Little Pink Starfish

Wu Ci had always believed that Hua Rongyue’s reputation for being “earnest and gentle” was just a façade — a skin he wore for convenience. But after watching Hua Rongyue today, he found himself increasingly unable to see through the man.

He realized that this personality didn’t seem like an act. It was far too natural to be faked. Yet Wu Ci simply couldn’t understand why someone like Yi Linglong would have such a temperament.

Hua Rongyue, for her part, never intended to pretend. Even though she knew Wu Ci had likely guessed her identity, she didn’t see the need to deliberately act cold and cruel in front of him — mostly because she wasn’t good at pretending to begin with.

Pretending poorly just gets you laughed at. So she might as well go with the flow.

In some ways, Hua Rongyue was a rather lazy person — especially when it came to this kind of thing. But her personality was still a serious one. Even though she had originally agreed to help find the missing junior sister only because Six Doors had assigned her the task, once she agreed, she was the kind of person who had to see it through.

She was almost enamored with this part of her own character — though her body was even more honest than her mind, diligently carrying out the search.

And perhaps it was because of this sincerity that others could genuinely feel her goodness — even those who had just seen her strike.

Of the Songshan disciples from earlier, only the short one was still walking alongside Hua Rongyue, carefree and cheerful. The others had been thoroughly shaken by that single strike — so much so that none dared walk beside her.

To someone like the short guy, whose martial skills weren’t exceptional, the strike hadn’t left a deep fear — only awe. He simply thought it looked cool, stylish, and completely different from any blade techniques he’d seen before.

The Songshan Sect, after all, used swords. And he had never been particularly interested in blades. But that strike Hua Rongyue delivered — it cleared his mind of all other thoughts. One word dominated his head: beautiful.

A hidden killing intent lurked within the ethereal. Normally, combat wasn’t a visually appealing thing. That’s why people bought tickets to watch plays or listen to music — but you never saw anyone admire a street fight with an aesthetic eye. At best, they’d gather just to gawk.

But Hua Rongyue was different. His blade movement wasn’t like that of an ordinary fighter. His motions had a graceful, flowing beauty — enhanced by his refined appearance and demeanor. He looked better than someone dancing.

If killing was inherently cruel, then Hua Rongyue had forcibly turned it into a ritual. He was the officiant of that ceremony.

Slim, clean, noble — with an ethereal quality reserved only for those performing a sacred rite. He wore garments suited for ritual; his ears heard only the voice of gods. His body was pristine, as though about to be offered to the divine.

And yet, what surprised everyone was that this “ritualist” didn’t kill. That seemed at odds with his entire image — yet paradoxically, it fit. Like a celestial being on the verge of departing the mortal world suddenly turning back with a faint smile, gently grounding himself once more — offering an inexplicable sense of comfort.

At least in the eyes of the short guy, Hua Rongyue was a very reliable man.

Finding the little intel-gathering scoundrel wasn’t easy — but fortunately, Hua Rongyue remembered some of his habits from Yi Linglong’s memories. He usually planted eyes everywhere around his residence, being extremely afraid of death.

So once she got close enough to the informant’s range, Hua Rongyue pulled out a veil to cover her face. The others followed suit, all covering their identities in some way. Then, Hua Rongyue led them on a winding route, finally arriving at a tiny, squat house.

She didn’t knock. Instead, she tapped the window twice — then waited.

After a moment, the window cracked open. A suspicious-looking man peeked out, his eyes narrowing when he saw Hua Rongyue.

This place was his hideout. No strangers should’ve been able to find it — and tapping on the window was a code used between acquaintances. But he didn’t recognize Hua Rongyue at all.

Still, Hua Rongyue spoke with the familiarity of an old friend. “Hey, Old Lian. Just want to ask you something.”

She even addressed him by name and sounded very familiar. That threw the man off. After a moment’s hesitation, he allowed them inside.

Hua Rongyue wasn’t surprised. The man wasn’t a martial artist — if someone found his hideout, there was little he could do. Her use of a familiar tone was meant to prevent him from doing something desperate.

He let everyone inside, sat down like he owned the place, and stared at Hua Rongyue with growing confusion. She calmly pulled out a gold ingot and tossed it to him. “Seen a girl lately?”

