Little Pink Starfish

Yuan Yuanyuan sat calmly inside the carriage, still as a mountain. The smoke from her pipe drifted lazily out the window. Though invisible and shapeless, the smoke twisted in the air like a chain, spiraling above the carriage.

There were five of them—five enemies. She couldn’t detect anyone beyond that range. Yuan Yuanyuan sat inside, puffing hard, trying to send the smoke farther.

Those five were obviously professionals, hidden so well that even a trace of their presence was invisible. Yuan Yuanyuan sat in the carriage like a spy picking up bits of static from a broken transmission.

As the first one neared her carriage, she quietly pulled out a small pouch. Inside were dried leaves. The moment she took one out, it transformed into a slender blade in her hand.

All the carriages were identical. The attackers couldn’t distinguish which one was which, so it was a gamble—and unfortunately for them, the first one they picked happened to be hers.

Yuan Yuanyuan sat alone inside, looking relaxed. In truth, her pants were nearly soaked through.

But she couldn’t afford to panic. She had to keep up her big-boss act. Couldn’t let the persona slip.

When the first enemy stepped in, she looked up. They say the shade of the tree tells you the size of the person… The infiltrator froze slightly upon seeing her—it was clear they recognized “Yuan.” She stared back, and both of them went blank for a second.

But then her leaf-blade flicked, and a bloodline split open across their neck.

Outside, another enemy peeked in, and, finding no response from the first, gave him a pat. But the moment he touched him, the body slumped silently to the ground.

He knew instantly something was wrong. Looking up, he saw a pair of crimson eyes staring back coldly at him from the shadows of the carriage.

That was the last thing he saw.

Yuan Yuanyuan silently took out the first two. The remaining three realized something was off and changed course, heading toward another carriage in a clear rush—most likely, they wanted to finish the job quickly.

“Lord Yuan, are you alright?” someone called in. Yuan Yuanyuan didn’t respond. Instead, she raised another leaf-knife and vanished from the carriage, reappearing behind one of the attackers.

She knew this was the carriage with the girl inside.

The three attackers noticed her sudden action and charged her.

Yuan Yuanyuan locked eyes with the nearest one—and suddenly, for some reason, the world shifted.

In that instant, the white clouds above turned dark, stained crimson and black like a giant sheet of bloody rice paper unfurling.

“Watch out!” she heard someone shout faintly from behind.

The attacker was already swinging his blade at her, aiming for her face.

The blade was fast—so fast it almost pierced her heart in a blink.

In that moment, she could hear the others gasp. She didn’t flinch.

She rarely got herself into such situations. She was always cautious, trained to run at the first sign of danger.

But now, the blade was almost at her chest… and her mind was eerily calm, as if she were watching someone else.

Her opponent’s blade scraped her cheek, leaving a shallow cut—but Yuan Yuanyuan’s own blade struck at the same moment, sinking into the man’s heart and twisting.

His eyes widened. He didn’t understand how she’d done it. He had used a textbook defensive stance—shielding with his blade, waiting to strike when she overreached.

But somehow, she dodged his blow with a suicidal angle and buried her own blade in his chest.

Just one millimeter more, and she would’ve died too.

Aren’t you afraid?

You’d die if you missed by a hair. Aren’t you scared?

He never got to ask. The last thing he saw was her blood-red eyes, cold and unblinking like a statue.

Even the remaining two enemies froze.

Yuan Yuanyuan had scared them stiff.

Then, her blade slipped from her hand—and someone gasped. She began falling.

“Quick! Save her!” a woman screamed. But when they looked again—she wasn’t falling.

She was dangling from the shaft of the carriage ahead, swinging like a massive wind chime in the gusts.

But she still stared down at the two remaining attackers, face calm, gripping the shaft with one hand. A new blade shimmered faintly in her other hand.

The two men looked like they’d seen a ghost. She took them down easily after that. Someone came to interrogate them. Yuan Yuanyuan pulled herself back into the carriage, as if nothing had happened.

But everyone there would remember that moment for a long time.

Inside the carriage, she was drenched in sweat. She didn’t know how she’d done it—just like that time at the school. Her brain had blanked, her body moved on instinct, and she’d leapt forward without a second thought.

It was irrational, even reckless. She wasn’t sure how it happened.

Her brain had registered a gap between the blades, spotted the carriage shaft, calculated the move—and executed it in a blur.

Only when she gripped the shaft did she fully come to her senses.

Her opponents had looked stunned. Honestly, so was she.

A flood of conflicting emotions surged within her—exhilaration, then fear.

Holy crap… I almost died that time.

And what if next time she really did?

She didn’t even think—she just acted. And it wasn’t the first time.

The others outside didn’t speak. In fact, some thought, No wonder she’s a legendary demon. She’s terrifying.

In truth, that was far beyond her usual performance. But the others thought it was her normal level.

The whole caravan went silent. Yuan Yuanyuan curled up in the carriage, rattled. Outside, everyone was too afraid to speak lest they disturb the “big boss” inside.

The journey continued in that odd atmosphere. More assassins came. Each time, Yuan Yuanyuan took care of them alone.

She wasn’t trying to show off—she just wanted to understand what was triggering this strange battle-mode instinct in her.

But the results weren’t encouraging.

If she stayed calm, she was fine. But once her blood got pumping, there was no turning back. Her brain screamed “Hold it in!” but the moment she saw an opening—she had to charge.

No matter how dangerous.

The others watched in horror as she risked death again and again—yet always pulled through.

After each fight, she’d sit quietly, pretending to admire the sky while internally screaming, What the hell do I do now???

Eventually, her teammates became so morbidly curious that they started looking forward to how she’d take out the next assassin.

By the time they delivered the girl safely, everyone in the team practically worshipped Yuan Yuanyuan.

The girl bowed deeply before she left, dressed in elegant robes. “If Lord Yuan truly feels at peace with herself, then I will pray for your safety back home.”

Yuan Yuanyuan thought: Goddess… you’re so kind. I definitely need that prayer or I’m gonna die soon.

She overheard the others whispering.

“Is that what a Trick Demon does? No wonder he made it out alive.”

“Amazing… If it happened once, it could be luck. But multiple times? He must have real skills.”

What skills?! There are no skills! she screamed internally.

A few days later, Yuan Yuanyuan was back home on her bed, hugging Fat Cat while reading the latest manga issue.

Fat Cat commented, “That was a slick move… turning a leaf into a blade like that.”

“Heh heh. Pretty cool, huh?” she replied with dead fish eyes. She flipped the page and saw the familiar scene—when the girl asked Yuan, “Have you really lived with a clear conscience?”

“I have,” the comic Yuan said, after a pause.

Yuan Yuanyuan flipped again, then paused.

Something didn’t feel right.

She flipped back to the beginning of the chapter and started reading carefully.

This chapter talked about something sensitive: the “bloodline theory” among demons.

It suggested the mysterious organization that had recently appeared might be tied to this.

Yuan Yuanyuan hadn’t thought much of it… until now.

Wait.

You just introduced the bloodline theory—and then immediately show Yuan saying he has a clear conscience?

What the hell are you trying to imply, Ji Qiu… she thought, rubbing her aching head.