Little Pink Starfish

“This has already been a whole day… why are there still so many people online who think Ran-niang is a girl?” Gao Ling looked at all the online comments, deeply convinced… something must be seriously wrong.

Either something was wrong with her, or something was definitely off with the people leaving those comments—one of them had to be.

Because all the comments were like this:

[“I think… maybe Ran-niang and Yuan had a thing going on?”]
[“Yuan is probably avenging her, and then blah blah, it all kinda makes sense.”]

Makes sense your ass! Ran-niang literally said she wouldn’t reveal her male identity! Why the hell are people just skipping over that line?

Gao Ling scrolled through the comments and couldn’t take it anymore. The whole section was filled with feverish speculation. Occasionally, someone would timidly suggest:

[“Wasn’t Ji Qiu implying Ran-niang and Yuan are the same person?”]

Only to get absolutely flamed in replies.

The “Ran-niang and Yuan had a romantic past” brigade had flooded the section—people even deleted their comments in fear. And since these theories were the loudest, it totally warped the vibe.

It was getting… disturbingly close to the toxic fandom behavior you see in Japanese anime circles.

Gao Ling thought for a moment, then remembered a more sane place to look: a group chat run by fan artists. She cracked open some sunflower seeds and started reading the convo:

[“What’s Ji Qiu doing suddenly dropping this twist? Maybe he can’t write harem endings anymore, or else the main character would’ve had a dozen love interests by now. I was reading this as a shounen-harem story, and now—BAM!—we get this creepy vibe chapter?”]

[“The dudes in the comment section are going nuts. Screaming ‘no way!’ and spamming counter-theories. I think Ran-niang might become the next Mizunotsuki Shiro—where male and female fans totally disagree on the character’s gender.”]

[“Is this really that weird? It’s not like gender-bending characters don’t exist. Ji Qiu probably got the idea from otokonoko characters or something.”]

[“Feels like Ji Qiu has been planning this for a long time… but damn, Yuan’s design is ridiculously good. I’ve read tons of manga, but this plot twist still caught me off guard.”]

[“It’s not even that he drew it ambiguously—it’s so straightforward. Like, ‘Yuan = Ran-niang,’ just laid out there. Thank god he’s not a BL doujinshi artist, or I’d already be mentally writing three alt endings.”]

[“This twist is perfect for fan works. You’ve got a classic shounen setup with this heartbreaking unrequited love layer. Anyone want to collab on a doujinshi? I’m just scared the fanboys will tear me apart…”]

[“Am I the only one super hyped?? Ever since yesterday’s chapter I’ve been losing it! I wasn’t even that into this manga before, but now? I’m locked in for life because of Yuan and Ran-niang!”]

Gao Ling calmly nodded to herself.

Okay, her comprehension wasn’t broken—most people had figured out the connection between Yuan and Ran-niang.

In Gao Ling’s mind, the story went like this: Yuan used to be a powerful demon who fought in that great war, and during that war, he worked as a spy using the identity “Ran-niang.”

As for why he used a female identity… well, we all know the unspoken implications there.

But in the earlier chapters, Ran-niang was confirmed to be dead. So why is “she” now seemingly alive again?

Gao Ling thought about it and came up with two possibilities:

Possibility one: Ran-niang was resurrected. Like, maybe someone used Edo Tensei or something.

After revival, “Ran-niang” hid her identity and started living among humans. Eventually, she ended up in City C—now known as Yuan.

Gao Ling mentally swapped Yuan’s face onto Ran-niang’s red-clothed image.

Yeah… uh… still pretty good looking, honestly.

Possibility two: Ran-niang never actually died… she faked her death.

Gao Ling thought this one was more likely. Resurrections were kind of far-fetched. It’s way more believable she just faked it.

So then, how did Ran-niang fake her death? And more importantly… why?

As Gao Ling was still lost in thought, something floated past her window again.

She glanced over sneakily.

It was… a boy.

Faded jeans, messy hair. Back facing her—couldn’t see his face.

He looked pretty normal… except for the part where he was floating. Just drifting by her window. No one else could see him but her.

Gao Ling crouched down, calculating mentally… yeah, he must’ve been from their neighborhood.

Someone from their complex had probably passed away. There must’ve been a funeral nearby.

When did this neighborhood start having so many weird supernatural things…

Back at Yuan Yuanyuan’s house, the fat cat on her bed was trying to open its eyes.

