Little Pink Starfish

The three large flowers were arranged in a very deliberate order—upper, middle, and lower—perfectly aligned. Each one was identical in size.

They were all round and painted in iron-rust red, a shade that resembled dried blood. The edges were jagged, as if carved out by a blade.

Yuan Yuanyuan couldn’t quite put her finger on how seeing those flowers made her feel—it was just an inexplicable sense of unease. They were beautiful, yes, with a carefully designed look. Yuan Yuanyuan even suspected they were some kind of totem.

After spending so long in the demon world, she had seen many clan emblems—some extremely intricate. A single glance at a totem could often tell you which family a demon belonged to.

[Group Owner: That pattern is actually really well-known, but nowadays, fewer young demons recognize it. Mainly because no one but the Sub-King of the Hundred Demons and his forces would dare to use it.]

[Black Red: Wait… are you guys talking about those red flowers? The big ones? That design’s used by the Hundred Demon Guard. Did someone here seriously see it in C City? Where? Don’t go blabbing to others—it’s dangerous.]

[Circle: …Dangerous? Dangerous how?]

[Group Owner: Hmm… explaining it to a little newbie like you probably won’t help much. Just don’t talk about it outside. That design’s got a long history. I’ll explain a bit to you, but don’t get involved in anything deeper. You’re too soft and clueless… tsk tsk.]

Yuan Yuanyuan didn’t pay much mind to Fat Cat’s mildly mocking tone. She scrolled further and found out the symbol actually came with a rather tragic backstory.

According to what was written, demons used to apply elaborate makeup before going to battle. The goal was to make themselves look as refined as possible. Not just women—men did it too.

Why? Because the survival rate in war was low. Demons wanted to at least look dignified in death.

It was an ancient custom among old-generation demons, but over time it faded out. Most modern demons had neither the time nor the mindset for such things.

Still, the tradition left its mark. Over time, the idea of “battlefield makeup” became romanticized—poetic, even—like how ancient humans enjoyed floating cups of wine down a stream. It had a certain charm.

In short: it was a classy way to show off.

That was Yuan Yuanyuan’s internal summary.

The styles of these old makeup designs were carefully crafted, though they had mostly been lost to time. People no longer knew how they were really supposed to be done. So some demon—who knows who—had the idea to just draw a giant flower on their face instead.

This wasn’t really “makeup”—it was a symbol. Back in the day, demons would use poetic phrases to describe those who wore war paint. The most common phrase? “A face like a peach blossom.”

So some demon decided to literally paint a big flower on their face to symbolize that kind of beauty. For a while, the “big flower mask” became a trend—kids even liked wearing them during festivals.

Later… came the war. All the demons who couldn’t show their faces on the battlefield started wearing those masks. Over time, they evolved into full head coverings. The masks were painted according to rank—same pattern, but differing sizes and numbers of flowers.

Eventually, fewer and fewer kids wore them during festivals. Today, the meaning had changed entirely—those masks were now stained with real demon blood.

After reading for a while, Yuan Yuanyuan came to two realizations:

First: The demons who wore those masks were official soldiers.
Second: And by “official”… it meant under the Sub-King of the Hundred Demons—someone from S City.

So after all that, it turned out those guys were government troops. Meanwhile, the security forces in C City—the ones who protected local safety—were basically private militia.

The more Yuan Yuanyuan thought about it, the more off it felt. She circled around the idea a bit until she realized what was wrong—

Why does this sound like some Qing Dynasty drama with power struggles between a provincial prince and the emperor? Last I checked, the Qing Dynasty’s been dead for a while now.

She didn’t dwell on the “official vs. private army” thing too much—her sensitivity to politics was low. If she’d paid closer attention, she might’ve caught onto more.

But for now, she set her phone aside and went back to wiping the glass.

Liu An arrived around noon. He came in a hurry, already late.

It was his first time being late. Something had happened the night before that delayed him, and he rushed over, worried the boss might be concerned.

But when he got there, he found Yuan Yuanyuan casually wiping the windows while the whole place buzzed with cleanup energy.

She suddenly noticed a few windows on the first floor had been shattered.

“Wait, what happened here? Why are some of the windows broken?” Liu An quickly came over.

“Liu An-ge! You wouldn’t believe it—last night was terrifying! A whole group of masked people barged in!” Tang Shi waved her hands and mimed the whole thing.

“Enough. Don’t tell him.” Yuan Yuanyuan cut in, “Just eat first. You’ll scare him off.”

Liu An was still confused but nodded and went along with it.

While Yuan Yuanyuan casually cleaned the glass, everything outside remained peaceful as if nothing had happened.

Meanwhile, on the mountain above C City, in that little house…

“Since he didn’t make a move, everyone can go home now,” the old man inside said with a long sigh. “You’ve all worked through the night—please, get some rest.”

