Little Pink Starfish

12 o’clock. The streetlights outside were still on.

This place was different from Yuan Yuanyuan’s original home. After all, it was the city center—there was no way the lights would turn off at midnight. But even so, in the pitch-black night, the light from the streetlamps felt pretty insignificant.

However, for a monster like her, she had another, much more significant “light source.”

It was the egg-shell dome above her head, glowing silver-blue.

The streets were empty. Snow fell steadily. Sitting indoors, one could still hear the howling wind outside, like the roar of a demon.

The wind had picked up.

Yuan Yuanyuan sat in front of the stove, scrolling through the latest chapter of her favorite comic on her phone.

Tang Shi sat across from her. Just moments ago, she’d said something, but Yuan Yuanyuan didn’t quite catch it. Now she noticed Tang Shi sneaking glances at her from across the table, peeking in a way that made Yuan Yuanyuan feel all kinds of uncomfortable.

She pretended not to notice. But as a monster, she could sense Tang Shi’s every move. Monsters were always more sensitive than regular people.

Still, she didn’t call her out—just like a teacher pretending not to see students chatting in class—quietly focused on her phone.

The Saturday and Monday editions were connected, so the story flowed well.

In the last issue, Faning was still grinding it out at the agency. This chapter picked up with him running into trouble during an assignment.

Compared to traditional Taoist priests, Faning was pretty one-sided. He wasn’t great at using talismans or charms. But as the protagonist, it wouldn’t make sense for him to be completely useless—so the author naturally gave him a couple of overpowered skills.

First, his skill with the peachwood sword. Back in the tavern, Faning had wielded a peachwood sword and stormed into City C. Years ago, there had been plenty of priests good at swordplay, but these days, fewer people were interested.

After all, sword techniques were exhausting to learn, and drawing talismans was way easier. So, naturally, fewer people chose the harder path.

Second, his uncanny skill at fortune-telling… So when Faning set up a stall on the street, it wasn’t a scam—he was actually good at it. Scary good.

A lot of Taoist techniques required talent. But most skills—drawing talismans, swordplay, spells—could still be learned to some extent through hard work. Except for fortune-telling.

That truly required a gift. Without it, you could train your whole life and still get nowhere. But Faning had an innate, wild intuition.

Yuan Yuanyuan watched him try to earn money telling fortunes after leaving the mountain, only to get chased through the streets by city patrol. Despite being a demon slayer, it somehow made her feel a kinship with him—as if they were both struggling to get by in the world.

Apparently, life after descending the mountain wasn’t easy for this protagonist either.

Readers might not feel it, but Yuan Yuanyuan could practically taste the struggle of job-hunting with an empty stomach.

The comic skimmed over a lot. The author, Jiuqiu, didn’t dwell too much on Faning’s hardships. The panel suddenly shifted to another scene.

One stroke swept across the page—the bustling human world gave way to a dark corner of the monster realm. The setting resembled an ancient, backwater place—something like the old “Lingnan” region.

Everything was damp and shadowy. Just looking at the forest made you think of snakes, bugs, rats. Jiuqiu drew it all with brutal realism—like a rainforest straight out of a nightmare.

Yuan Yuanyuan blinked, confused at this sudden shift. What was Jiuqiu doing?

She wondered what kind of monster could come from a place like that—and then the next panel hit.

A giant, familiar face appeared.

“Holy shit!” Yuan Yuanyuan blurted out, startling Tang Shi, who jerked upright from behind the table and yelled, “What? What?!”

“N-nothing,” Yuan Yuanyuan quickly waved her off.

After Tang Shi hesitantly lay back down, Yuan Yuanyuan let out a breath and stared at the creature on the screen.

She knew this one.

Wasn’t this the same monster that swallowed up Si Qun back at the tavern?

It was a snake. She’d just joked this place was probably full of snakes and bugs—and then, boom, a snake. And not just any snake, but one drawn with terrifying beauty.

She looked at her phone and realized she didn’t even need to read the rest—she already knew where this was going.

After finishing the chapter, she jumped into the comment section, where fans were screaming: [Aaaaaaaaahhhh!]

Tang Shi flipped through the issue too. The middle part inserted a known event—[The City C Invasion].

Tang Shi remembered the moment the shopkeeper swore. It must’ve been this scene.

For the monsters of City C, it was a humiliating memory—now drawn and published for the world to see.

She quickly flipped through the pages.

Back when it happened, only those directly involved knew the full story. Outsiders never got the full picture. But now, through this comic, it was all laid bare.

Tang Shi felt a strange anger, as if the secret that the monsters of City C had worked so hard to protect had been revealed. She didn’t know why it made her so mad, but she couldn’t stop reading.

The story was told through a series of ink-style paintings:

[On a stormy night, a massive horde of monsters appeared above the city…]

Black clouds rolled in like smoke, with flashes of red and green light hinting at what lurked within. As they came closer, the clouds took the shape of a monstrous face.

It wasn’t just a cloud—it was a snake’s face, tongue flicking red like a cursed totem.