“Ah… I just remembered I haven’t had breakfast yet… Can’t… die on an empty stomach…” the cat wheezed.

Yuan watched as this tubby thing transitioned from “almost cold” to “lukewarm.” She didn’t even know how to react anymore. When she heard that pitiful line, her emotions got even more tangled.

She wiped her face, grabbed some dried fish, and held it near his mouth. He chewed a few bites, then groaned, “Also… get me warm lactose-free milk…”

“You asked me to swat flies off your corpse and now you want warm milk too?!” Yuan snapped.

Before she could finish, there was a knock at the door.

“Who is it?” Yuan stood up quickly, pacing a few steps. She glanced at the fat cat on her bed. Who would come by now?

The cat seemed to be doing some mysterious ritual. Not sure if he could be seen, Yuan tossed a thin blanket over him before going to open the door.

She figured it might be Xiao Ying, Sister Xue, or Sister Li Zi… but standing there was someone she never expected.

…

“Yuanyuan-jie, this… this is for you. My sister asked me to bring it…” Si Qun stood there stuttering.

“Oh, hey! What brings you here?” Yuan quickly let him in, still surprised.

Si Qun was a shy stammerer, and Sister Li Zi still sent him to deliver stuff?

“What did you bring?” she asked while handing him slippers.

“Food… a lot of good food. Yesterday the tavern was super busy… there was a ton of leftover stuff…”

Of course, the tavern had been packed—after all, that massive incident was like a real-life Hyakki Yagyō. The customer flow was insane.

Sister Li Zi knew Yuan was broke and would usually stash food away for her. So today’s delivery was probably leftovers from her.

“Cool, just toss it in the fridge. Sorry I can’t host you properly, I’ve got something going on,” Yuan said, standing up quickly to check if the fat cat had finally croaked.

“I just got thirsty again… that fish was too salty. Cats aren’t supposed to eat salt…” the cow-spotted cat suddenly mumbled, eyes snapping open as Yuan entered the room.

“Dude, shut up—I’ve got company,” Yuan hissed, covering his mouth.

The cat immediately clamped up.

Yuan sighed in relief. Good thing she came to check, otherwise who knows what he might’ve blurted out. But something was nagging her… she felt like she’d forgotten something super important.

Wait… what was it?

“AH! BLOOD—”

A scream rang out from the kitchen, followed by a loud thunk, like someone hit their head on the stove.

Yuan smacked her own forehead.

Right. The fridge had her blood in it… and some leftover chicken blood too.

…

“How do you think we should handle Yi Qi?”

“If he says his name is Yuan now, then from now on, we call him Yuan.”

“And Yi Qi?”

“Yi Qi… didn’t exist. People forget things—yes, even demons who live for centuries.”

A door creaked open as a few demons walked out. The youngest one stayed in the back, bowing low until the rest were gone. Only then did he dare look up.

He stared at their backs, a faint sneer forming on his face.

…So fake.

“What should we do now?”

“We need to approach Yi Qi—no, Yuan. Tensions between demons and humans are rising. Having Yuan as a deterrent might keep the humans in check.”

“But… is he on our side?”

“No. He said so that day.”

“But can we really believe him? He probably doesn’t even remember how many lies he’s told.”

“Yuan’s connection with the demon clan isn’t that simple. Don’t worry—he wouldn’t lie about this. At least, not about this.”

“…Okay. Then how do we approach him?”

“Send the strongest demon elites from the city. After all, he still claims to be a demon. If he doesn’t follow demon rules, then he’s breaking his own code.”

“So… he’ll definitely show up.”

…

Yuan tossed Si Qun into the guest room bed—he took the left side, and the fat cat was on the right.

“What the hell! Why’d you bring him in here?!” the cat yelled.

“I’m not letting him sleep in my bed,” Yuan replied flatly.

“What if he sees me?!”

Yuan quietly grabbed a bag of blood and shoved it into Si Qun’s face. As he started to stir awake, the blood hit him—thud, out cold again.

“Relax. You die your death. He won’t bother you,” she said, chin propped on one hand.

“…I still want lactose-free milk…”

“Oh my god. You want me to swat flies and buy milk?!” Yuan snapped.

And so, for the rest of the afternoon, her guest room echoed with the sounds of thud and “milk…”

One passed out again and again. The other kept resurrecting.

Yuan stared at the two of them on the bed, rubbing her chin.

“…Y’know what? You two are kinda a match made in heaven.”