Little Pink Starfish

Yuan Yuanyuan quietly listened to the heartbeat surrounding her. The sound fluctuated in volume, extremely unstable—like a radio with terrible reception.

She closed her eyes and concentrated again.

The heartbeat around her drifted near and far. Though she couldn’t see anything, she could vaguely sense the movements of the people walking down the street.

Some had slow and steady heartbeats, walking leisurely. Others had heartbeats pounding like drums, growing quickly distant—probably running…

Yuan Yuanyuan took a few steps forward with her eyes still closed, and suddenly bumped into something with her leg. She gasped sharply and looked down—she had banged into the corner of a table.

Limping slightly, she hobbled out from under the table, grimacing as she rubbed her leg. She kept rubbing it while walking to the door and stepped outside.

She wondered if getting closer to the street would make the sound louder. But the moment she stepped out, the heartbeat sound suddenly disappeared.

Only the roar of traffic and honking remained.

Yuan Yuanyuan was baffled.

She looked back at the door, went back inside, closed it, and stood silently in the room for about two minutes before the sound gradually returned.

…What the heck?

At first, she had been thrilled to think she’d learned a new demon art, but now she realized the art’s sensitivity was more… metaphysical? Sometimes it worked, sometimes it didn’t.

That made Yuan Yuanyuan a little anxious.

She paced around the room. The heartbeat still sounded like a broken radio—choppy, with occasional static.

It wasn’t supposed to be like this. It was way off from what was written in the demon art manual. Not even close to the same level.

The Blood Jade Demon Art didn’t describe this technique in detail—just one simple sentence:
“Spirits are chess pieces, and Heaven is the board. When pieces move upon the board, a world can be revealed.”

This demon art didn’t have an official name, but because of that description, Yuan Yuanyuan casually named it the Chessboard Art.

And this was why she kept saying the Blood Jade Demon Art was badass… the writers dared to go big. That line sounded insanely over-the-top, but after just a brief test, she had to admit—it kind of lived up to the hype.

The people—or rather, demons—around her: their heartbeats echoed through the space. One heartbeat was like a piece on a board. A hundred heartbeats could piece together the rough outline of an entire chessboard.

Yuan Yuanyuan looked suspiciously at the door.

It seemed that the sound had vanished right after she’d pushed the door open. That must mean something had changed before and after stepping outside that caused the sound to weaken?

And now that the sound had stabilized again… could it mean there was some sort of pattern to it?

She paced around the room again, and suddenly turned her gaze to the kerosene lamp in the center.

It was a very ordinary kerosene lamp, long outdated and no longer in use. She hadn’t brought it—it was one of the few intact items left behind in the house.

At first, Yuan Yuanyuan disliked how dim it was. But later, she found it quite atmospheric.

The lamp was very well-made, a bit like a hybrid between a long-necked vase and an alcohol burner. It had a kind of steampunk aesthetic—very different from your typical dingy kerosene lamp. It had been sitting in one corner for so long that the wall there was stained black from smoke. It must’ve been used often.

The lamp was so beautiful that, even though candles gave off more light, Yuan Yuanyuan still chose to use it for effect. She imagined the day when a guest might visit at night—she’d light it up and sit quietly by the side…

But no guest had come. So, the lamp hadn’t had any real use so far.

Now, Yuan Yuanyuan noticed: when she got close to the lamp, the heartbeat sound grew louder. When she stepped away, it faded again.

What the hell…

She picked up the lamp and watched the tiny bean-sized flame flickering.

No way…

Does this mean if she goes out fighting demons from now on, she has to carry a kerosene lamp with her?

…

Even though Yuan Yuanyuan spent the whole day inside trying to figure out why the sound increased when she neared the lamp and decreased when she moved away, she never really solved the mystery.

But the Demon Chronicle still updated as usual.

Sunday at midnight, the newest issue of Demon Chronicle dropped. In the previous chapter, Faning had completely overturned readers’ expectations and taken an astonishing turn. Everyone was now eagerly waiting to see where Faning would head next, which explained why so many were up late refreshing the page.

She’d spent the whole day next to the lamp, practicing the demon art until her nostrils were black with soot…

Yeah, the lamp still gave off smoke. Black smoke. Yuan Yuanyuan suffered.

She didn’t know that while she was waiting for the page to load, watching the spinning icon on her phone, elsewhere—

Now that she wasn’t working weekends, Li Zi Jie liked reading Demon Chronicle. Her reactions while reading were much more entertaining. She never cried, just—

But lately, the focus had been mostly on Faning, and since Li Zi Jie was a fan of Yuan (the character), she might not be into this arc.

