Little Pink Starfish

Back when Yuan Yuanyuan was just a reader of anime and manga, she was an incredibly imaginative fan, always full of headcanons. But now that she was the subject of others’ speculation, she suddenly felt… maybe people shouldn’t be allowed to headcanon so much.

Staring at the flood of comments online, she had, for the first time, a strong urge to crawl into a hole and die.

Today’s readers were just like her back in the day—staying up all night, notebook in hand, trying to decode every frame.

And to be fair, they weren’t really making stuff up. They were just compiling everything Ji Qiu had subtly laid out.

1. First, they confirmed Ran Niang’s identity as a spy, which had been clearly stated in the manga.
2. Second, there was one issue where Ran Niang and Yuan appeared in the same scene, and the transition between their appearances was suspiciously smooth.
3. Third, there was the key dialogue between Yuan and the kneeling man:

“Which side are you really on?”

“Which side do you want me to be on?”

“Senior, you know the answer to that.”

“Fine then. I stand with the demons.”

These few lines triggered an avalanche of theories and debates—at least four or five pages’ worth of arguments.

With 20 comments per page, that meant over a hundred comments were just about these lines. And that didn’t even count the sub-threads of people fighting in replies.

Yuan Yuanyuan skipped over the obvious trolls and the ones who were still clinging to the idea that Yuan and Ran Niang were different people. She focused on the ones that sounded at least somewhat reasonable:

“Wait… why would a spy ask whose side they’re on?”

“Wasn’t Ran Niang killed while infiltrating the exorcist side? I swear that was shown in chapter three. So… was there more to it?”

“Hmm… could she have been a double agent sent by the exorcists? Like a Snape type?”

“A double agent?! Holy crap, that makes way too much sense.”

“Sense my ass. If she was a double agent, the demons wouldn’t be asking her where she stands—they’d have chopped her in half already.”

“I think… she probably saw some dark stuff while undercover. Maybe something the demons did that shattered her worldview. Like Itachi—spy for one side, slaughtered his own clan.”

“Ugh… that makes me really pity Yuan. No matter what the theory is, he’s the most tragic male side character I’ve seen in years.”

“Yeah, male side characters thrive on pain, but this is just brutal. Compared to him, Fa Ning looks like the author’s actual child.”

“…So are we all just agreeing that Yuan is Ran Niang now? Can we stop using ‘she’ and use ‘he’? It’s getting confusing.”

“Why is everyone assuming it was the demons who did something wrong? Maybe Yuan screwed up. We don’t even know how Ran Niang ‘died’ or how Yuan came back. Let’s not jump to conclusions.”

“Yuan’s character was originally set up as a good guy, but who knows anymore. So many plot twists these days. Oh, also—why would a spy save a random girl on the street? Doesn’t Yuan seem a little too obsessed with that human chick?”

“Oh right, are we back to the Snape storyline now? Changed for Lily or something. But maybe it’s just me, but doesn’t Yuan seem way more of a romantic than Snape? Like… any cute girl, he falls in love.”

Eventually, the thread devolved into a debate over whether Yuan was a classic tragic hero driven by love to defy the world. And just like that, the comments derailed and the true mystery was left untouched.

Yuan Yuanyuan watched the truth slowly slip away from discovery and broke out in a cold sweat.

She didn’t know when Ji Qiu would next return the focus to the demon world, but it was bound to happen eventually. After all, once the main character finishes leveling up, they’ll need a proper stage—and that would only come from the demon realm.

Even though Ji Qiu hadn’t drawn much yet, and the readers’ theories were still a bit fuzzy, once Fa Ning came back into the picture…

All of her secrets might be exposed. Ji Qiu could easily lay them out step-by-step. The only reason it hadn’t happened yet was because they were still early in the arc. Nothing about the war between humans and demons had been revealed yet, so Ji Qiu was keeping things vague.

But one day, once that war arc was drawn…

She’d be at the center of it all.

Just the thought made Yuan Yuanyuan sweat bullets.

After all, even back when she read that biography, she’d been depressed for a good while after. She couldn’t imagine how others would take it once everything was out. And over time, she’d realized—Ji Qiu was fearless.

He dared to draw anything.

Human, demon.

Public, secret.

Light, darkness.

If he was bold enough to draw the entire Blood Jade Demon Army—and even pick One-Seven as a major backstory character—it had to mean something.

Why would he put so much effort into fleshing out a side character from years ago if he didn’t intend to explore that story thoroughly?

That meant Ji Qiu had taken a real liking to One-Seven’s tale. He was planning to weave it in completely, with Yuan (i.e., One-Seven) as one of the manga’s biggest selling points.

