Little Pink Starfish

“Who’s this Seventeen?” Tang Shi asked while munching on broad beans and looking at the comic. “I’ve never even heard of him.”

Qiu Ling, sitting next to her and working on her practice workbook while also snacking on broad beans, looked up at the sound. “Seventeen? What?”

The college entrance exams were coming up. Unlike Tang Shi, who was a monster and could slack off now, Qiu Ling had to study her guts out. She hadn’t even touched her phone for half a month.

But Tang Shi’s fussing sparked her interest. She leaned over to take a look and asked curiously, “Seventeen? You don’t know who that is?”

“I do, he’s the editor of Faning’s Daojue, right?” Tang Shi replied. “Oh wait, you haven’t read that issue, huh? Then I guess you wouldn’t get what I’m talking about.”

“Editor of the Daojue?” Qiu Ling thought for a moment. “That can’t be right… If he’s the editor, how could he be a monster?”

“Exactly! I don’t get it either,” Tang Shi said. “Who knows what’s going on. I bet Jiuqiu is just making stuff up again.”

…

But for the first time in forever, Jiuqiu wasn’t making stuff up. The guy had drawn everything—all of it—and didn’t even censor it.

Maybe it was the dim lighting or the stillness of the night, but sitting on the edge of her bed, Yuan Yuanyuan suddenly felt an eerie sense of fate.

Ah… the cycle of destiny, the tragedy of fate, the curse of it all…

The gears of fate had finally creaked open a bit, letting the spectators glimpse a sliver of truth.

Just as she was having that dramatic thought, she took a sip from her water cup—only to catch a reflection of herself in the water.

Her hair was a mess like a bird’s nest. She wore a mismatched floral thermal set, curled up in a corner hugging an ugly prize from a claw machine.

…All of a sudden, Yuan Yuanyuan had no feelings at all. She quietly took another sip from her cup.

God, why did she bother drinking plain water?

She flipped through the comic again. That strange surge of excitement she’d felt earlier had been disrupted by that reflection, but a bit of that feeling still lingered.

Honestly, she’d imagined this moment half a year ago. She used to dream about it, even in her sleep.

She flipped another page. In the comic, that line had come from an ancient book Faning discovered—it was probably a Taoist book, not some leaves-and-pebbles nonsense. He stared at it for a second and suddenly realized something.

[“This Seventeen… must be a monster, right?”]

[Faning stared at the three clauses. He hadn’t known they were like this. Back at the sect, he’d studied these clauses, but the version in their books was different.]

[The first two clauses were identical, but the last one wasn’t. The original said “Appropriately deal with monsters responsible for massacres during the war.”]

[Faning could recall several notorious monsters involved in wartime massacres, but none of them were named Seventeen… No, the real kicker was this: why would a monster have written a Daojue manual in the first place?]

[He flipped through the ancient book over and over. He’d spent huge sums of money and effort to find it. But now that he finally had it, he only felt more confused.]

Yuan Yuanyuan nodded at the screen. Right? Of course you’re confused, dude. Back in the day, I was just as confused as you.

[There wasn’t much recorded about Seventeen in the book. Most parts were even scribbled out—like someone had intentionally obscured the contents.]

Yuan gave a sarcastic little snort when she saw the book in Faning’s hands. She already knew anything related to Seventeen would be covered up or blurred out. Very few things about Seventeen had ever been portrayed openly.

In that sense, Fat Cat’s place was pretty impressive. But Yuan Yuanyuan still didn’t know what kind of situation Fat Cat’s household was in—it was like being classmates but never visiting each other’s homes… Okay, maybe that wasn’t the best metaphor.

[Faning flipped through the book, but still didn’t find anything else related to Seventeen. Feeling discouraged, he tossed the book aside.]

[He lay on his bed, baffled. He’d always thought Seventeen was just a normal editor. But now, it seemed like he was an extraordinary monster… one worthy of being written into a peace treaty.]

[A ceasefire treaty! That wasn’t some grocery list—it wasn’t something minor. The more Faning thought about it, the more convinced he became that this Seventeen wasn’t just any monster. The Taoists back then had insisted on his execution, yet now there wasn’t a trace of him. Why?]

Ah, you poor sweet dumbass.

Yuan hadn’t felt much at first, but the longer she read, the more emotion welled up. It was like… something was being stirred up inside her.

As she kept reading, she reached for her water cup again—but before she could drink, she caught sight of something flying across the sky.

