Little Pink Starfish

The black night outside the window was still as if the commotion from earlier had never happened.

“What were you moving just now?” Lin Gubone stood tall above them, teeth clenched as he looked down. “Didn’t I say don’t move? Can’t you all just listen?”

Great… Even though everything had been clearly explained before they came, someone had just opened a window, and everyone had reflexively stepped back, as timid as grandsons.

“Didn’t we already agree to bring the newbies? Why are you bringing all veterans instead? Newcomers might be unreliable, but at least they don’t know too much,” said the woman in white beside him.

“What was I supposed to do? You’re the one who gets along with him—why don’t you go in and talk to him?” Lin Gubone asked.

“Talk to him about what?” the woman replied. “We came here to surround this place to calm people down. If anyone finds out I secretly went to speak with him, what’s the point of us coming at all?”

As she spoke, another stir rippled through the crowd ahead. Lin Gubone shouted toward the front, “What now? Can’t you all stay quiet? What happened this time?”

He pushed through the people in front and glanced toward the lit house.

Several of the house’s windows were broken, covered with newspapers. Lin Gubone knew they were shattered during the Baixiao Army’s surprise attack when they infiltrated C City.

The newspaper-patched windows gave the place an old-school feel. He remembered the first time he’d seen this house as a child, the windows were papered over too. The glass had only been installed about ten years ago.

Now that newspapers covered the windows again, it strangely brought back memories.

Behind the newspaper, a vague silhouette appeared.

A man’s silhouette.

He sat behind the paper, gently resting one hand on his head, brushing through a slightly stubborn lock of hair.

He gathered the stray lock, smoothing it to the other side, methodically.

“…” Lin Gubone and the woman in white exchanged glances without saying a word.

—

At that moment, Yuan Yuanyuan was oblivious to the commotion outside. She sat inside, holding the wreath to her head. Dissatisfied, she took it off again, preparing to undo and redo it.

Her father had taught her how to braid this kind of wreath… Back when she was little, her dad would run around wild with her. He was a master of craftsmanship—the most skillful person she’d ever met—able to weave all kinds of things. But all Yuan Yuanyuan could manage was this lumpy, awkward wreath.

She continued braiding while roasting herself for it, feeling a bit like a mild masochist… She had longed for someone to come, and now that someone finally had, she was the one getting cold feet.

Should I run or not? Yuan Yuanyuan hesitated. If she really wanted to escape, she could do it anytime… She just worried that if she ran now, she might miss something important.

…Let’s wait a little longer.

That was her final decision. With the Tiangang-Disha Incantation as her fallback, she still had a few moves left in her pocket. If she ran now, she’d know nothing. Staying posed some risk, but her curiosity was burning.

She kept working on the wreath—not out of calmness, but to mask her restlessness. Like strangers in an elevator pulling out their phones to hide the awkwardness, she was using her hands to distract herself.

Will they come in soon? Yuan Yuanyuan wondered. Why are they just lingering outside?

—

“What is he doing?” the woman in white outside swallowed nervously.

“He’s fussing with his hair,” Lin Gubone said. “I bet next he’ll pull out rouge, powder, lipstick… Tsk tsk. This old freak’s ridiculously meticulous.”

“You’re still joking? This is about to get serious, and you’re laughing!” the woman scolded.

“Why not laugh?” Lin Gubone grinned. “I’ll be laughing even harder later. Li Zhuzhu is on his way. That’ll be the real show.”

“Li Wangzhu? Why the hell is that old man coming to mess things up?” The woman’s face stiffened.

She looked like she’d just swallowed a raw lemon.

“How should I know? Before we left, I saw Li Zhuzhu pestering the City Lord about coming. At first, the City Lord refused, but Li was dead set on it—said something or other—and eventually wore him down.”

“What did he say exactly?”

“Hmm… I didn’t hear much, just something about… Yuan?”

“Li family’s eldest daughter… went to Yuan?” the woman asked, struggling not to laugh.

“Which Li family daughter? Li Yumei?” the woman asked again. “I heard she’s always been odd, but this time… she’s really gone overboard.”

“Overboard? I think she’s got guts. Honestly, if she can reel in that old monster, good on her,” Lin Gubone said, chuckling. “If they really ended up together… wouldn’t that be quite the tale?”

Just then, another disturbance broke out behind them. They turned to see a white-haired old man approaching, flanked by others.

“The City Lord granted me permission,” the old man said, showing a jade disk to Lin Gubone.

Both Lin Gubone and the woman in white bowed their heads the moment they saw him. Lin Gubone, closest to the front, didn’t even lift his eyes. “Please enter, sir.”

They kept their heads down as the old man passed through the crowd and into the small two-story wooden house, closing the door behind him.

—

Yuan Yuanyuan took out her smoking pipe and sprinkled in some demon bead powder.

She had never managed to light the thing before, but after observing at the tavern, she finally got the hang of it. It couldn’t be lit with ordinary fire, or even normal demon fire—it required a corrosive demon technique.