Just with the bits she knew, Yuan Yuanyuan already thought it was a devastating story. Ji Qiu hadn’t even drawn the details yet, but even the hints had been enough for readers to sense something heavy behind Yuan’s character. He was quickly voted into the top 20 purely based on that.

Because let’s be real—tragedy sells. A male side character with a traumatic backstory will always have more fans than the smooth-sailing ones.

Yuan figured she no longer had to worry about his popularity. As the story slowly unraveled, readers would only see him as more and more tragic. With her decade-plus of manga-reading experience, she was sure of it.

So far, the only ones speculating were humans. The demons didn’t know anything yet. Most demons didn’t really use the internet, and communication in their world wasn’t nearly as fast.

Big demons often chatted among themselves, so they might know more. But for the little ones? There was no way they’d know what the big ones didn’t want them to.

And demons weren’t particularly kind.

But what if Ji Qiu stopped with the subtle hints and just laid it all bare? What if all the demons learned the truth?

What if—everything crumbled?

Where would that leave her?

Oh. My. God.

…

“What’s this?” Sister Lizi stared at a new handwritten notice hanging in the tavern.

“Got it from the top,” a little demon explained. “They want us to post it everywhere.”

“Let me see… ‘No discussions about Demon Chronicles in public places’… What the hell!” Sister Lizi’s eyes widened.

In the back kitchen, Yuan Yuanyuan was washing jars and cups when she heard this and said, “Why does this remind me of that old novel I once read called Teahouse…”

“What’s that about?” Sister Lizi asked, munching sunflower seeds.

“It’s pretty tragic… I just remembered one of its lines—‘Don’t talk politics.’” Yuan threw a cleaned wine jar to the side.

Demon Chronicles—to today’s demons, could that be considered political now?

When Yuan came to the tavern that evening, she’d already seen the notice. She quietly washed the glasses and said nothing. The message was meant for the little demons anyway. Big shots like Sister Lizi could talk all they wanted—as long as they weren’t too loud.

Maybe Yuan had underestimated how impactful this was for the demons. Just three days after the latest chapter, all of C City was plastered with these notices. Even on her way to the suburbs, she saw them.

These notices had enchantments on them, like mind-affecting spells—only non-humans could see them.

In her heart, she didn’t want to talk about it either. The sooner things were exposed, the sooner she’d be in danger. She was hoping Ji Qiu would drag it out to the last damn minute.

These days she quietly worked in the tavern, occasionally going out to act cool and fight evil. After all, Ji Qiu had given her “cool quotas” to hit, and she couldn’t slack just because her story arc was quiet.

Her powers had improved a lot recently. Although other areas were still lacking, she was at least good at running. Thanks to her, demon attacks in C City had dropped. Few knew this, but she was pretty proud of it.

She did it all in secret. No one else knew… but she was happy.

Her experience of becoming a half-demon hadn’t been pleasant, even though she couldn’t remember it clearly. But she didn’t want anyone else to go through the same thing. Compared to that, Ji Qiu wasn’t even that important.

Back when the group leader and Black-Red were shocked by Si Qun’s name, she had no idea what the big deal was. They never explained, and she forgot to ask.

Time passed.

And finally, when the year’s first snow fell, Yuan Yuanyuan had successfully mastered ten basic offensive demon techniques.

She walked along the street. Moments ago, she’d done a good deed—beaten up a demon harassing a human. That guy was still passed out in the alley.

As the snowflakes drifted down, Yuan stepped out of the alley—only to see someone waiting nearby.

No one had come looking for her in ages.

Especially not when she was in her “Yuan” persona.

But this person clearly was waiting for her.

A woman.

“Are you Lord Yuan?” she asked softly. “I’ve come on behalf of all the demons in C City.”

Yuan looked at the woman. It was the same elf-like figure who had been standing at the very front the day she trained with the Heavenly Strength Technique.

To put it simply… the #2 powerhouse in C City.

No wonder she found her. And to think Yuan had been so sure her demon aura was perfectly hidden. Who knows how long they had tracked her.

Yuan stared back calmly, but inside she was already chanting the Heavenly Strength mantra just in case.

“We’ve been looking for you for a long time,” the woman said softly. “It’s only today that we finally found you. You keep moving.”

Why were they looking for her?

“…What is it?” Yuan stopped chanting and replied in a low male voice.

“Since you’re alive… we believe you should be officially registered as a demon in C City,” the woman said.

In a snow-dusted alley, a man in black and a woman in white faced each other.

There wasn’t a soul around. It was as if everyone instinctively avoided this place—like something compelled them to.

Yuan lowered her head, silent. The woman stood calmly, neither pressing nor backing off.

She had come prepared.

Yuan Yuanyuan, however, was completely dumbfounded inside.

What the hell… do they want to put me on the demon census?!

And—she never would’ve guessed…

She was absolutely right.