Little Pink Starfish

“Siqun’er, what does this line mean?” Yuan Yuanyuan crouched beside the doorway, notebook in hand, asking the boy sitting there eating.

Siqun was munching on a roasted sweet potato, blowing on it as he ate. He squatted at the door, looking up at Yuan Yuanyuan, his face flushed red from the heat of the sweet potato.

She held the notebook, squatting down next to him, fearing he might not understand the simplified characters she had written. So she even repeated the line in standard Mandarin, enunciating each word clearly.

Li Zi Jie had told her she could ask her brother if there was anything she didn’t understand. Seeing that he was free at the moment, Yuan Yuanyuan decided to go for it, although she was a bit nervous—afraid she might scare him off mid-question. After all, they weren’t exactly close.

Luckily, Siqun didn’t run this time.

He paused, holding his sweet potato, thinking for a second, then mumbled softly, “It means… when a demon uses transformation spells, they need to be careful not to trigger conditions that would reveal their true form… It’s different for every demon.”

“Every demon has different triggers?” Yuan Yuanyuan repeated, noting down his explanation. With this clarification, the examples that followed made more sense.

One of the examples was about how snakes would instinctively reveal their form after drinking realgar wine. The first time she read it, she was confused, thinking it had suddenly turned into a folk tale or something.

She marked that section in her notebook, her eyes sore from reading. Taking a break, she walked over to grab herself a sweet potato too.

It was fresh out of the oven—warm in her hands and straight to the heart. The entire kitchen smelled of sweet roasted potato. After eating one, her cheeks were rosy, and she let out a satisfied burp.

The weather was getting cooler. Even the dishwater had started to feel chilly. At times like this, a roasted sweet potato was just pure happiness.

On her way home, the falling leaves around her made her feel pretty good. She stopped to buy a waterproof cover downstairs, but just as she was leaving, she bumped into someone she’d been trying to avoid.

Yuan Yuanyuan immediately turned to flee, but Xiao Ying caught up to her.

She had no choice but to go back upstairs with Xiao Ying.

At the door, Yuan Yuanyuan pulled out her keys, only to find Xiao Ying still watching her with sparkly eyes. Finally, she had to ask, “Why are you still here? Aren’t you going home?”

“Yuanyuan-jie…” Xiao Ying asked quietly, “Are you… really strong?”

“…Strong?” Yuan Yuanyuan replied with a blank face.

“Yeah, like… what kind of character are you? Inuyasha? Sesshomaru? Rikuo Nura?”

Yuan Yuanyuan stared at her persistent questioning and silently recalled something. “…You know that yokai called ‘Natto Boy’ from Japanese folklore?”

“…Yeah.”

“And the one called ‘Broom God’ from Onmyoji?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Mm.” Yuan Yuanyuan nodded, turned around, walked into her apartment, and shut the door behind her.

She stared at her empty apartment and let out a long sigh. Hopefully, that was the end of it.

So that’s how she managed to shake Xiao Ying off.

She had thought she’d have to come up with some convoluted excuse to get through it. Who knew she’d end up blurting out a lie that didn’t even sound like a lie.

What she said was half true, half false, but that was fine—everyone knew not to dig too deep.

Kids these days weren’t that easy to fool. Yuan Yuanyuan thought back to when she was in middle school—she was already contemplating the origin of humans and the universe, wondering how humanity should survive on this earth…

Demon Notes had printed her face big and clear in the latest issue. Given how she’d been avoiding everyone lately, it wouldn’t have been easy to talk her way out of it anyway.

She lay on her desk, looking at the densely packed notes. She’d memorized over a hundred spells in just a few days—sleep-deprived and obsessive—because the sooner she mastered them, the sooner she’d have a means of self-defense.

It was like this—if someone goes hungry for a week, they’ll never waste food again. If someone goes thirsty for three days, they might start worshipping the river god.

Yuan Yuanyuan never imagined she’d still be able to focus like this after all these years. Post-high school graduation, here she was, cramming spells like she once crammed for exams.

She took a sip of water. Back in school, she wasn’t particularly bright—just a stubborn liberal arts student who ended up in the sciences by accident.

Outside, the sunlight was harsh. She kept studying under the glare, occasionally jotting things down.

What she didn’t know was that in the latest issue of the comic, a seemingly minor detail had stirred up a quiet storm.

It had only been a few days since the issue was published, so not many had picked up on it yet. And information spread differently among demons, so for now, only a few were aware.

But those who were aware—demons and Taoists alike—weren’t talking about it.

