Little Pink Starfish

The snow was falling heavily.

Zhang Qiu had never seen such heavy snowfall before. It fell thick and fast, piling up on his shoulders and head within minutes. He glanced at Xiao Fei nestled on top of Xiao Jiang’s hat and gently coaxed, “The snow’s really heavy. Xiao Fei, how about you go into Daddy’s pocket for a bit? There are tasty nuts in there.”

Xiao Jiang’s hat was made of rabbit fur, plush and thick, styled like a Lei Feng hat with two long ear flaps tied up. Xiao Fei was hiding under it. While not quite exposed, it still looked cold under the swirling snow.

Xiao Fei poked his head out, looking freshly woken, and nodded softly—so well-behaved it was almost heartbreaking.

Zhang Qiu sighed. This second child of mine is too obedient. He agrees to everything. What if he gets tricked when he’s older?

“The water’s freezing! Xiao Rongrong, come hold my hand!” Qi Xi stepped into the shallows and promptly slipped into the sea, holding out his arm toward Qi Zhirong. Qi Zhirong glanced at his soaked pant leg, which was quickly gathering snow, and without a word, reached out to help him. The two made it ashore first, while the others unloaded luggage.

Qi Zhirong eyed Qi Xi’s soaked clothes and asked blandly, “Cold?”

Qi Xi blinked, unsure what was meant at first. Then, noticing Qi Zhirong’s gaze shift down, he immediately beamed.

“Well, now that you mention it—yes, I’m cold.”

Qi Zhirong always felt Qi Xi’s words were infuriating, but he still couldn’t leave him out in the cold. He stiffly said, “Then get those shoes off and wring your socks. Want your feet to rot off?”

With zero idol image left, Qi Xi cheerfully plopped down and started stripping off his shoes and socks.

“Here, put this under your feet.”

Qi Xi looked up and saw Qi Zhirong holding out a hand warmer. Only Zhang Qiu had those in the group—so Qi Zhirong had borrowed one? Qi Xi was touched beyond words. He put his shoes and socks back on and hugged Qi Zhirong tightly.

Qi Zhirong froze, body stiff and straight, but didn’t push him away. After a moment, he hesitantly patted Qi Xi on the back.

“Xiao Rongrong, I knew you loved me so much—you can’t even bear me catching a chill!”

Qi Zhirong: ……

“Why’d you stop patting?” Qi Xi leaned against his shoulder; they were about the same height.

Qi Zhirong shoved him off, coldly saying, “Shut up and carry your stuff.”

From behind came the sound of snickering. Zhang Qiu, hand on chin, commented, “You know, you could’ve hugged a bit longer.”

“Xiao Rongrong, did you hear that? We could’ve hugged!”

Zhang Qiu saw a vein pop on Qi Zhirong’s forehead. These two really were something. He shouldered his pack and tossed the luggage to Qi Xi. “Let’s go.”

But then he paused. The island wasn’t that big from afar, but they had no idea where the professor actually was. Wandering aimlessly would be a waste of time.

“East,” Hei Qian said with a smile. “I asked the local ghosts.”

“You speak Japanese?” That was impressive.

Hei Qian replied, “Some of our local dialects back home are way tougher. We’ve got training classes for handling all kinds of regions.”

Now that’s dedication. Zhang Qiu thought, Civil service isn’t easy these days.

Hei Qian was especially pleased recalling how the ghost officers had cried over language class. All for his beloved Xiao Bai.

They headed east. Despite the heavy snow, the island’s vegetation was strangely lush—like midsummer, with grass tall enough to reach one’s thighs. They decided to take the beach path for quicker travel.

“Locust trees, willows.” Hei Qian glanced at the forest. “Perfect for raising ghosts. If this were back home, Xiao Bai would be thrilled. More ghosts mean more performance points.”

Zhang Qiu had heard before that these trees attracted yin energy, and wind rustling through willows was said to sound like ghosts whispering.

“Your underworld is really modern,” Qi Xi said.

Hei Qian chuckled. “It wasn’t always like this. Once I got the job, Xiao Bai got all fired up to prove himself. He implemented all of this stuff. You should’ve seen him working—it was adorable.”

Random dog food thrown in. Zhang Qiu thought.

“I think Bai Shengsheng just wanted to put you in your place,” Qi Xi snapped.

Hei Qian beamed. “That’s just flirtation. You singles wouldn’t understand.”

“I’m not single!” Qi Xi exploded. “I have Xiao Rongrong!” He looked toward Qi Zhirong, seeking confirmation. “Right?”

Qi Zhirong was silent for a beat. Qi Xi held his breath.

Then Qi Zhirong softly answered, “Mm.”

Qi Xi stood frozen for a second—then squealed and latched onto Qi Zhirong like a koala.

Zhang Qiu eyed Hei Qian. This guy’s got some serious social skills.

From then on, Qi Xi was all smiles. Even when Pei Qing teased him, he laughed it off.

The snow kept falling. After half an hour, the forest thickened. The western side was sea, with a narrow beach; to the east, dense forest rose even from the shore.

“Daddy, it’s all messed up here,” Xiao Jiang frowned.

“Messed up?” Zhang Qiu looked at the wild undergrowth. Sure, it was messy, but Xiao Jiang likely meant something else.

Hei Qian smiled. “Sharp senses, little guy.” Then to the group: “This area’s a mess of spirits, monsters, and wild ghosts—but nothing you can’t handle.”

The way he said it made it sound like a puppy problem, not supernatural threats.

Li Shu glanced at Zhang Qiu. “Don’t worry.”

“Mm.”

Everyone drew their knives. Hei Qian led the way—suddenly pulling out his signature black crescent scythe.

