Little Pink Starfish

The Writer and the Cat

Ever since that incident, Yuan Yuanyuan had become more cautious during meetings, always alert for another ambush.

If she could infiltrate the enemy as a spy, then naturally, the enemy could do the same to them. It was only fair—like that mirror demon from earlier. A game of spies on both sides.

With the sudden rise of the red-clothed woman’s popularity, few had noticed that Yuan’s appearances in the comic were quietly decreasing. This transition had been executed with barely a ripple. Given how sparse Yuan’s scenes had been lately, no one had picked up on it—yet.

Yuan Yuanyuan suspected it was all deliberate foreshadowing. Since the red-clothed woman’s scenes were increasing, Yuan’s had to decrease. After all, they were the same person. One person couldn’t appear in two places at once. The comic’s creator had clearly thought this through.

One day, Yuan Yuanyuan went online and visited her usual website—a place filled with Yuan-related fanworks. Though the updates had slowed recently and some of the top creators had seemingly disappeared, the number of followers continued to climb, to a degree that puzzled her.

What baffled her even more was that the content was increasingly divergent from canon. The site had become a wild party of alternate universe fanworks, yet still drew massive crowds. She began to question what these kids were even looking for.

She clicked on a comic update—one about Yuan. The writing wasn’t great, but still, she found herself absorbed.

“Fanfiction quality’s been dropping lately…” said Fat Cat. “Everyone’s out of ideas or something.”

—If Gao Ling were here, she’d have argued that it wasn’t that people lacked creativity—it was that the ideas were too creative to post publicly. These days, the wildest stuff had to be shared in private.

Yuan Yuanyuan felt the same. Everything looked cute on the surface, but something was missing… a certain spark she couldn’t quite name.

While she was pondering that, Fat Cat suddenly waddled over and placed his chubby paw on the keyboard, mashing four or five keys at once.

“Wait, what are you doing?” she asked, looking down.

“I want to write one myself,” Fat Cat said.

“Oh.” Yuan Yuanyuan nodded—then did a double take. “Wait, WHAT?”

She stared at him in horror. “What exactly do you want to write?”

“Fanfiction, of course,” Fat Cat said. “But how much of it’s made up… well, we’ll see.”

“Hold on!” she grabbed Fat Cat off the keyboard and stared at him suspiciously. “What exactly are you planning?”

“Not sure yet,” Fat Cat said. He paused thoughtfully. “How about starting with the feud between Yuan and the head of the Li family?”

…

“Wait, wait—you dictate,” Yuan Yuanyuan said. “Your paws are too clumsy. I’ll type. I’m faster anyway.”

…

And so, a girl and a cat huddled over the screen, and after two solid hours of effort, they managed to crank out a 3,000-word story. After proofreading it multiple times and feeling like literary geniuses, they proudly posted it online.

Meanwhile, Gao Ling and the forum group were still obsessing over the mysterious red-clothed woman in the comic. The more off-limits a topic was, the more people wanted to talk about it. Speculations about the woman’s appearance were everywhere, and one version had become especially famous—a fan artist’s take.

That version showed the red-clothed woman wearing a red veil, revealing only a pair of large, watery eyes—full of words unsaid. Though no full face was shown, the half-covered look perfectly fit her mystique. It quickly became the most circulated image of her in the absence of an official reveal.

Normally, Gao Ling would have joined the hype. But this time, she stayed out of the public eye.

…Not because she didn’t care—she just couldn’t immerse herself in the fantasy.

That said, Gao Ling did draw a few pieces—she just kept them private, posting them only in her group chat. Her drawings never showed the face, just the figure—a slightly slim man with long black hair covering one side of his face, making it impossible to identify him.

It was a rare moment of inspiration for her. She felt it was her most inspired drawing to date. Everyone in the group was awed—stunned by the beauty and disappointed that it couldn’t be shared publicly.

But she didn’t mind. What she enjoyed most was the process of drawing. She felt incredibly satisfied afterward.

