Little Pink Starfish

Yuan Yuanyuan sat on her bed, holding a small red plastic container in her hand. She gave it a gentle shake—inside, the thick, dark blood sloshed slowly with a syrupy consistency.

Stay calm, she told herself silently. There are plenty of demons out there who use blood for cultivation… You’re not special. As long as the blood was fresh and nothing weird happened, there shouldn’t be any accidents. She kept repeating that in her head—though she wasn’t sure who exactly she was trying to convince.

You can’t start freaking out just because you’re using blood, she thought. It’s not like she was hurting anyone—it was all self-supplied and self-contained.

Yuan Yuanyuan remembered the first time she practiced this technique. In a rush, she’d bitten the tip of her tongue and recited the spell. Then it felt like her entire body had caught fire.

She’d been so overwhelmed by the pain that she could barely remember what she was thinking at the time—just that if she was going to die, she’d take someone down with her.

Later, she found out what had actually gone through her mind thanks to the comic. Ji Qiu had drawn out her internal monologue—word for word. Yuan Yuanyuan wasn’t even surprised anymore. Ji Qiu had a track record of revealing characters’ thoughts, so she figured this was bound to happen eventually.

[Can’t forget…]

[Must not forget…]

She didn’t know why those words were the only thing she could think at the time. She suspected Ji Qiu might have some sort of thought-reading demon magic. But even then, she doubted Ji Qiu would understand what those words meant—because even she didn’t.

And technically, the latest chapter of Demon Notes hadn’t directly confirmed that the senior demon was dead. But based on the rumors Sister Li Zi and Sister Xue brought back, Yuan Yuanyuan could guess what happened. Someone must’ve discovered a body—and when they connected it with the events depicted in the comic, it wasn’t hard to guess who they’d blame.

Yuan Yuanyuan sighed and set the thought aside. She sniffed the blood—though ever since she became a half-demon, everything smelled different. Now the scent in her nose was strangely sweet and vaguely familiar, like something from her own body.

The last time she cultivated with blood was three days ago. She didn’t know when the next time would be. There was no clear timetable in the red jade’s writings. She closed the lid and put the container away.

She figured she’d hold off as long as she could. Meanwhile, she’d keep collecting blood from herself. The red jade said demon blood was needed for cultivation, but since her body was half-human, she decided to extract most of the demon portion first—so what remained would be purer human blood. Maybe that would work better.

Yuan Yuanyuan was planning to run a few tests: How long she could go between sessions, how much blood was needed each time, and what her limits were. Fortunately, thanks to that high-level demon’s death, her workplace had closed again, giving her time to stay home and experiment.

She decided to lock her door and let no one in. She’d have to warn Xiao Ying too—if the girl barged in by accident, it could be dangerous.

She knocked on Xiao Ying’s door and luckily caught her at home. Xiao Ying immediately came out when she saw it was Yuan Yuanyuan.

“Um… I’ve got something going on,” Yuan Yuanyuan whispered once they were in the hallway. “Don’t knock on my door, okay? It’s dangerous.”

Xiao Ying’s face turned serious. Yuan Yuanyuan added softly, “It’s not that I’m in danger—I’m worried you might be. You could get hurt if you show up at the wrong time.”

“…Got it, Yuan-jie. You’re about to enter ‘berserk mode,’ right?” Xiao Ying nodded with understanding.

“…Anyway, I’ve given you a heads-up. If you sneak in and die, that’s on you,” Yuan Yuanyuan muttered. “Now get back to studying. Don’t you have midterms coming up?”

These days, everyone read enough anime and web novels to follow along without needing much explanation. One look at Xiao Ying’s face, and Yuan Yuanyuan could tell the girl was probably imagining all sorts of dramatic nonsense. But she wasn’t in the mood to correct her.

She went downstairs, bought some instant noodles and pickles, then locked herself in her apartment.

Yuan Yuanyuan entered her room Thursday night.

She didn’t open her door again until the following Monday afternoon.

When she did emerge, she looked like hell—pale, disheveled, with hair all over the place. She stood in the hallway, blinking at the bright sky outside. The world looked exactly the same as when she’d entered. Nothing had changed.

In the first few days, things had felt easy. But by Saturday night, just as she was browsing the latest Demon Notes update, a sudden, overwhelming sensation hit her like a truck.