Once the gold changed hands, Old Lian became much more cooperative. He blinked his little eyes and said, “Songshan Sect girl? Yeah, saw her a few days ago. But if you’re trying to find her now…”

The air in the room suddenly grew heavy. Hua Rongyue felt her heart sink. The Songshan disciples exchanged uneasy looks.

“…You could probably guess without me saying,” Old Lian muttered as he bit the gold. “She ran off with a red-eyed man and has been staying over on West Street. But she hasn’t been seen in a few days. Odds are, he killed her.”

“You’re full of it!” one of the Songshan disciples shouted, unable to hold back.

“Heh. You’re not gonna like hearing it either way,” Old Lian sneered. “You guys must be her senior brothers. Even if you drag her back, she’ll be a burden. Looks like she was head-over-heels for the guy. If you ask me, let her go. Pretend she’s dead — save yourselves the trouble.”

After that, he gave them a nasty smirk. The disciples fell completely silent, as if their throats had been seized.

All eyes drifted to Fangcunj i, watching his reaction.

Hua Rongyue also looked at him, puzzled by the sudden focus.

Fangcunj i slowly opened his eyes and asked, “What are the chances she’s still alive?”

“No idea how high. But I’ve seen other women run off with their lovers before. Not one of them lived past ten days,” Old Lian replied. “You might as well prepare the coffin now.”

Hua Rongyue’s heart grew heavy. If even an experienced informant said that, the girl was probably already dead.

In Hua Rongyue’s eyes, the girl had paid dearly for her impulsiveness. But even so, the price seemed too steep. Hua Rongyue, a rational modern mind, believed that no matter the mistake, it was never worth more than a human life.

Naturally, the Songshan disciples deferred to Fangcunj i. After what seemed like a few seconds of contemplation, he suddenly said, “Let’s go.”

The disciples hesitated, then rose to follow — dazed and unsure.

“Wait,” Hua Rongyue stopped them. “Where are you going?”

She was confused — shouldn’t they at least ask for more specifics? Even just to retrieve the body?

The short disciple gave her a wink, gesturing for her to let it go. Though she had a very bad feeling, this wasn’t her turf. So she kept quiet and followed them out.

Once they were clear of Old Lian’s turf, Fangcunj i turned to Hua Rongyue. “We’ve troubled you enough today. You may return now.”

“…What about your junior sister?” Hua Rongyue asked, bewildered.

Before she could say more, she felt someone tug on her. It was Wu Ci — half-dragging her away as he nodded politely to the others.

“Wait,” Hua Rongyue asked, “where are they going?”

“Probably… heading back,” Wu Ci replied. He was still stunned he’d had the guts to pull her away. But he felt he had to — it didn’t feel right leaving her there.

He couldn’t believe Hua Rongyue hadn’t realized what was happening — the Songshan Sect had basically abandoned their junior sister. Maybe, as Old Lian implied, they were cleaning house. And honestly, in today’s world, that wasn’t unusual. It was an unspoken rule among the major sects.

The Songshan Sect had been struggling in recent years. Fangcunj i was known for being loyal to the sect above all else. He likely received orders: if she was still alive, bring her back. But if she was dead — don’t make waves.

Wu Ci wanted to explain clearly, but this sort of thing was hard to say aloud — even though everyone knew it. He stared at Hua Rongyue, wondering why it felt so hard to say it today.

She looked at his expression and felt her heart sink even further. She had suspected it already — but hadn’t wanted to believe it.

As Wu Ci guessed, turning around was the “reasonable” option. Staying meant dealing with messy aftermath — and she couldn’t bring anyone back from the dead.

Besides, this wasn’t her problem. She was only here because Six Doors had asked for help. She could’ve turned around and walked away.

But something in her felt stifled.

She turned and walked off. Wu Ci jumped and asked where she was going. She said, “West Street.”

West Street — the place Old Lian had mentioned.

“You’re going to West Street?” Wu Ci cried. “Don’t go! Everyone knows what’s happening — just let it be!”

“You must be crazy to go now!”

…

As soon as he said that, he froze. Hua Rongyue also paused and looked back at him.

They stared at each other in silence for a few seconds. Wu Ci suddenly realized — he’d said the wrong thing.

But Hua Rongyue didn’t argue. She just turned and walked away.

Wu Ci stood there, stunned.

Hua Rongyue walked onward, heading straight for West Street.

She thought — if there’s even a chance, even the slightest chance, that girl might still be saved…