Little Pink Starfish

After finishing her meal, Yuan Yuanyuan sat blankly in her chair.

People around her were gradually finishing their meals as well. The balding man surnamed Tang and the lady surnamed Li both stood up and addressed the crowd with a few more remarks—probably a cue to begin leaving.

Yuan Yuanyuan stood up and joined the slow trickle of people exiting the hall.

She noticed the elevators to the side, but none of the monsters were taking them. Only a few humans seemed to be using them, so she followed the flow of monsters instead.

This hotel wasn’t just hosting the banquet; it was also where the key members of the negotiation teams were staying.

Each room had the occupant’s name taped to the door. The monsters were mainly housed between the fifth and ninth floors. A few ghost tribe members were assigned to higher floors, while the rest of the building was filled with humans.

The hallways were a bit noisy overall, but once Yuan Yuanyuan reached her floor, it quieted down considerably.

She glanced behind her to see a long line of people still climbing the stairs. The noise was mostly from the human side—monsters were completely silent.

As she continued into the seventh floor hallway, it became even quieter, as if she’d left the bustling world behind.

There weren’t many monsters headed to the seventh floor. Yuan looked behind her—only a few followed, and most were little monsters who kept their distance from her.

The organizers hadn’t initially prepared a room for Yuan Yuanyuan, but arranging one at the last minute wasn’t a big issue.

When she reached the end of the seventh floor hallway, she found her room. The “Yuan” character on the door label was noticeably larger than the others—clearly printed separately.

The label paper even felt faintly warm to the touch. As she pushed the door open, she saw a cleaning auntie tidying up. The woman looked flustered when she noticed Yuan enter and quickly apologized, saying the hotel was currently very full, and they hadn’t managed to free up a larger room yet, so they’d temporarily arranged a smaller one.

Yuan waved it off casually to say it was no problem. She scanned the room—it was like a typical triple-occupancy hotel room but with a more classical Chinese aesthetic, quite different from the downstairs banquet hall.

There was a Crayon Shin-chan suitcase nearby. She wasn’t sure who had brought it up for her—maybe those little monsters from earlier?

After the cleaning lady left, Yuan was alone in the room.

Once she was sure no one else was around, Yuan quickly got up and locked the door. She circled the room looking for a place to charge her phone, but after searching thoroughly, she found nothing—not even a television.

Sitting on the bed, thoroughly baffled, she eventually had a stroke of inspiration. She moved the bedside cabinet and found a sealed-up power outlet behind it. A faint square outline was still visible on the wall.

Ah… humans really were meticulous.

Leaving an outlet behind might tempt some overly curious—and frankly bored—monster to stick their claw into it… The mental image made Yuan’s expression darken.

Despite the humans’ “thoughtfulness,” it didn’t help her charge her phone. Holding her dead phone and charger, Yuan sat there dumbfounded for a long while before finally deciding this couldn’t go on. She opened the door and stepped out.

Not everyone was asleep yet—some monsters and humans were still up and about, energized. Many people were in the hallways, and looking out the window, the plaza below was brightly lit. Many room lights were still on.

In the corridor, a young girl had her back to the entrance as she cleaned. Yuan crept up quietly, tapped the girl’s shoulder, and—sounding like she was selling bootleg DVDs—asked in a low voice:

“Hey… is there anywhere I can charge a phone?”

The girl looked stunned. A monster suddenly appearing beside her holding a charger and a phone? It was… not something you saw every day.

After staring blankly for a bit, she finally replied, “T-There aren’t any outlets on these floors… Only in the human sections. My dorm room has one. You can come with me if you want.”

“Great! Yes, please!” Yuan lit up instantly and happily followed the girl down to the fourth floor.

Below the fifth floor was the human area. The moment Yuan stepped in, she felt a lively atmosphere all around her.

The hallway was filled with people, including some children—probably relatives of the guests. The vibe was completely different from above—cheerful, bright, and warm.

The surroundings had a more typical hotel feel.

Yuan finally felt like she’d returned to a familiar environment. She exhaled deeply for the first time that night.

She followed the girl past a group of kids and a young man into an employee dorm room with three beds. It looked like a normal hotel suite.

“No one should be back tonight,” the girl said. “You can charge your phone here for now… I’ll let someone upstairs know tomorrow to see if they can switch your room. What’s your room number?”

“My room number?” Yuan thought for a second. “End of the seventh floor… 730. Thanks, really.”

After the girl left, Yuan turned on her phone. It hadn’t been powered on in a week, so no new messages had come through yet.

But the moment it booted up, notification sounds started pouring in. She waited until they stopped and found five missed calls and several texts. She hadn’t yet checked her WeChat or QQ.