She tumbled from the bed onto the floor, crashing head-first with a painful thud.

The false sense of security from the past few days had left her completely unprepared. She’d thought she could hold off a little longer, but reality hit hard: she couldn’t.

It wasn’t even painful, per se. More like a violent craving. It was intense. Frenzied. A kind of pleasure so twisted it gave her goosebumps.

In an instant, she scrambled to the fridge and pulled out the container.

She’d have to cultivate again.

Each session didn’t require much—just a small shot glass of blood. But she wasn’t sure if that would change over time.

The incantation was standard, accompanied by fire-based offensive spells, and came from the red jade’s “travel notes.” Yuan Yuanyuan began memorizing them, this time without even bothering to take notes—just muttering under her breath.

In Saturday’s update, the story returned to the protagonist’s sect. Fan Ning had been poisoned, so he and Tong Xin had to retreat for now. Their demon-slaying mission had failed halfway through.

But from the looks of it, once Fan Ning powered up, he’d come back. There were still plenty of evil demons left to clean up.

Yuan Yuanyuan had hoped the new chapter would shed some light on the blood jade. But Ji Qiu was clearly playing the long game—leaving things vague and mysterious. All she got were a few cryptic lines between Tong Xin and some senior sect members:

[Did some of that army really survive?]

[I saw it… he definitely had a blood jade around his neck.]

[Do you know his name?]

[No… but others call him Yuan.]

[Lieutenant General… The surviving lieutenant general from back then. This isn’t our business anymore. If he doesn’t recognize you, don’t approach him. Someone else will handle it.]

Yuan Yuanyuan broke into a cold sweat.

Who was “someone else”?
Another ancient demon?

Her cultivation progress had skyrocketed. Spells that had once stumped her now came naturally—especially fire magic. It flowed effortlessly.

She was like a demon possessed, obsessively studying spells day and night. Even the red jade ones—she could recite every single one backward.

Her wrists were covered in notes she’d scribbled—layer after layer. It was starting to feel like her body was no longer fully under her control. Her daily routines were the same, but something had changed.

But if you asked her whether she regretted saving Fan Ning?

She didn’t.

Yes, she was afraid of dying. Cowardly. Timid. A bit dense. But when it came to this one thing, she had a line she wouldn’t cross.

She’d spent so long drifting between the human and demon worlds—like a ghost. So if she had the chance to help someone innocent… why wouldn’t she?

As for dying? She thought about it constantly. As terrifying as it was, death was always looming. When it becomes as common as eating or sleeping, you start planning for it. Even just mentally—just to find a bit of courage.

After finishing that day’s cultivation, she lay on her bed, scrolling through comments to see if anyone mentioned her.

The character poll was still ongoing, and ever since that last chapter, she’d been crushing the competition. No surprises there.

Ever since she’d been nicknamed “Yuan’er-niang” in the comic, fans couldn’t stop teasing her about it. Yuan Yuanyuan was a little annoyed—she was a girl, after all. The nickname was dripping with sarcasm.

Then again… she thought it suited Siqun a lot better. “Qun’er-niang.”

[I bet Yuan’er-niang has a tragic backstory. He just looks like someone carrying a ton of pain…]

[Ancient war general, only survivor… There’s gotta be something there.]

[What if “don’t forget” was about some tragic love story with a human girl? Forbidden romance, doomed from the start.]

[His red eyes are so much better than his black ones. They give off this gorgeous gender-neutral vibe. I’m in love.]

Yuan Yuanyuan checked the DreamMan app again. She waited until exactly 2 PM and opened the latest chapter.

The beginning was mostly Fan Ning’s training montage. She skimmed through that quickly—until the middle, when something caught her eye.

A red-eyed man held a tiny shot glass filled with crimson liquid, raising it slowly to his lips.

His eyes glinted. His lips curled into a perfect smirk—just one side lifted. The expression oozed smugness and challenge.

He was the only figure in the frame. Who was he even smirking at?

Yuan Yuanyuan slapped her forehead.

Goddammit… why’d I have to smirk like that?! I look so punchable!

She flipped forward. Her “appearance” only lasted a moment—one smug smirk, and then she vanished again.

But the comment section?

It had exploded.