The silhouette of a monster flashed by—familiar. Then another familiar figure. Both from the tavern. She leaned out to look and saw them rising into the sky. It looked like the entire street had transformed.

It was the tavern.

Yuan had seen a lot of Hyakki Yagyō parades at the tavern over time, but this was the first time the tavern itself was hosting one. The place was filled with female monsters, all dressed in dazzling colors. As they rose into the sky, it was like a rain of flowers.

Passerby monsters were mesmerized. More monsters were drawn out by the spectacle, and in no time, the street was swarming with them.

This was the most beautiful Hyakki Yagyō she’d ever seen. Maybe not the biggest in scale, but it was exquisitely crafted—like a piece of delicate artwork.

Yuan Yuanyuan stared out the window in awe. After a while, she closed it—though for the first time, she didn’t bother drawing the curtains. She let the outside colors flood the room.

Her bedsheets shimmered with refracted lights like quartz crystals. The glow spilled onto the hanging vines near her bed, turning them into otherworldly, seductive plants.

She went back to reading. In the comic, Faning gave up the search and resumed studying the Daojue. But ever since he’d learned it was written by a very dangerous monster, he felt uneasy.

That unease showed in the way he kept metaphorically stabbing himself, and in how he suspected something was wrong with the Daojue—it felt off, unnaturally twisted.

He started to think he might’ve boarded the wrong ship… Think about it: a monster writes you a martial arts manual in wartime and tosses it your way. Would you dare to learn it? And yet, Faning just went ahead and studied it.

[“Could this Daojue… be meant to control Taoists?” The thought crept into Faning’s mind. The idea sent chills down his spine. So far, he hadn’t found a way to escape from it.]

*[But he *had* discovered a temporary method to manage it—by bleeding himself. Every time the power overwhelmed him, drawing blood helped restore calm.]*

Yuan Yuanyuan shook her head. That was the end of the issue. The last few panels of Faning looked seriously deranged. Jiuqiu’s artistic skill was getting better and better. If he ever quit drawing monsters, maybe he could make it as a legit artist.

She sat on her bed. The bedside lamp was off. Only the colorful monsters flying through the sky outside lit up the room, blooming like giant flowers.

It was beautiful.

Yuan stared in a daze. Just as she was about to go to sleep, her phone buzzed. It was a message from Tang Shi.

[Boss, who the heck is Seventeen? I’ve never studied him before. Is that a real name or a fake one?]

Yuan stared at the message for a while before replying:

[No idea. Ask your dad.]

Then, completely shirking all responsibility, she tossed her phone aside and rolled over to sleep.

Ahaha… Yuan Yuanyuan was sure that Tang Shi’s dad definitely knew who Seventeen was. He’d be much more qualified to answer anyway. Whether he chose to discipline Tang Shi or not—that was his problem, not hers.

For some reason, the future suddenly felt even harder and more uncertain. Yuan thought it over, then decided to just sleep it off. Escape reality for a bit.

Gao Ling was also reading the latest issue, slumped back in her chair, deep in thought.

You can do that? she thought. You can actually use a monster’s life as a bargaining chip for peace?

Damn, that was genuinely terrifying… especially considering this was all based on real events. The more she thought about it, the more it felt like her sanity points were draining.

One: that there existed such a powerful monster.
Two: that this incredibly powerful monster had vanished without a trace. The unknown only added to the terror.

She opened her phone and, out of curiosity, asked the group chat. The number of members had grown again. The group was now officially named [One and a Half Dimensions].

Gao Ling always thought “1.5D” was simpler, but maybe the admin had read too much Harry Potter or something and chose this dumb name.

Most of the new members were people she had hidden with during the last emergency. They’d joined before leaving: a white-collar uncle, a whole family, and a cheerful high school boy.

The oldest member was an eighty-year-old grandma from that family. (She didn’t actually use the app, though—her account was basically inactive.) The youngest was a little girl still in elementary school.

Watching the group grow made Gao Ling feel… oddly satisfied.

She asked, [Anyone know who Seventeen is?]

[No idea, boss. We were waiting for you to tell us.]
[Yeah, boss, if you don’t know, we’ve got zero chance.]
[How would I know…] Gao Ling replied helplessly. [Even Faning doesn’t know. You think I’m smarter than the protagonist?]

She thought about it and realized there was no point obsessing over it if no one knew. Gao Ling shrugged and opened her laptop to draw.

If she didn’t know, then she’d just go back to drawing her Yuan. She still hadn’t finished sketching that scene where they’d bumped into each other. Seventeen’s story… could wait.