Little Pink Starfish

“What a beautiful face…” said the woman in pink, holding a peach blossom as she gently brushed it across the corner of Yuan Yuanyuan’s eye.

She stood amidst falling blossoms, like a figure from a traditional Chinese painting. The peach petals swirled around her like countless butterflies.

“Let me take a look,” the woman leaned in close. “Let’s see which little demon you are.”

Yuan Yuanyuan looked at the exquisite woman in front of her. Every inch of her was perfect—even her fingernails were a delicate shade of pink.

But Yuan Yuanyuan couldn’t utter a word. Her entire body felt like it was crawling with fire ants. She lay there on the ground, just like the girl who had been lying in the pavilion.

She saw the woman’s embroidered shoes—also adorned with peach blossoms, soft pink, like the essence of spring.

This beautiful woman before her, in Yuan Yuanyuan’s eyes, was nothing less than a yaksha from legend.

“Pain is a good thing,” the woman said with a soft smile. “It reminds you that you’re alive. When it seeps into your bones, into your soul, it leaves the deepest memories—ones you’ll never forget.”

Yuan Yuanyuan believed her.

She was in pain. Everywhere. Earlier, this woman had simply blown a puff of pink powder in her face when she wasn’t paying attention… and now she was like this.

Dead demon hag, Yuan Yuanyuan cursed internally.

The woman gently touched the red jade pendant around Yuan Yuanyuan’s neck. Her fingers were warm and scented.

“Third Battalion… Seventh Squad… Lieutenant General…”

As the woman murmured, her eyes glazed over. “Third Battalion, Seventh Squad?”

Yuan Yuanyuan had already bitten her lip until it bled. She knew—if she didn’t act now, she might never get another chance.

In a flash, a line from the Red Jade spellbook surged into her mind. She had it memorized cold.

It was the first incantation from the red jade.

Her heart trembled, but a fire ignited inside her. It burned hotter and hotter, until it roared into an inferno.

All around her, she began to see red and black lines—swirling chaotically like a storm of plucked pipa strings.

Then, the lines began to gather—forming a faint outline that enclosed the two of them.

The woman was still studying the jade pendant. A smile crept across her lips. “So naughty, aren’t you…”

---

“What’s going on over there?” Li Zi Jie stood by the tavern window, staring at the sky. “That red glow…”

The tavern had just closed for the night. She’d been laying out bedding when the light woke her.

A crimson light—visible only to demons—was spreading across the sky.

“Is a high-level demon having a parade or something?”

“Impossible, it’s nearly morning. Who parades this late?”

Li Zi Jie checked the wardrobe—Siqun was still asleep inside, undisturbed. She quietly stepped out, locking the door behind her.

Most of the tavern’s demons had been roused. They crowded the windows, staring at the rare sight in awe.

“What’s going on? Everyone go back to sleep!” a woman in sheer pink sleepwear shouted from the hallway. Her hair was loosely pinned up.

Though grumbling, the demons obeyed, shuffling off to their rooms. Only Li Zi Jie remained in the main hall, peering out through the carved wooden window.

“Auntie, what is that?” she asked.

“No idea,” the landlady replied, shaking her head. “But with light that bright… probably nothing good. Lock all the doors and windows. No one goes out tonight.”

---

Back in the park, Yuan Yuanyuan felt like her blood was boiling away. A searing emptiness and agitation spread through her.

Is this what it’s supposed to feel like? Something felt off.

Before she could think further, the pink-robed woman struck her with the peach branch. The blow landed like a hammer to her heart, sending sharp pulses of pain.

Yuan Yuanyuan gasped sharply, continuing to recite the incantation silently.

“There were 137 people in the 3rd Battalion, 7th Squad. All killed. So which one are you?”

The woman crouched beside her, eyes nostalgic. “Oh… could you be the one not listed on the gravestone?”

Yuan Yuanyuan could barely hear anymore. Her ears throbbed—maybe they were bleeding.

