Little Pink Starfish

The taste of demon blood slowly spread through Yuan Yuanyuan’s mouth. She had only ever drunk human blood before—this was the first time she had tasted demon blood. It was different from what she had imagined.

Hot and burning, accompanied by a sweet, metallic tang… it scorched her throat.

She looked at the mirror demon in front of her and immediately sensed something different about him. That person gave her a gentle smile—on a face identical to hers, a soft expression bloomed.

He said quietly to Yuan Yuanyuan,
“Long time no see. How have you been lately?”

…

Yuan Yuanyuan suddenly felt the dagger in her hand tremble slightly.

But she didn’t know why it had suddenly shaken.

She stared at the mirror demon who looked exactly like her, and a strange feeling crept over her. She couldn’t explain it, but she felt like the person in front of her looked familiar.

It wasn’t just because they looked alike… it was as if another figure had suddenly appeared in her mind.

Tall, pale-skinned, with long hair tied back.

It felt… vaguely familiar. She had seen someone like that before, had spoken with him.

But when?

Suddenly, the air was filled with that sweet, metallic scent.

The mirror demon didn’t react to the smell the way most demons did—not with revulsion. Instead, he closed his eyes and took a deep breath, looking rather pleased.

“Seventeen, you’re still as blunt as ever.”

…

On a small bed, a girl tossed and turned.

The room was completely quiet, yet the girl looked as if she was seeing something, even in her sleep, she remained restless.

She was alone in the house, so no one noticed anything unusual.

After a while, the girl finally sank back into sleep. On the surface, it looked like she had just had a nightmare, and now it had passed.

Only the person in the dream knew that wasn’t the case… if anything, things had gotten worse than before.

Gao Ling stared at the scene before her and suddenly felt something was off. She was sure she had just been drawing her comic before coming over for a nap, but now she couldn’t be sure.

If this was a dream… everything was too vivid. Her brain felt far too clear.

After thinking for a few seconds, she silently pinched her arm…

Ow! Wait—no pain?

Gao Ling was dumbfounded.

She remained stuck in this lucid dream, staring at the thick white mist before her. She suspected she was trapped in a nightmare, but since this was her first time having a dream like this, she had no idea how to wake herself up.

After thinking for a bit, Gao Ling suddenly pointed at the sky and shouted,
“I agree to join you!”

“Balala Little Magic Fairy, transform!”

“Eat grapes without spitting out the skins!”

…Nothing. Guess that didn’t work either.

Gao Ling dropped her hand and stepped into the white mist.

She had no idea how thick the mist was, but it gave her an ominous feeling. It reminded her of a film she’d seen from some tabloid studio—The Mist.

In it, a man flees with his son at the end of the world. Thinking the boy won’t survive, he kills him. But just after he does, the rescue team arrives… yeah, that kind of movie. Gao Ling still believed the director must have gone through something.

She didn’t know how long she walked. Just as she started to feel scared, the mist suddenly parted, and a light appeared in front of her.

Gao Ling blinked, frowning at her surroundings. It seemed like she’d wandered somewhere familiar—near the café at the turn downstairs. She saw the café sign but couldn’t smell the usual coffee aroma.

Why am I dreaming about this place?

She turned a corner and suddenly gasped. The glass on the other side of the café had shattered, fragments scattered across the ground. Half the street was covered in broken glass—tiny shards everywhere. If someone stepped on them, they’d probably bleed.

She carefully stepped around it, a sense of unease growing. The street was empty, the café deserted. She saw blood on the ground but heard no screams.

Gao Ling quietly crouched to tie her shoelaces. She was ready to run if needed. Her ears were on high alert, listening for the slightest sound, worried something—a chicken egg or a black-and-white bear—might suddenly jump out. Either way, she needed to be ready.

She continued forward, following the flower beds on both sides of the road until she reached a slightly more open area.

That’s when she saw them.

Two people stood ahead.

