Little Pink Starfish

“Red Sand Well… what’s that supposed to be?” The nearby girls, who’d been eavesdropping for a while, still couldn’t quite make it out.

They wanted to keep listening, but the two middle-aged men suddenly stopped talking and didn’t continue.

The first day, both the monsters and humans didn’t make any moves—most people were resting.

Yuan Yuanyuan slept straight through to early afternoon. She checked the time. It should be lunchtime. The main hall below had already been set up with food. She’d seen a sign posted at the end of the corridor yesterday—it said meals were served four times a day, and they’d clear the dishes after the mealtime passed. So she figured if she didn’t hurry, she’d miss it.

She threw on a tracksuit, pulled her hood low, shifted her appearance slightly, and snuck downstairs. She grabbed two steamed buns and a whole chicken and returned to her room. On the way up, she gnawed on a drumstick while playing on her phone.

Yuan Yuanyuan found herself curious: what exactly did negotiations between humans and monsters look like? Were there any precedents she could study?

She finished her lunch of buns and chicken, then began preparing her “gear” for tomorrow. She was a coward at heart, and thus prone to overthinking…

She didn’t have many tools, so she dug out the two daggers—still unsure what kind they actually were.

But she couldn’t just carry them openly in her hands. After some thought and rummaging, she found a roll of clear packing tape. She wrapped the scabbards securely to her legs.

After a few test jumps confirmed they wouldn’t fall off, she zipped up her long coat, hiding the knives.

Starting today, she’d be dual-wielding daggers at all times.

She pulled open the curtains just a crack to peer downstairs. Since yesterday, the area outside had never been empty. But most people just stood around; they didn’t enter.

After a glance, she drew the curtains tightly shut, leaving no gaps, and changed her form again before heading downstairs.

At this hour, most people had already woken up, so the corridor was fairly busy.

As she walked, she casually observed the artwork on the walls.

She took a good look and realized this hotel did have a certain atmosphere. The paintings on the walls varied in style, but all seemed aged, and under the crystal lighting, they exuded a sense of time and history.

Normally, Yuan considered herself decently well-read… But in this moment, looking at the art, she felt like a complete cultural illiterate.

She wanted to take a few pictures with her phone. It wouldn’t seem weird—others were doing the same. Some people were posing in front of paintings, snapping group photos, or asking strangers for help getting pictures with their family.

No one approached Yuan to take her photo. She didn’t know anyone on this floor, and wasn’t planning to make connections either. So she simply took photos of the paintings, no people, no poses.

She didn’t realize this gave off a certain… odd impression.

Others looked like tourists casually snapping mementos.

She looked like an archaeologist cataloguing ruins for a research report.

Yuan didn’t notice until someone next to her suddenly burst out laughing.

She turned to find a gentle-looking girl standing beside her, wearing robes from some Taoist sect, with a camera slung around her neck.

“What are you doing?” the girl laughed until she teared up. “Don’t you have any friends or roommates? At least use selfie mode or something—you look like you’re filming a documentary.”

Yuan stood silently. Truth be told, she’d already frozen a bit. The girl, still laughing, suddenly took her phone and caught Yuan off guard again.

Before Yuan could say anything, the girl waved her over. “C’mon, bro, stand over there. I’ll take a picture for you.”

As she spoke, she gestured casually. “Move a bit to the left.” Yuan, confused by the camera, slowly shuffled over, revealing half of the painting behind her.

“Smile, bro! Give us a smile!” the girl coaxed.

Yuan thought bitterly: Girl, I can’t smile. I never smile for photos. Not even for my ID. Don’t force it… Wait, when did I become your ‘bro’…?

Despite her efforts, Yuan maintained a stoic expression. The girl eventually gave up and snapped a photo anyway. She handed the phone back with a grin. “Bro, I’m from Sanqing Daoist Temple. What sect are you from?”

Yuan glanced at the screen. Nothing but the photo.

She slowly lifted her head, expression cool and silent, just staring.