She repeated the incantation ten times. Then, she bit her tongue—blood flooded her mouth.

“Speak…” the woman whispered, her hand brushing Yuan Yuanyuan’s throat.

“I’ll talk…” Yuan Yuanyuan gritted out. With a surge of energy, a blood-red vine lashed out, coiling tightly around her body. “I’m your little sister, okay?”

“…Oh? So it’s like that,” the woman laughed. Her eyes drifted toward Yuan Yuanyuan’s temple. “I thought you were something more dangerous. Just a skin-painting ghost, huh?”

Yuan Yuanyuan didn’t respond. She clung to the vine, her brain nearly fried. Her whole body felt aflame—like she was being cooked alive.

In her feverish state, she turned over again and again, trying to escape the heat. Several times she almost blacked out, but a voice rang in her ears.

“Don’t forget!”

“You must not forget!”

---

“Do you need to go to the hospital?”

Yuan Yuanyuan opened her eyes. Morning light poured over her. A middle-aged woman doing her morning exercises stood before her.

“No, no, I’m fine,” Yuan Yuanyuan quickly waved her hand.

She glanced around—the illusion was gone. No pavilion, no pink-dressed woman.

She was lying on a park bench, like some homeless vagrant.

She staggered to her feet, nearly tripping. Smiling awkwardly at the older woman, she turned back toward where the pavilion had been—now empty.

Where’d she go?

Yuan Yuanyuan tried to piece together what happened the night before. It was all a blur.

She vaguely remembered casting the spell, feeling unbearably sick, hearing the woman say something—and then, red vines sprouting from her body…

She stumbled home. Thankfully, Xiao Ying hadn’t been there. She collapsed onto her bed and passed out—surrounded by dreams of black voids and blood-red light.

When she next awoke, someone was banging on the door.

“Yuanyuan? Are you in there?”

It was Sister Xue’s voice.

Yuan Yuanyuan groggily climbed out of bed and opened the door. Two people stood outside.

“Li Zi Jie? What are you doing here? Come in!”

Xue stared at her. “Where the hell have you been these past few days?”

“Huh? I didn’t go anywhere…”

“You’ve missed three days of work! We thought you’d been eaten by a demon!” Li Zi said.

“What?!” Yuan Yuanyuan was stunned. “Three days?!”

No mistake. She had slept through three entire days.

In the kitchen, still dazed, she sipped millet porridge.

“There’s been unrest lately,” said Sister Xue. “Some demons were fighting. I was afraid you got caught up in it. Turns out you were just… sleeping.”

“She looked out of it the day she came to work. I asked if something was wrong—she said no,” Li Zi added.

Yuan Yuanyuan drank her porridge in silence. That wasn’t sleep. That was a coma…

As she ate, she listened to the two women gossip.

“In Peach Blossom Alley,” Li Zi whispered, “a high-level demon died. Killed by that demon who came to our tavern the other day.”

Yuan Yuanyuan nearly choked on her porridge. Sister Xue patted her back.

“What, you sleep so long it made you dumb?” she teased.

Yuan Yuanyuan didn’t answer. Her insides were churning with panic.

A high-level demon… is it that woman in pink?

Could she have… died?

Yuan Yuanyuan didn’t know how it happened, but she couldn’t be connected to it. High-level demons were a big deal. If anyone suspected her…

In the demon world, “high-level demon” wasn’t about size—it was a title. It meant power, longevity, influence. The kind who could lead parades of lesser demons.

Even Li Zi didn’t qualify as one. Despite her strong powers, she was just a tavern worker.

Yuan Yuanyuan quietly finished her porridge. Then she asked, “How do you know who did it?”

“It was in the comic,” Sister Xue said in a hushed tone. “Something happened after the last issue. The tavern’s planning to shut down for a few days. That Ji Qiu demon really stirred up a mess this time.”

Yuan Yuanyuan’s heart clenched.

What kind of mess did Ji Qiu stir up now?