshi proudly flashed his fangs. “Daddy, drink it! Then you’ll be as strong as me!”

Zhang Qiu: …

Is my son a sweet, naïve baby or an evil little mastermind?!

Zhang Qiu sighed in defeat and boarded the plane.

Their little family of three was heading to Beijing first. Pei Qing and the Prince of Xiapi had already left—especially the Prince of Xiapi, who had been in a hurry. Once he confirmed that Zhang Qiu was fine, he had rushed back to Beijing overnight.

Little Jiangshi had grown bigger, so this time he didn’t need to be stuffed into Zhang Qiu’s pocket. While they waited for their flight, Zhang Qiu noticed that many young women in the airport were sneaking glances in their direction.

Compared to Li Shu’s striking beauty, little Jiangshi seemed to attract even more attention.

Wearing an adorable yellow duck T-shirt, denim shorts, and tiny leather shoes, he had a head full of soft, natural curls. Normally, he wore a serious expression that made him look mature beyond his years, but the moment he spoke and revealed his tiny tiger fangs, the contrast was too cute to handle. His fair skin had a porcelain-like glow, and his presence alone was enough to melt hearts.

Zhang Qiu overheard some girls whispering behind him.

“I’ve never seen such a uniquely beautiful child before. He’s so well-behaved, so cute, but also kind of aloof. And those little fangs… he looks like a tiny vampire! So cool!”

Zhang Qiu was speechless.

Are girls’ eyes really this sharp these days?!

Meanwhile, the older passengers—uncles, aunts, grandparents—were more focused on his health.

“What a good-looking child! But he looks like he hasn’t been sleeping well. See those dark circles under his eyes? Children need enough sleep to grow properly!”

Hearing this, little Jiangshi’s expression turned serious. He listened carefully, absorbing every piece of advice on how to grow taller—like eating well and getting plenty of rest.

But he was troubled.

Daddy wouldn’t let him drink blood. How was he supposed to grow up properly?

When the plane landed in Beijing, Zhang Qiu felt exhausted. He really missed the days when little Jiangshi was pocket-sized—having a son that was too popular was also a headache.

Li Shu carried little Jiangshi in his arms while Zhang Qiu walked beside them.

The moment they stepped out of the airport, they were suddenly surrounded by a group of excited young women, startling Zhang Qiu.

However, the girls quickly realized they had mistaken them for someone else.

“Oh, sorry! We thought you were Xixi!”

“But wow, this long-haired man is really handsome! And the kid in his arms is so cute—he looks like a celebrity!”

Zhang Qiu’s face darkened.

Ever since getting together with Li Shu, no one had ever called him a “handsome guy” anymore. Back when he was single, he at least had some presence!

Just then, another girl shouted, “Xixi is here!”

The crowd immediately rushed away, leaving them alone. Zhang Qiu heard someone mention “Qi Xi” and thought it must be some celebrity.

But he couldn’t help laughing when he heard the fans excitedly chanting, “Xixi, Xixi, Xixi!”

“This guy’s name sounds so funny!”

Once they exited the airport, the Prince of Xiapi was already waiting for them.

Little Jiangshi wriggled in Li Shu’s arms, so Li Shu put him down. The child immediately ran toward the Prince of Xiapi, calling out, “Second Mom!”

Zhang Qiu saw the Prince of Xiapi’s face twitch, though he still smiled and pinched little Jiangshi’s chubby cheeks.

Little Jiangshi had inherited Zhang Qiu’s love for beautiful things, so he especially liked sticking to the Prince of Xiapi. He loved giving him kisses and clinging to him.

The Prince of Xiapi, being of noble status, had always been strict and reserved, even toward children. At first, he wasn’t used to such affectionate behavior. But over time, he had started to find it… endearing.

Still, his focus now was solely on resurrecting Zhang Yushui. This lifetime, he wouldn’t have the chance to experience fatherhood again. But he had made peace with that—his one and only priority in life was Zhang Yushui.

“Second Sister-in-law, you drove here? When did you even get your driver’s license?” Zhang Qiu asked. He remembered that the Prince of Xiapi used to get car sick even worse than him.

The Prince of Xiapi’s gaze flickered toward the car.

Zhang Qiu took a step closer and immediately heard a soft, clear voice from inside.

“Let me see… It’s okay, let me take a look, alright?”

“N-no, I’m afraid I’ll dirty Your Majesty’s eyes!”

It was Lingdang’s voice, sounding like he was about to cry.

Through the glass, Zhang Qiu could practically feel Pei Qing’s smug satisfaction.

Pei Qing, you shameless bastard! Lingdang is just a kid, and you dare mess with him?!

Zhang Qiu knocked on the window.

Inside, Lingdang’s voice grew even softer, carrying a pitiful tone.

“Your Majesty… The others are waiting outside. I-I’ll let you check later, okay?”

“Alright, alright,” Pei Qing coaxed. “I’m just trying to help you. How will you learn if you don’t try?”

The car window rolled down, and Pei Qing poked his head out, grinning.

“Lingdang is too weak to be out in the sun.”

Zhang Qiu couldn’t even look at Pei Qing anymore.

Before, he had thought of Pei Qing as a straightforward, upright soldier. But now, he only saw a cunning, shameless wolf, just like Li Shu.

They got into the car.

Lingdang sat curled up in the back seat, looking utterly pitiful, his eyes still red as if he had just been bullied.

Zhang Qiu cursed silently. Beast!

He leaned over to comfort Lingdang. “Don’t be scared. If you’re not okay with something, just say so. We’ll all stand up for you.”

“I-I’m fine,” Lingdang said quickly, looking genuinely happy to see Zhang Qiu. “I just don’t want to disappoint His Maj—my brother.”

Zhang Qiu felt even worse for the kid. He was clearly being bullied but still spoke up for Pei Qing.

Just as he was about to scold Pei Qing, Lingdang blushed and whispered,

“I… I never thought I’d get to become a man again. But I don’t know what it’s supposed to feel like, so I keep messing up.”

Zhang Qiu was completely lost.

The Prince of Xiapi explained, “Lingdang was a eunuch. But now that he’s a ghost, theoretically, he should be able to restore his body. However, since he was castrated at a young age, he has no memory of what it’s supposed to be like, so he’s struggling to manifest it properly.”

“So my brother is just helping me!” Lingdang quickly added, afraid of being misunderstood. “It’s my fault—I just can’t get it right!”

Up front, Pei Qing casually said, “No worries. You can study my body for reference.”

Zhang Qiu: …

This was shameless abuse of power! He was blatantly using Lingdang’s inexperience to take advantage of him!

And Lingdang was grateful for it!

Zhang Qiu didn’t even know what to say anymore.

Fine. Whatever. As long as you’re both happy.

---

Pinky says: The gathering of the undead gays.