The text messages were a mix—some from China Mobile, some spam, and a few from Liu An, Tang Shi, and Qiu Ling.

She read them all one by one. Liu An said he had already arrived, and she replied to let him know she was there too. Then she checked Tang Shi’s message.

Tang Shi asked where she’d gone lately, saying her illusion magic seemed to be improving and asked if she wanted to take a look. Yuan imagined Tang Shi’s smug little expression while texting. For someone who’d always hated illusion magic, making progress was quite the feat.

Qiu Ling’s message was a little different. Yuan frowned slightly as she read it.

She carefully reread the whole thing. Qiu Ling said that City C had been unstable lately—there had been multiple Hyakki Yakō (hundred-ghost night parades) in just one week. She’d never seen that many occur in such a short time.

There had also been a series of murders, and the killer hadn’t been found. The news was constantly covering it. Though the culprit was still unknown, Tang Shi had quietly told her it was the work of a monster—the media just didn’t dare report it that way.

Piecing these scattered details together, Qiu Ling had messaged her about three days ago. Yuan typed up several hundred words in response, advising her to stay indoors unless necessary. If anything felt wrong, call the police immediately.

If the police showed up, monsters might behave a little more cautiously—after all, they were tied to government institutions on the human side. After replying, Yuan checked for updates on Monster Chronicles. Three issues had been released since she last read, so she downloaded them for later.

Just then, the door opened, and the same girl from before returned.

Yuan looked up and met her gaze. The girl, seemingly nervous, stammered, “Um… um… your room has been prepared—it’s on the fourth floor. We’ve arranged a private one for you. Not many people are around there, so if you need anything, you can just let us know…”

“Fourth floor?” Yuan blinked. “Isn’t that the human area?”

“Yes,” the girl grew more nervous. “B-But it’s the only floor with working outlets. We’ve already relocated people from nearby rooms, so the area is mostly empty. You can come and go via the east stairwell. It’s been sealed off, so no one else will be using it.”

“Oh.” Yuan felt a bit awkward. She’d just casually mentioned the lack of outlets, and now they’d gone through the trouble of clearing out rooms and sealing off a whole hallway.

But from the human side’s perspective, it probably was necessary—to avoid potential accidents, like a monster harming someone.

Yuan didn’t think she’d hurt anyone… but better to avoid misunderstandings, right?

“Would you… like to go now?” the girl asked. “I can take you. It’s not far.”

“Sure, let’s go.” Yuan put down her phone and followed her. The girl was quiet as they walked deeper into the corridor.

“This place…” Yuan glanced around at the decorations, “It’s actually really nice. A hotel like this, deep in the mountains—with electricity, water, and heating.”

“This was originally the Nanchun Restaurant,” the girl said softly. “Not newly built. It was the old place, renovated a few times. They added electricity and heating and remodeled the interior. It’s usually used to host visiting Taoists.”

Yuan didn’t say anything else. The name Nanchun Restaurant sounded like some well-known spot, so she kept quiet to avoid sounding ignorant.

The girl led her down a hallway, then turned a corner. It was completely empty. She set up a “Do Not Enter” sign and led Yuan to a room, handing her a keycard.

“Do you need me to bring anything up for you?” she asked.

Yuan shook her head. “I’ve got a suitcase in my room. I’ll grab it later—don’t worry.”

She really didn’t want anyone else seeing that Crayon Shin-chan suitcase…

“Okay, then I’ll take my leave. If you need anything, just call me.” The girl hesitated for a long moment. Yuan noticed she hadn’t left yet and looked back, puzzled. “What’s up?”

“Um…” the girl mumbled something Yuan couldn’t quite hear.

She leaned in, frowning, trying to make out what the girl was saying—just as the girl suddenly straightened, bowed sharply, and shouted:

“Can I have your autograph?!”

Her voice echoed through half the hallway. The lights overhead flickered on all at once—

And Yuan nearly went deaf from the shout.

She jumped in shock. The girl in front of her remained bent at the waist, looking like she was about to die from embarrassment. Yuan stared at the lit-up hallway and thought:

Huh?

…Huh?

…What?

She looked down again at the girl.

The girl sheepishly pulled a long-hidden pen from her pocket and placed a small notebook in front of her. She opened to a fresh page—past a section filled with signatures of handsome young idols and suave older men.

Yuan looked at her, at the blushing girl who seemed almost terrified.

After a brief daze, she hesitantly picked up the pen and wrote the character “渊” (Yuan).

Neatly written in small, upright script… it stood out like a sore thumb amid all the wild and flamboyant signatures.

…It really stood out.