Only the two of them were in this hallway. Their shadows were stretched long on the ground—and Yuan’s completely enveloped the other girl’s.

Yuan had used her taller illusion face today, towering a full head over the girl. Saying nothing, she simply stared down. The pressure was… intense.

The girl’s smile gradually stiffened. She chuckled awkwardly. “Well… I’ll leave you to it. Let’s chat next time if we get the chance.”

With that, she turned and left. Yuan played with her phone for a moment, then thought to herself—so she wasn’t trying to get information out of me?

She had been nervous at first, suspecting the girl was probing. After all… well.

But she really hadn’t done anything. Yuan almost laughed at herself for being so guarded.

Then she paused.

Wait a second. That server yesterday knew her name—Yuan. But thinking back… maybe that server had just read the name off her doorplate, not actually known who she was.

Ah. That made sense now.

She’d assumed her identity had been blown ever since the server said her name aloud. But clearly, most people still didn’t know who she was.

That realization left her a little relieved. Thinking back to the girl who just left, she felt a touch guilty for scaring her.

Just as she was reflecting on this, another voice rang out nearby.

“Excuse me, do you have a moment?”

Yuan was still lost in thought when someone interrupted her again. Who was it this time? Why was she constantly running into strangers today?

She turned her head—but saw no one. Only a tiny shadow, barely the size of a hand, cast on the floor.

She blinked and looked up.

A small moth had landed on the chandelier, drawn to the light. Its shadow fluttered on the ground.

Yuan’s pupils contracted and slowly focused—but she didn’t blink. She stared quietly.

“Lord Yuan,” the moth said. Despite its size, its voice was clear. “The demon leader requests your presence. Please follow me.”

Yuan slipped her phone into her pocket, casually checked her knives, then followed the clearly monstrous moth as it led her quietly up the stairs.

…

“Why don’t we ever see hot guys on this floor? Feels like our sect doesn’t have any.” A few girls were chatting while eating sunflower seeds.

“I wouldn’t say none… Last month I saw this year’s ‘face god.’ His calves were as thin as my arms,” one girl said.

“So? Did you hit on him?” another asked eagerly.

“Nope.” She shook her head. “I saw a girl walk out of his room with messy hair. That was enough to kill my interest.”

“Pfft!” A cute girl nearby burst out laughing. “I heard our ‘face god’ has a pretty wild private life…”

“I was at the end of the hall just now,” one girl added between crunches. “Saw a super handsome guy. Pale skin, long fingers. Probably from our sect.”

“Wait, where? The end of our hall?” The others perked up.

“Yeah.” The girl rolled her eyes mid-laugh. “He was taking photos alone. Just pictures of the art, not himself. I went up to chat, even offered to take a photo for him. I made it so obvious. He had his phone out—should’ve just asked for my WeChat. But he completely ignored me.”

The group broke into laughter.

“He kept staring at me—so hard I actually got nervous,” the girl said. “I gave him back his phone and left. Honestly, he was scary. No expression at all. Like he couldn’t understand what I was saying.”

“What kind of weirdo is that?” someone giggled.

“Don’t laugh,” said another soft-spoken girl. “He might be some ancient senior. We’re just disciples—better not mess around. But wait… wasn’t that part of the hallway sealed off? How’d you even get there?”

…

Yuan Yuanyuan slowly walked through the stairwell, each step heavy—like a thousand-pound weight on her back.

Her shadow stretched long across the floor behind her, like a ghostly echo.

She returned to her room, closed the door quietly, pushed her hair back, and went into the bathroom.

She filled a basin with cold water.

Once it was full, she dunked her head straight in. A few seconds later, she came up, water streaming down her face.

She looked in the mirror—her dripping hair plastered down, expression unreadable.

She wiped her face and the mirror with a towel.

On her chest, the scar had not yet fully disappeared—it had become a faint, crescent-shaped mark.

Yuan recalled what the old white-bearded man had said to her earlier. She stared at her reflection for a long time, then slowly returned to the bed and buried herself under the blankets.