Lately, the site had seen a huge influx of new users—far more than just the core members of her group. As the site’s fame grew, people flocked in droves to check out the variety of fanfiction.

Gao Ling, realizing she couldn’t manage alone, had recruited several more moderators. More people meant more trouble—some nasty comments too. She had once asked “Cat-sama” and “Circle Circle Circle” to help moderate, but they’d never responded. She figured they either hadn’t seen the message or just weren’t interested.

Then one day, while cleaning up the forum, she stumbled upon a bizarre new post. Rubbing her eyes, she stared at it again and again.

【The Love and Hate Between Yuan and the Li Family Patriarch】

Just reading the title gave her tabloid vibes. Still, she clicked in.

Despite the awful formatting, she pushed through—partly out of morbid curiosity. Around the 300-word mark, she blurted out a “What the—” and by halfway through, she was speechless.

She shared the post in the group chat. Everyone who clicked it looked horrified:

【Who wrote this?!】
【This thing is toxic!】
【Hold on! Just hold on!】 Gao Ling urged them. 【Get past the first 300 words! It’s painful at first, but after that, there’s… a weird kind of pleasure.】

【I can’t take it. It’s horrible.】
【Let me try…】
【…Huh?】

Some actually made it through. After reading, they asked:

【Who the heck wrote this? The writing’s garbage, the plot’s wild… but it’s weirdly addictive.】

【It’s like a kids’ cartoon style married to a Battle Royale plotline. It’s like eating chocolate-flavored poop or poop-flavored chocolate—can’t decide.】

—Meanwhile, back at home, Fat Cat and Yuan Yuanyuan were running around the room in circles, gleefully celebrating their literary debut.

“I think the part where the Li patriarch meets Yuan again was especially well-written. Super real,” Yuan Yuanyuan said.

“Haha, you think? Your part about him tricking Yuan into falling into the Red Sand Well was awesome too,” Fat Cat replied.

“Nah, your writing’s way better.”

“Oh, stop it. We’re close now—no need to be so modest.”

…

【This whole situation is kinda complicated,】 Gao Ling said. 【I think this might be real… because the post was made by ‘Cat-sama’ and ‘Circle Circle Circle’.】

【Huh?! No way!】 The group exploded.
【So the Li family patriarch was actually close friends with Yuan?!】
【And even his brother and Yuan’s sister got backstabbed?!】
【That brutal?! What’s their relationship now?】
【Has this guy even appeared in the comic yet? He doesn’t sound very trustworthy.】
【They haven’t revealed that,】 Gao Ling said. 【But I’m sure if they posted once, they’ll post again. Let’s keep an eye out. Everyone who’s still online, go leave them some nice comments—encourage them to write more.】

They discussed how to subtly extract more info from the authors—unaware that the two writers were total lunatics… flying by the seat of their pants, often without even using their brains.

Yuan Yuanyuan and Fat Cat looked at the flood of “Author-sama! Master! Master!” comments and started to get carried away. Neither had ever experienced anything like this. It was a genuine first.

Utterly unaware of the weight of what they’d done, they got swept up in the excitement. Fueled by praise, they churned out another 3,000 words and posted it before dinner.

Gao Ling had been planning to slowly draw them out, but then—bam!—a new post appeared that evening. She clicked in and froze.

【What if the Red-Clothed Woman… was a man?】

…Gao Ling: “?!!”

She sat in her chair, dazed. We didn’t leak any info… right? I mean, I’m trustworthy… right? Oh god. Did I accidentally leak it? I’m a traitor. A disgrace to history…

Members of the group soon noticed the post too and messaged her privately:

【Which idiot from the group did this? Tell them to delete it ASAP!】

【No… it wasn’t anyone here,】 Gao Ling replied, finally snapping out of it. She clicked into the post again and was immediately smacked in the face by that same trashy writing style.

And yet…

“Hmm?” she murmured.

Despite how awful it was…

…it was… kind of compelling.