In essence, it wasn’t so much burning as it was corroding. Since the powder was pure demon energy, anything strong enough to ignite it could also hurt a demon’s body.

After much effort, she got it lit. Carefully shielding the tiny flame, she set it down to let it burn.

It had taken ages to grind the demon bead into powder. This was the first time she’d managed to light it.

The powder burned slowly, and as a wisp of smoke drifted up, Yuan Yuanyuan suddenly felt like she was “seeing” everything.

The change hit her like a jolt—her mind went blank, and she felt as if she were high.

Damn… this feeling…

The world split into a giant chessboard. Every move of every piece rang out clearly in her ears.

After a moment, Yuan Yuanyuan quietly covered her face. If she’d known it’d be like this, why had she wasted all that time learning the Chessboard Incantation? She’d practically gone mad studying it, yet here just a bit of powder did more than anything else.

She didn’t know what other effects the powder might have, but its clarity far exceeded a kerosene lamp… even beat the tavern setup. Maybe because she used more this time?

Things she hadn’t “seen” before were now laid bare. She saw the demons hiding under the “black sky” outside. She had guessed there were about a hundred earlier—but now realized there were only a few dozen.

Not as scary as she thought.

Though their auras were jumbled together, for some reason, she could distinguish them all—something even she found hard to believe.

As she was marveling at this new awareness, she sensed someone approaching.

She instantly sat up straight, tossing the half-finished wreath aside, and stared tensely at the door.

She’d waited all night… Finally, someone had come.

Who could it be?

When the door opened, a flood of imagined scenarios raced through her mind—it might be the one who’d passed her a message before, or someone familiar. But when she saw the old man who stepped inside, her nerves instantly went taut.

“You still look the same,” the old man said to her. “But I’ve grown old.”

…Who the hell is this guy?

That was the first thought in Yuan Yuanyuan’s mind.

The second—Holy crap! I caught a big fish!

Turns out, it had been worth squatting here sleepless for so long.

This man clearly had power—only someone with influence could bring so many people to corner her. He must’ve seen her peek out earlier and decided to come now, realizing there was no point hiding anymore.

So maybe… she’d accidentally done something good.

As her mind churned, she came up with a theory that seemed solid enough. Even if it didn’t align perfectly with reality, it didn’t really matter now.

She had prepared countless routines for questioning the first person who entered, and now, finally, they’d come in handy. She watched the old man carefully, waiting for his reaction to decide what to say.

But instead of getting to the point, he opened like an old friend reminiscing: “Yuan, your temperament has changed a lot over the years.”

—An old friend? Or… an old acquaintance?

It startled her. But she also knew that if he really suspected her, he wouldn’t be speaking like this. So she didn’t move, waited three seconds, and said:

“People change. Haven’t you?”

The old man seemed to smile. He pulled out a chair and sat down, looking at her. “Seems like I’ve changed more. I expected you to leap out of that chair the moment you saw me.”

Yuan Yuanyuan desperately searched her memory, but couldn’t place him no matter what.

The man gave off an unusually kind, almost ethereal aura.

Her first impression was: warm.

Too warm.

She frowned. Why was he so kindly it felt creepy?

“I thought you’d hate me,” the old man said. “About Qiu Ying that year… I’m sorry. I didn’t plan well enough.”

Then he suddenly leaned closer. “But tell me—why did you come back?”

A gust of wind blew through the room.

The old man vanished.

Standing in the middle of the room was a younger version in the same outfit.

His skin was porcelain-pale. His lips, vividly red.

His long black hair was swept up into a tall crown, with the rest flowing like fine tassels.

It was surreal—like a dramatic flashback scene in a TV drama. The same features, same clothes… same person.

It was like time reversed a hundred years.

Yuan Yuanyuan clenched her hand resting on the chair.

She stared at him, and suddenly, fury surged up from within.

That fury—irrational and uncontrollable—something only she could feel, because she had finally recognized him.

It was him.

It was him.

—

Seeing him through paper hadn’t struck so deep. But now, with the person standing in front of her, her emotions erupted like a volcano.

For a moment, her throat tasted of blood.

It really… was him.

He had actually come here.

Why was she so angry?

It was the first time in her life she’d ever been this furious… and over someone she’d never officially met.

…Could he even be called a stranger?

Sure. Let’s go with that.

The man pulled over a stool and sat casually. His posture was graceful, almost elegant. Time was a strange thing—who would’ve thought that old man had once been this person?

“You’re clever. You’ve stayed quiet since coming back,” he said. “But the cleverest move would’ve been not coming back at all.”

Yuan Yuanyuan’s mind went blank. Even if she stayed silent, others might have sensed nothing—but now, even her ears were ringing.

A buzzing noise lingered, refusing to fade.

But… strangely, her whole body suddenly relaxed.

As if all her strength drained at once. As if she were floating.

—

Yuan Yuanyuan picked up the smoking pipe and, like the man, leaned lazily against the chair and took a puff.

Smoke drifted up the center of the room, curling toward the ceiling.

From outside, the house looked like it had filled with mist—hazy and dreamlike, like a scene in a mirror or a moonlit illusion.