Little Pink Starfish

Special editions are actually pretty common in manga. Usually, they’re unrelated to the main storyline.

This time, the special edition of Demon Chronicles was slightly different—it had some ties to the main plot. It began from the perspective of an elder in the sect that the protagonist Fa Ning currently belongs to.

After Fa Ning and Tong Xin joined the sect, they focused on cultivation and competing in sect tournaments. But in truth, neither of them had joined willingly—Fa Ning was drugged by Tong Xin and dragged in.

At first, Fa Ning held a grudge against Tong Xin, until one of the elders said, “It’s not all Tong Xin’s fault; she had her own difficulties.” Only then did Fa Ning begin to treat her normally.

That’s just backstory, though. This special edition began with a conversation between that elder and Tong Xin. One day while having tea, Tong Xin suddenly asked, “Shishu, why did you insist I drug Fa Ning and bring him here?”

That elder gave off a righteous aura, and with his odd little mustache, he looked like a Taoist priest from an old zombie movie.

The Taoist sipped his tea, gazed into the distance like he was lost in memory, and said slowly, “The Blood Jade Demon Army… You kids are too young. You don’t know about these things. I didn’t live through it either—most of what I know comes from my master’s master…”

That’s right—the special edition was about this elder’s background, and it told the story of the Blood Jade Demon Army.

The chapter was incredibly short—honestly, it looked like something the author doodled for fun. But every panel was stunning, enough to leave readers staring for ages.

So what makes a special edition “special”? Ji Qiu proved that it’s not about length, or story, but about the art.

The usual chapter length is fixed, since the comic is serialized on an app. If it weren’t, reading would be a hassle.

But Ji Qiu somehow squeezed Renaissance oil painting vibes into this tiny space. Every panel was dramatic and rich in color—he’s always had a heavy, detailed style, beloved by readers.

Most comics rely on story, and over time their art gets worse. That’s why Ji Qiu, who keeps up with detailed, dramatic artwork, is so rare.

But compared to this edition, even his past chapters seemed lazy.

Each frame was good enough to be a screensaver. Each one made your blood pump. The war scenes in particular were dazzling—some looked like a demon-world version of Along the River During the Qingming Festival, with hundreds of characters in one shot.

You could pick out any one figure and imagine their story. Their clothes, accessories, hairstyles—all carefully crafted. In one frame, humans and demons faced off across the battlefield. The demons looked seductive and dangerous, all absurdly attractive. The humans weren’t quite as good-looking overall, but the few leaders at the front had strikingly righteous auras.

Through the Taoist’s narration and Ji Qiu’s illustrations, readers finally got a glimpse of the war that had only ever been hinted at in Demon Chronicles.

And the timing made sense—many comics begin to explain past events as the story reaches a certain point. Ji Qiu’s chapter was brief and vague, barely revealing the surface.

Still, it was enough to hook a ton of readers. But Ji Qiu only gave them that little taste—leaving them wanting more.

He didn’t include fine details. Readers only learned that the war was massive, with tons of participants, and a terrifying death toll. A meat grinder. Many famous generals rose to fame during the war—especially the Blood Jade Demon Army.

That army left a strong impression on both humans and demons. Its members were powerful, clever, and fought their way to fame with skill and strength. But their end was tragic—despite their talents, they were used like a suicide squad.

Their numbers were unknown. They practiced a demonic art that required drinking human blood to cultivate. It was extremely powerful—and extremely forbidden. They were the demons’ trump card. But in the final years of the war, the entire army was wiped out, contributing to the demons’ defeat.

Ji Qiu also included individual portraits of famous figures from the war. Yuan Yuanyuan recognized a few—like “Ruhua,” who had been mentioned a lot recently. His name in the comic was “The Painting Immortal.” He stood under a pear tree in black robes, holding a giant calligraphy brush, as if admiring the blossoms.

Yuan Yuanyuan had seen a lot, but this time… she saw someone she knew.

Ran Niang.

Wait—was she seeing this right?

Ran Niang actually appeared?

Her portrait had serious spy vibes. Her face was hidden behind flowing red sleeves, revealing only a pale, jade-like ear. But her outfit was instantly recognizable. Plus, the caption beside her confirmed it.

Ran Niang was a tragic character. A former spy. Died horribly. Ji Qiu seemed to really like her—he drew her beautifully.

She hadn’t appeared much in the main story. Just a few glimpses in narrative blurbs about “how brutal the demon world is” and “a single mistake can cost your life.” Her name only showed up once in someone’s surprised shout. But even so, she had a surprising amount of popularity—and a bunch of merch.

Yuan Yuanyuan even owned a rejected cosplay outfit of hers.

Hmm… wait a minute.

Yuan Yuanyuan thought for a bit. Something wasn’t adding up.

Ran Niang—originally just a background character—was suddenly appearing now? Yuan Yuanyuan hadn’t known she was part of the war. She hadn’t known all these old incidents were connected.

But now… why was she the only spy among all these demons?

Yuan Yuanyuan scrunched her face like an old man. She pulled out a long-saved screenshot and compared it to Ran Niang’s earlier comic appearance.

…There really was a resemblance. Mostly in aura. That soft yet seductive vibe. Their facial features were slightly different, but close.

She relaxed a bit—but then it hit her. Wait. She’s a spy. Of course she wouldn’t use her real face.

As she started doubting reality, the comment section outside had already exploded. Readers were losing it. Some were raving about Ji Qiu’s art; others were freaking out trying to figure out who “Yuan” really was, and which legendary figure survived the war.

[AAAAAH it’s gotta be the Painting Immortal, right?! Definitely him!]

[I told you! That drink Yuan had—it was obviously blood. Who drinks wine that color?!]

[Wait, I don’t get it. This guy cultivated using human blood. Why would he help humans? Is he a double agent? Cold-blooded, war-hardened—he’s no ordinary guy.]

[Forget who he is. The real question is—how did Yuan survive?]

Yuan Yuanyuan read the comments. Readers had razor-sharp instincts as always. She looked again at Ran Niang. She honestly didn’t know if this person was Yi Qi…

She thought for a second, then sent a message in the group chat:
“Boss, is that Ran Niang actually Yi Qi?”

“Who?” asked the group admin.

“That character from the latest issue of Demon Chronicles. Showed up in a few earlier ones too, had a front-facing shot.”

“Ran Niang? That name sounds familiar. I haven’t read it yet. Give me a sec.”

A few moments passed. Then—

“Oh yeah, that’s Yi Qi. That’s what he looks like with makeup.”

“Wait—what? Makeup? Those old pics of him looking like a girl… that wasn’t makeup?!”

“Nope. That’s just how he looks. He likes makeup,” the admin replied. “The day he got killed, he was wearing makeup too. Snowy day. Under a plum tree.”

“…Why did he even wear makeup?” Yuan Yuanyuan muttered. “Didn’t he know how girly he looked?”

“He’s actually pretty manly. You’d get it if you read his biography,” the admin said. “Oh right—almost forgot. I’m heading to City C in a few days. Just talked to my family, they’re cool with it. Don’t forget to pick me up.”