Gao Ling froze. Neither had turned to look her way.

Then she stiffened again—she recognized one of them.

Why is he in my dream? Gao Ling was shocked.

Oh my god, am I dreaming of my crush? I need to log this dream for future reference.

Yuan stood on the left, another man to his right.

Gao Ling realized she couldn’t see the face of the man on the right—it was blurry. But he wore the exact same clothes as Yuan: tall, pale, with his hair tied in a red ribbon.

Yuan held a knife. So did the other man. They both appeared calm, so Gao Ling hadn’t noticed the danger at first.

Only when she got closer did her mind suddenly go blank.

…

The man with the blurred face had already stabbed Yuan in the abdomen. His own body was covered in blood and wounds.

Blood spread across the ground like a red tide, stretching into the unseen darkness.

Gao Ling could even hear the sticky, squelching sound of liquid, like bugs crawling and gnawing on her mind.

The blood crept to her feet. The air filled with the sound of something breaking—clear, sharp, heart-wrenching.

It was… glass. Shattering. Countless shards fell to the ground with a crashing sound.

Gao Ling’s mind went blank for a few seconds before she snapped back. She tried to touch the knife embedded in Yuan’s stomach—but no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t touch it.

It was an illusion. Her fingers passed through Yuan’s body like mist.

Was this… a dream?

She tried several times, her hands beginning to tremble. She couldn’t touch anything—but her fear was very, very real.

A nameless dread surged in her chest. She suddenly looked up at Yuan’s face.

Yuan’s head was bowed, his bangs falling forward. They were so close that Gao Ling could see his eyes behind his fringe.

She had never been this close to him before—close enough to hear his heavy breathing.

The closeness brought a strange feeling, quickly pushed aside by the sight of the dagger in Yuan’s abdomen. Her mind could barely focus on anything else.

Yuan’s lips were extremely red—far redder than she remembered. His face, in contrast, was ghostly pale, even paler than when she’d seen him earlier in the restroom.

At such a close distance, Gao Ling finally heard the two speak. They barely moved their lips.

She leaned in, trembling.

“Is this how old friends meet again?” the faceless man said with a smile. “You’ve always been this ruthless.”

Yuan could only breathe heavily. Gao Ling realized he could barely speak.

Who’s ruthless?! He’s about to die! Gao Ling wanted to scream.

Before she could say anything else, the scene suddenly blurred. When she looked again, the two had leapt ten meters apart, now locked in brutal combat. Every blow they exchanged thundered in her ears.

Cracks split open on the ground beneath them, radiating outward from the faceless man’s feet. The earth trembled violently. Nearby stores clattered, cabinets fell, vases shattered.

Everything was chaos. Nothing was clear.

Gao Ling felt like the air around her had grown thinner. Her nose caught a scent she couldn’t identify.

Sweet. Spicy. Burning hot.

The demon patterns on Yuan’s face had crept down to his neck. His red eyes glowed like blood. He didn’t even look human anymore. The more demon-like he appeared, the more terrifying he became.

For a moment, Gao Ling thought he was more beast than man.

The dagger in his hand suddenly lengthened—long and white like a crescent moon.

But it wasn’t just a blade—it looked like… bone.

Yuan’s eyes gleamed red. After a while, the two stopped fighting. Blood pooled even more on the ground—coming from Yuan.

He clutched his stomach. His lips had turned even redder.

“You shouldn’t have come back alive. If you had died, none of this would’ve happened,” the faceless one said, spreading his hands.

“Yeah… if I had died, none of this would’ve happened,” Yuan echoed softly.

“By the way, I’m not as skilled as you, but I managed to get some useful intel,” the faceless man said. “I infiltrated their ranks and pulled out a lot. They really hate you. They think you’re a cowardly traitor who got soft with age.”

“They’re not very smart,” Yuan chuckled. “None of them are.”