“Usually use this for reaping evil ghosts. First time using it to cut grass—should still be sharp, right?”

The blade glinted red, seemingly protesting the menial chore—but one swipe from Hei Qian’s hand, and the protesting stopped cold.

“No matter what it cuts, as long as it works.”

Swish—swish! The overgrowth ahead was sheared clean. Hei Qian praised it, and Zhang Qiu swore the blade gleamed brighter, like it enjoyed the work. Please don’t become a lawn-mower enthusiast, he silently prayed.

The mountain path was tough. Kai Ming’s wheelchair wasn’t suitable. Yue Qincang folded it up, Xiao Fei helped store it, and Yue Qincang carried Kai Ming on his back—his footing steady, clearly well-practiced.

About half an hour into the climb, locust trees became more frequent—and oddly arranged, like they’d been planted deliberately. The air turned colder—not just wintry, but bone-deep. Even with a hat, Zhang Qiu’s head ached.

Heeheehee— a child’s laughter echoed.

“I hear something,” Zhang Qiu whispered.

Hei Qian stopped. Zhang Qiu instinctively looked at Li Shu—who met his gaze.

“Scared? Hold my hand.”

“I’m not scared. It’s just—there are too many ghosts that pretend to be you. First thing I always check now is if it’s really you.”

The laugh grew louder, clearer—it was definitely a child’s voice.

Hei Qian’s scythe shimmered red. It had been cutting grass till now. Finally, something worth slicing.

The blade shot forward, circling a locust tree. The laughter turned into weeping.

“It hurts! Mean uncle!”

A little girl stood beneath the tree—white-faced, braided hair, flowered dress. She looked about eight or nine, dimples showing as she pouted. But in this winter scene, dressed for summer, clearly not human.

“You’re bullies! You hurt Sheng Sheng!” she cried, rubbing her eyes.

Hei Qian paused. “Your name’s Sheng Sheng?”

“Why can’t it be? My parents always call me that!”

Zhang Qiu thought, Her name might’ve saved her. Hei Qian clearly had a soft spot for Bai Shengsheng.

She didn’t seem malicious. The clothes, speech, and mannerisms were spoiled-child cute. But why had she died here?

When questioned, she said her dad brought her to Japan for a conference. She’d stayed at the hotel… then woke up here. Her dad had gone into a black cave after arguing with some people. She couldn’t follow and waited. But he never came back.

She wore summer clothes, so it was likely this had happened months ago. Her father was a geologist invited to survey the island—probably brought his family thinking it’d be a short trip. She’d died, and her soul had clung to a personal belonging, brought here unknowingly.

“Did you see an old man too?” Hua Ting asked gently.

“The one with glasses? He went into the black cave too. Just like Daddy. Didn’t come out. So annoying—I miss Daddy.”

They finally had a lead on the professor.

“Where’s the black cave?”

“I’ll take you. But I can’t get too close. It’s scary.”

They followed. Xiao Jiang kept staring at the girl. Zhang Qiu felt oddly comforted—Good. At least my son doesn’t want to eat every ghost he sees. Pretty girls still make him pause.

The girl moved fast, like she knew the way well. They hiked steep slopes. Though snow had covered everything earlier, this area had none—lush and green.

“There,” she pointed. A hidden entrance in the mountain.

A gust of eerie wind blew out. Zhang Qiu sneezed. “Let’s go.”

“Li Shu leads,” Hei Qian smiled.

As they moved, no one noticed the girl’s face change. Suddenly—screech! A scream.

It was Sheng Sheng.

Zhang Qiu turned, but Li Shu yanked him aside. Where Li Shu had stood, “Sheng Sheng” now stood with long claws, her face twisted in a snarl.

“You’re pretty impressive,” Hei Qian said. “Took a slash from my scythe and still walked around pretending. Not bad for a six-month-old ghost.”

She froze.

“You noticed?”

The voice had changed—now adult and sharp.

“That voice…” Zhang Qiu realized. “Christine?”

She laughed. “You’re good, Li Shu. But even so—you’re all going to die here. For Father’s great cause.”

“Du Qiao?” Zhang Qiu asked, watching her reaction.

Her eyes twitched.

So “Father” might just be another pawn.

“Did you kill Sheng Sheng?” Hei Qian asked.

Christine licked her lips, grinning like the little girl again. “Isn’t she cute? So spoiled, so happy. I couldn’t resist—had to be part of that perfect life.”

Psychopath!

“You must’ve had a horrible childhood—” Zhang Qiu snapped.

The blade at her throat made her freeze.

Li Shu said coldly, “Abandoned by your real father. This man used you. If he really cared, he wouldn’t have turned you into a monster.”

“Shut up! Father loved me! He gave me everything—read me stories, fed me…”

Even if it was blood and horror, she still believed he loved her.

Hei Qian’s blade nicked her neck. Ghost blood—pure essence—spilled. She paled instantly.

“I gave you a chance,” Hei Qian murmured.

Christine sneered. “I won’t betray Father. You won’t save that old man either.”

“You think you can just flee and find a new skin?” Hei Qian laughed. “This scythe reaps ghost lives. One hit, and you’re dust. Let’s see if your ‘father’ will save you.”

She didn’t believe him. Her skin wasn’t hers—she’d just jump again. He wouldn’t really—

Hei Qian didn’t need to guess. Ghosts never listened until they saw death.

“Sheng Sheng” bolted for the cave.

But someone was faster.

A scream echoed.

Hei Qian’s scythe returned, and Christine was left clutching her limp arm—bone exposed, her disguise gone.

“One more step,” Hei Qian smiled, “and I’ll take your head next. Wanna try me?”