Yuan Yuanyuan looked at the manga’s content: after Faning appeared, he was all alone. She knew the backstory—Faning had no parents and was raised by a crippled senior, so he had nowhere to go.

Actually, that senior’s influence on Faning surprised Yuan Yuanyuan. She’d thought Faning would at least fake some resistance—but instead, he just slung his bag over his shoulder and left without looking back.

Clearly, Faning had internalized that senior’s words deeply. Yuan Yuanyuan thought to herself—even she didn’t listen to her mom that obediently. Faning was kind of a stubborn kid.

[Faning was walking down the road. He didn’t know where he was going, and he had no idea what the future held.]

[As a demon hunter from a traditional sect, his education was all traditional. But now, suddenly, he was no longer part of that world.]

[A wandering demon hunter was basically a nightmare scenario for those from traditional sects. It was night and day—everyone knew that.]

[From today on, he was no longer a demon hunter of Qing Sect.]

[Faning walked for days, unable to recognize where he was or even how long he had walked. He just wanted to keep walking—until he could no longer walk.]

[He had walked so long that his vision blurred, when suddenly, he saw a trace of red.]

[“Red?” Faning paused.]

[He turned his head and saw a sea of crimson flowers.]

[Faning couldn’t walk anymore. Before fainting, he vaguely wondered—where did all these flowers come from?]

[It wasn’t until dusk that Faning opened his eyes again.]

Huh? Yuan Yuanyuan read this and thought—this place can’t be good. A whole field of red spider lilies?

Spider lilies appear a lot in anime—Nabari no Ou, Hell Girl, even that one anime that got censored. It’s because the imagery is seriously edgy.

Flowers with no leaves. Leaves with no flowers.

Of course, few people know that this dramatic flower also has a down-to-earth name: Chinese Red Spider Lily.

Who the hell would plant a whole yard of these? Wouldn’t you be scared out of your mind getting up at night to pee? That sea of red…

Yuan Yuanyuan put down her phone, grumbled, and went to bed.

In a small, dark alley, someone holding a phone exhaled softly.

At his feet was a pool of blood, with a lone, withered leaf floating quietly.

Liu An stared blankly at the leaf. He was a little relieved the comic didn’t show the scene of “Faning” getting hospitalized. If it had, it might’ve exposed his identity.

Even though he had always kept it well-hidden—thanks to Jiuqiu’s manipulative skills—walking around the streets in a hospital gown was just way too conspicuous. Aside from that one idiotic time, few people would’ve done that.

He looked at the sea of red spider lilies nearby and frowned.

Too damn bright. What kind of taste does Jiuqiu have?

“Xiao Liu! Are you done yet? Hurry up!”

“Coming.” Liu An put down his phone, stood up, and walked toward the blood pool.

There lay a dead demon, eyes staring blankly at the sky, chest hollowed out. Moonlight shone on his frozen gaze.

It was 12:15 a.m.

Liu An looked at the corpse, slowly unzipped the body bag, placed the dead demon inside, and zipped it closed. Before finishing, he gently placed his hand over the demon’s eyes and closed them.

The dark alley echoed with the roar of wind, like ghosts roaming.

City C was a place full of frequent, chaotic battles. As a result, corpses were common—and so, corpse collectors were in high demand.

Of course, that’s not what they were officially called… they were known as Scavengers. Although there were demons designated for the job, as the Scavenger clan expanded, fewer and fewer demons were willing to do it. Staffing was always short, so they often had to hire large numbers of laborers.

Even so, few demons wanted the job. It was considered the absolute bottom tier—work done in the shadows, away from light.

Liu An packed up the body, squatted, and used a small cloth to wipe the blood off the ground. As the cloth passed over it, the blood vanished like it had evaporated.

Yuan Yuanyuan woke up groggily in the morning and saw someone entering through the door. He wore a military coat, had messy hair, and was holding groceries and breakfast.

“Boss, you’re awake?” Liu An said, spotting Yuan Yuanyuan sitting up sleepily in her chair.

She nodded. She hadn’t been able to sleep last night and had kept researching. She had finally figured out the mystery behind the Chessboard Art’s inconsistency.

It wasn’t the kerosene lamp.
It wasn’t her spiritual power.
It wasn’t the weather, the scenery, or the flowers outside.

It was the smoke.