[The snake plunged straight into the city. The cloud burst apart, unleashing countless twisted creatures that slithered into every corner of the city…]

Thus began the invasion of City C. Even now, the city remained sealed, still crawling with small devils. Patrols combed the streets, and snakes were still being captured.

But the giant white snake was different. It moved confidently toward a familiar place: Qiu Ying.

Of course, Jiuqiu didn’t draw it in detail—but Tang Shi knew.

Sure enough, the plot unfolded just as rumors said.

[The white snake forced all the monsters in Qiu Ying to kneel, then began interrogating them.]

[It asked them one by one, “Where is Yuan?”]

Tang Shi had heard that the monsters in the tavern were all asked this same question. But why Yuan? No one knew.

Qiu Ying had always been the information hub of City C. That the snake headed there first showed its familiarity with the place. But Tang Shi still didn’t understand—why bring an army just to find Yuan?

Just as she pondered this, she spotted a very familiar silhouette in the comic. She froze.

“White-robed guy?!” she shouted.

Yuan Yuanyuan, dozing off, peeked over and mumbled, “Oh. What? You like him too?”

“He’s my dream guy! And he’s really at Qiu Ying? I thought it was just a rumor!”

“Don’t bother. They don’t let minors in there.” Yuan Yuanyuan turned over and continued napping.

The white-robed guy appeared in one panel, then vanished. Tang Shi searched for him, but before she could find him again—Yuan appeared.

He was in his usual black clothes, hair messy, and suddenly appeared atop the white snake, staring coldly at it.

His gaze felt like it could dissect the snake on the spot.

Compared to the massive white snake, Yuan was like Chihiro facing the river god in Spirited Away… Tang Shi had only seen a clip of that scene, but now, seeing it in 2D, it hit different.

Yuan began his dance.

A top-tier monster technique: the Ghost War Dance. This was its first appearance—displayed not just for monsters, but even humans.

Each move was textbook-perfect. For any monster, this was worth rewatching a dozen times.

Tang Shi looked at Yuan in the comic and thought: He’s devastatingly handsome.

It was a cold, cutting kind of handsome. Though Yuan was considered the “prettiest girl” of Dream Comics, she realized no one could imitate the aura he gave off.

It was the feeling of someone who had survived a spy camp—dark, but irresistibly charismatic.

If someone like that existed in real life… just imagining it scared her, but she knew she’d still fangirl hard.

Yuan Yuanyuan, half-asleep, browsed the comments. Fans were gushing.

The monsters already knew about the Ghost War Dance, but for humans, this was their first time seeing it.

The visual impact was overwhelming.

Yuan’s dance was an advanced demon technique. The way it was drawn—like a dance in motion—paired with the panel transitions, it gave viewers goosebumps.

[Poor snake… came looking for Yuan, and got him alright. Bet it’s traumatized for life.]

[Did he jinx himself? Also, where did the white-robed guy go? Only one panel and he’s gone.]

[AAAAHHHH Yuan is so damn cool! I know he’s not gonna end well, but I can’t stop loving this character.]

[Just like Snake Uncle… totally messed-up values, but people still stan him. And Yuan’s even hotter.]

Yuan Yuanyuan saw plenty of fangirling. Ever since this comic debuted, people even fangirled over her. Weird, but she’d gotten used to it.

Still, looking at the images made her uneasy. There was something deeply off, and the feeling wouldn’t go away.

Tang Shi stared at the images, especially those featuring Yuan—zooming in, revisiting them again and again.

Earlier, a forum discussion speculating about Yuan’s past had really stuck with her. Now, seeing these panels, they hit differently.

[“Stop, sir. If this continues, the tavern will be destroyed.”] A woman’s voice interrupted.

[Yuan turned around, looking at the woman—the tavern owner.]

[His gaze stayed cold, but he slowly put away the dagger in his hand.]

The comments exploded:

[Aaaaah that was so cool! Yuan really has that boss energy!]

[“Sir”… Just that word makes him sound amazing.]

[Yuan’s usually so chill… only in volume two did he start radiating this kind of aura. When will Faning ever catch up?]

“Shopkeeper, Yuan is seriously cool… but I’ve always wondered, doesn’t he get mad seeing himself drawn in the comic? It’s like a live broadcast,” Tang Shi asked.

But the shopkeeper stayed silent.

She called out several times. “Shopkeeper! You can’t keep zoning out!”

His face darkened—like the bottom of a pot. He looked at his phone, expression shifting wildly.

“Whoa… what’s with that face? Did I say something wrong?” Tang Shi pulled back slightly.

“No. You didn’t say anything wrong… What’s wrong is this garbage artist.” He tossed his phone. “Just drawing whatever they want. Must be desperate for fame.”

“Exactly!” Tang Shi nodded. “They even dared draw the City C invasion. Sooner or later they’ll get jumped.”

At the same time, countless readers were reading the comic and sharing their thoughts. Meanwhile, in a small city far away, someone sat in front of Faning.

He wore a Taoist robe and looked calmly at Faning.

“If you continue down this path of killing… then you are no longer one of us from the Sanqing,” he said.

He picked up the cup in front of him and drank it all in one go. “Have a drink.”