The demons in the room got up to leave. But then the old man added, “Please, Lin Bones and Madam Lian, stay behind.”

Two figures paused—one was the white-clad woman just about to leave, and the other was the bored man who’d been lounging near the door all night.

None of the other demons found this odd. It was common for such things to happen.

Once the others left, the two remained.

“Do you have instructions, sir?” asked the man called Lin Bones. He leaned against the window, like he didn’t have a spine—slouching on anything he could find.

“They just waltzed in this time… Bones,” the old man sighed. “Next time, who knows if they’ll storm in and take my head.”

“That won’t happen, sir. You should stay calm at your age,” Lin Bones replied. “Even if those people look down on us small-timers… hey, this isn’t someone’s public toilet. You can’t just walk in and out as you please.”

The old man grabbed a brush and threw it at him. “Of course this isn’t someone’s toilet! Brat, could you not make it sound worse?”

“…Can we activate the barrier again?” Madam Lian asked hesitantly. “We’re really starting to feel the pressure lately. Not just tension with the Sub-King of the Hundred Demons—neighboring cities have started getting restless too.”

“Yeah,” Lin Bones rubbed his eyes. “That bunch of lunatics keep parading their Night of a Hundred Ghosts just outside our borders. Like they want to make sure we see them. Why don’t we parade some ghosts along their edge one of these days?”

“They’re showing off their strength,” the old man said. “We can’t activate it again. Once was already too much attention. Twice, and everyone will know something happened here.”

Lin Bones looked up at the pale blue sky.

That barrier—officially called C City’s Protective Shield—was viewed by most demons as a symbol of shame.

About a hundred years ago, the sky over C City had always glowed faint blue—day and night alike.

Sure, the barrier had protected many civilians during the war. But to Lin Bones… he couldn’t stand the thing. Every time that pale blue glow returned, he’d feel irritable.

Ironically, the demon who originally suggested building the shield now spent his days retired in a little tailor shop in the juvenile district. And he hated the thing more than anyone.

“Yuan’s strength is… different from ours,” the old man continued. “Everyone who’s ever escaped Red Sand Well had their demon power severely weakened. Most didn’t live long. But based on reports from last night, Yuan dealt with those men in no time at all.”

“How long exactly?” Lin Bones asked.

“Twenty minutes. But he had a young girl with him. He vanished for a bit—probably to get her to safety.”

“Impressive,” said Madam Lian softly. “They sent thirty-seven with triple-flower masks and two with four-flower masks. I don’t think many demons alive today could wipe out that many in that amount of time.”

“We still don’t know what’s recorded in the Blood Jade Demon Codex,” Lin Bones said. “But clearly… it’s not just any ordinary demon technique.”

“The head of the Li family didn’t show up yesterday. Nor today,” the old man said. “He probably wants to avoid suspicion. But…”

“Old man, what exactly happened between Yuan and the Li family back then?” Lin Bones asked. “You’ve never told us.”

“Knowing too much isn’t always a good thing,” the old man replied. “Besides, I don’t know much either. But I do know—the Li family head is extremely cautious around Yuan. Since arriving, he’s never reached out to us. Even when Madam Lian went to meet him, he didn’t seem interested. We had to use a noble clan’s quota to get him to agree to stay here.”

“I think Yuan’s already trying to lay low,” the old man continued. “He’s not involving himself in politics. Never mentions the past. I thought… maybe it’s because he knows his time is short, so he wanted a quiet place to spend what’s left.”

“But based on last night…” A deep line furrowed his brow.
“…He seems… no different from the way he used to be.”

“All the same—impossible to read.”

The old man turned to the window. Outside, a tall tree stood in bloom, covered in violet blossoms.

“Yuan… just what are you really planning?”

…

While Yuan Yuanyuan wiped the windows, she listened to Liu An and Tang Shi chatting beside her.

“Why’d you show up so late?” Tang Shi asked.

“Something happened last night…” Liu An scratched his head awkwardly. “Someone caused trouble where I was. Almost turned into a big mess.”

He never told anyone where he worked—afraid his boss might think a corpse cleaner was unlucky.

As he talked, he gently rubbed a scratch on the back of his hand—left by someone the night before…

“Liu An,” Yuan Yuanyuan said, “Have you considered staying somewhere else for the next few days? Wait until things calm down, then come back. I’ll be observing things for now. And don’t forget to keep practicing what I taught you.”

“Got it,” Liu An nodded. “I’ll crash at a friend’s place for a few days.”

His thoughts flashed back to the woman he’d run into last night.

Tch. Hopefully… that’s the last I ever see of her.

Liu An continued scrubbing the windows. Suddenly, he noticed a faint red dot on the glass.

His hand paused.

Then he casually wiped it away with the cloth, as if he had never seen anything at all.