“Hey, why does this thing look familiar?” Li Zi Jie flipped through a new magazine. Ever since Siqun appeared in Demon Notes, she’d asked Yan Xiaofu to buy every single physical copy to date.

Siqun was sitting nearby, waving his hands through the air in strange patterns. Li Zi Jie furrowed her brows deeper and deeper.

“This thing…” she flipped back again. “Why is the drawing so blurry? Zoom in already.”

Siqun leaned against the wall, still half-asleep, tracing invisible lines in the air.

“Don’t sleep here. Go to bed if you’re tired.” She gave him a smack on the head.

He opened his eyes, dazed, looked at her, then went back to waving his hands like he hadn’t heard a thing.

“No way… I thought that whole group died back then. Where did this guy come from?” Li Zi Jie muttered.

Her eyes finally landed on a tiny detail: the black-clad man’s red necklace with a black cord—tiny and blurry.

She’d been too distracted by Siqun’s scenes last time to notice. Now that she was flipping through from the beginning, this was her first time catching it.

She stared for a few more seconds, then turned to Siqun. “Hey, what are you doing?”

“…Drawing straight lines,” Siqun murmured. “Sis… how come if you don’t use a ruler, you can’t draw a straight line?”

…Li Zi Jie looked at him for a long moment, then ruffled his messy hair. “Enough drawing. Go to sleep.”

The next day at work, Yuan Yuanyuan noticed Siqun still waving his hands around, dazed and slow, even at washing dishes.

She worried he might start drooling at this rate.

“What’s wrong with your brother?” she asked Li Zi Jie.

“Oh, he’s wondering why you can’t draw a straight line without a ruler,” she said with a glance.

…What kind of question is that?!

Yuan Yuanyuan pulled out her phone and opened a match-three puzzle game. She walked over to Siqun. “Come on, Xiao Qun’er, play something fun. Stop thinking about random nonsense. You’ll fry your brain.”

Siqun blinked, took the phone, and stared at it blankly. Yuan Yuanyuan guided his hand toward the screen and showed him how to play, then left him alone while she got back to work—and her memorization.

A while later, Li Zi Jie came over excitedly. “Wow, how’d you do that? He actually stopped drawing lines. He’s playing your little thing now.”

“Totally normal. I’ve dealt with introverted kids before. Some can stare at a basin of water all day. You just need to give them something to focus on, or they’ll develop problems.”

She stacked the cups neatly. Demons were used to survival-of-the-fittest—they didn’t really grasp the importance of mental health. Siqun clearly had some psychological issues. I mean, what other 6-foot guy acts this delicate?

Yuan Yuanyuan figured she’d just wash his cups too. He looked kinda pitiful… weirdly pitiful. If he finally found a modern human game he liked, she’d let him enjoy it.

Just as she was thinking that, she heard a strange sound behind her.

She looked down and saw Siqun squatting nearby again, phone set aside, drawing something on the ground.

From behind, he looked really skinny—slim waist, narrow shoulders. The side light caught his pale skin and dark features. His brows and eyes were like ink on porcelain.

His looks… well, Yuan Yuanyuan didn’t dislike them. It was just that if this face were on a girl, it’d be “drop-dead gorgeous.” On a guy, it just looked… feminine. Girlish.

She’d seen many pretty male demons in her years. But someone this effeminate? He was one of a kind.

Honestly, if he grew his hair out and pretended to be a girl, their tavern might even become famous.

“What are you doing?” she asked.

“Drawing a straight line…” Siqun replied softly.

“Oh…” she turned away, thinking the kid was hopeless. She was about to call Li Zi Jie when she suddenly saw the floor where Siqun had been drawing begin to glow blue.

The kitchen floor caved in.

Yuan Yuanyuan felt herself drop with a thud. Cabinets, chairs, and even the stack of cups beside her dropped with her.

She stared, wide-eyed, unsure whether the ground had really collapsed. If it had, then the soil below must’ve been compressed rock-hard.

“…There’s no more cockroaches,” she suddenly heard Siqun whisper. “They were nesting down there… I couldn’t kill them all. But now they’re all dead.”

…

Huh? What just happened?

Yuan Yuanyuan’s face went blank.

She didn’t know much, but that had definitely been a high-level demon spell.

And he used it… to kill cockroaches?

“Xiao Qun’er…” she asked, “What was that move called?”

“Thread Thread Technique.”

“Oh…”

…

Thread your sister! Selling meng?! You think you’re the cute one?!

This fucking world…