“Exactly.” The other man shrugged. “It’s unfair to you, really. I’d need twice the time you would to extract a secret. But how do you stop them? They’re all crazy now. They want war because only war can break the current stalemate. After victory, we could finally demand things from the humans—just like they’ve always demanded from us.”

Yuan stood slowly, hand pressed to his stomach. Gao Ling thought he’d fall, but he forced himself upright.

She suddenly realized… the two of them knew each other. Well.

Yuan spoke with a tone only used between old friends,
“So you went to the anti-war faction as a spy… just like I came here as a spy.”

As he spoke, he suddenly coughed up blood.

“Use less demon magic,” the faceless demon’s voice softened. He sounded like someone comforting a long-time friend. “The less magic you use, the less suffering you’ll endure.”

Yuan lowered his head. Since earlier, the red in his eyes had faded. The bleeding had mostly stopped. But Gao Ling didn’t feel reassured—he gave off the heavy, fading aura of someone at the end.

“Why… did you come here?” Yuan’s voice was faint and confused. He could no longer stand and sank to one knee, like someone who had lost his way.

“I didn’t want it to be like this,” the faceless one said softly. “But you came back. I came here ready to die. If I kill you, I erase a mistake. If you kill me… the anti-war group will hate you. I didn’t want that either.”

“So… are you just going to let me kill you?”

…

The mirror demon and Seventeen were once brothers. Yuan Yuanyuan didn’t know why, but memories suddenly began flooding her mind.

She remembered the two of them attending classes together, sharing a cup, sleeping in the same bed, fighting side by side on the battlefield.

Seventeen had been part of the Blood Jade Demon Army. She wasn’t, but back then, they had been close comrades.

The more she remembered, the more tears welled in her eyes.

She felt like she shouldn’t cry, but couldn’t help it. It felt like watching a stranger curled up in a corner, head buried, silently weeping.

—Who was crying?

Gao Ling was on the verge of panic, but she couldn’t wake from this hyper-real dream.

She wanted to bruise her arm to break free. But the faceless demon slowly knelt in front of Yuan, face-to-face.

No! Don’t kill him! He… he doesn’t mean you harm!

Gao Ling’s tears finally spilled over. She wanted to rush in and separate them, but she could only touch air.

She could only watch as the man gently smiled, reaching out to caress Yuan’s face, fingertips glowing faint red.

“You ever… think of me as a friend?” Yuan whispered weakly, almost like a dream.

The mirror demon froze.

Friend?

His gaze turned dazed for a moment.

…

Maybe… just maybe, they really had been friends. There had been laughter between them—memories worth recalling, even after a century.

His eyes softened. He opened his mouth to reply—

—but a dagger suddenly burst from his chest, like a vicious serpent striking from nowhere.

…

Gao Ling screamed.

She saw it clearly—Yuan, who had seemed unconscious, suddenly lunged. His bone dagger pierced the other man’s chest.

They were only inches apart.

The other man’s face showed no recognition—as if he had never known Yuan at all.

Yuan looked up. His eyes were filled with tears… and something deeper.

Gao Ling stood frozen, silent as a strangled bird.

The man across from Yuan seemed to understand everything in that instant. He smiled faintly, much more naturally than before.

“You’re still strong.”

“But I’m not that weak either. I left you a gift,” he said, gesturing around them. “They all saw you kill me.”

Gao Ling’s heart clenched.

“Since I’m dead… you’re truly finished.” The faceless man began to crack like a mirror. “Maybe I’ll see you again… by the Bridge of Forgetting.”

Gao Ling looked up. Figures shimmered in the distance—vague, unrecognizable.

When did they get here? Her thoughts raced. They must’ve just arrived!

Each one stood far away.

Her heart tightened. But the dream wasn’t over—she could keep following.

She stood up and followed behind Yuan. He was carrying the corpse of the fallen demon. To her surprise, in this dream, she could match his pace.

So she followed.