Little Pink Starfish

Yuan Yuanyuan herself wasn’t really the poetic type. She didn’t think of anything fancy like “beauty in desolation”—honestly, lately she just felt… good.

Not only was it satisfying to have the truth revealed, but her workload had suddenly been cut in half, which felt like heaven. Back when she was still with the Mask Organization, she was constantly being summoned to do miscellaneous tasks. But now, things were completely different—she drank every day, ate meat every day, and girls… well, okay, not that part. There was just one enchantingly flirtatious tavern owner.

Because she still didn’t know the internal situation of City C, she didn’t even need to go back there anymore. Days passed peacefully in the tavern, full of music and dance. Recently, for some reason, the tavern owner had brought in a bunch of beautiful girls. When they danced, it was like they were ascending to immortality, and they performed every day in the main hall.

Yuan Yuanyuan was halfway through a drink… and her eyes hadn’t left those girls once. Though she was a girl herself, she still liked looking at eye candy. These girls were just too good-looking—who knew where the boss had found them… ahem, brought them from.

“What are you looking at?” The tavern owner had silently appeared beside her and suddenly pinched a chunk of flesh from Yuan Yuanyuan’s waist and twisted it hard…

Yuan Yuanyuan’s face remained expressionless, but one thought filled her mind.

Ah… my old deskmate from school, I was wrong. I really shouldn’t have pinched you like that all those years ago… I truly repent…

The girl across from her was still dancing, and Yuan Yuanyuan thought, what does this have to do with me? If I wanted, I could transform in a flash and put on a beauty’s face too—definitely prettier than that girl. I have everything she has.

Still, even though her mind was overflowing with snark, she couldn’t let any of it show on the outside.

She rarely showed her face, but that day when she was about to leave, the tavern owner suddenly stopped her. “Is this really all you’re planning to do?”

“Hm?” Yuan Yuanyuan didn’t understand what she meant.

“Rumors are spreading outside that you’re dead,” the tavern owner said. “The public sentiment about you has been shifting. Don’t you want to lay some groundwork for your return?”

“What do you mean?”

“You’re not really planning to disappear from everyone’s view forever, are you?” The tavern owner ran her fingers through her hair. “I don’t think you’re the type to give up that easily.”

“So what if I am? So what if I’m not?” Yuan Yuanyuan replied. “I’ve made it this far already… Back when everyone was tearing me apart, no one stood up for me anyway…”

She waved her hand and turned to walk back into the tavern. This time, the tavern owner didn’t call her back.

Yuan Yuanyuan had read the latest issue of Demon Chronicles and had been holding back a particular complaint. In the comic, Fa Ning was constantly digging through demons’ memories—doing it while trembling in fear of being caught and repeatedly apologizing in his mind. What the hell’s the use of saying sorry? And if you’re in a comic, of course you’re going to be found out! What’s the point of doing something that ridiculous?

The comic was too tightly intertwined with reality, and that’s how you ended up with this kind of situation. Sometimes, things you think you’ve hidden well get completely exposed and laid bare under the sunlight—that’s a public execution. Yuan Yuanyuan had known this a long time ago, which was why she was always cautious. She’d suffered losses with the last “Qingmen Purge,” and now the mockery had even reached the demon world.

Because Yuan Yuanyuan was considered something of a big shot, a lot of gossip made its way to her ears. She had also heard about the ridicule directed at Qingmen recently, which she found deeply satisfying.

Despite the chaos out there, life still went on as usual for everyone—waking up, working, and coming home at night.

Yuan Yuanyuan stepped outside to buy some instant noodles, getting ready to welcome the return of Fat Cat. Fat Cat had called yesterday saying he really couldn’t find any leads on Yuan and was coming back to stay with her for a few days. Yuan Yuanyuan was happy—this was how it should be. Why go out looking? You wouldn’t find anything. All the information had been sealed off. The only ones who knew anything now were her and the tavern owner.

Xiaoxi didn’t know a thing about the storm brewing outside. She was just anxiously waiting for the next part of the plot to unfold. She was desperate to see what happened next, couldn’t eat or sleep, and her mom thought she was heartbroken again.

Xiaoxi was now using an entirely new online alias to talk to people online. All her previous usernames were scrapped. This one had only one purpose: to talk about Yuan.

When she chatted with people online, it felt like a secret agent rendezvous—everything was hush-hush and sneaky.

[“You know what attracts me most?”] the person she’d been chatting most with recently asked.
[“It’s that sense of vulnerability… that fragility…”]

[“Yes!” Xiaoxi practically felt like she’d found her tribe. “When I saw him coughing up blood, I felt this surge of emotion inside. He’s so different from his personality—strong and tragic… Cough, I didn’t dare say it before, and I still don’t dare tell anyone. But since you brought it up, I just have to say—this feeling is amazing…”]

And so they fangirled together over how deliciously tragic the “battle damage” aesthetic was…

For some people, once you start falling, it’s hard to stop—even if the person’s personality is hard to love. Subconsciously, the crush had already begun, and rational thought just swept it under the rug.

Xiaoxi had been like that—except she hadn’t thought about it in that way before. She even tried to deliberately avoid it.

At the core of it, it was a deeply ingrained fixed image—so strong it overrode her own feelings.

[You know, there’s this theory that Yuan was actually a cross-dressing big shot, and I swear, I could write 10,000 words on how that just adds to the elegance. Who the hell thought it was a good idea to put that in a shonen manga? I mean—]

Xiaoxi’s smile suddenly vanished.

[That setup… is just way too suitable for certain situations. Sorry, I got carried away. You still there?]

[Yeah.] Xiaoxi typed. [Something came up, I have to go. Let’s talk tomorrow.]

She shut the laptop and stormed off in irritation. What the hell? Utter nonsense. That “cross-dressing big shot” setup was just—just absurd. Completely uninteresting, clearly pandering to certain fujoshi tastes…

Xiaoxi walked toward the convenience store downstairs. Just as she arrived, she saw a girl holding a cat, chattering non-stop to it.

“I told you not to go out, but you just had to! Look how skinny you are now!” the girl scolded the cat like it could actually understand.

Xiaoxi found it funny—this girl was seriously lecturing a cat.

“Come on, pick your cat food.” The girl lifted the cat and pointed it toward a row of cat food.

“Meow—” The cat let out a long cry and kept pawing at one of the brands…

The girl then walked over to the bookshelf and pulled down the latest Demon Chronicles anthology. Xiaoxi’s eyes lit up.

“You like that manga too? Isn’t Yuan super cool?” Maybe because she didn’t recognize the girl, Xiaoxi’s closeted fan-syndrome vanished around strangers, and she struck up a conversation.

“Huh?” The girl blinked, then smiled beautifully. “It’s okay, I guess. His face is pretty…”

“I’ve been obsessed with it lately.” Xiaoxi was in full fan mode. The kind who would talk your ear off on a bus ride if she saw you reading the same thing. Since they happened to be heading in the same direction, she chatted the whole way.

The girl listened quietly. When Xiaoxi mentioned “the most beautiful desolation,” the girl suddenly asked, “Who wrote that? That’s such a powerful line.”

“My friend,” Xiaoxi said proudly. “She’s amazing.”

Though Xiaoxi always pretended not to know her friend in public, she was more than happy to brag to strangers.

“I really do think that ‘most beautiful desolation’ line is great,” the girl said. The cat in her arms looked at Xiaoxi with its flat face, and for some reason, that stare made Xiaoxi feel uneasy. She was a little scared of that cat.

“To stay true to yourself, not be swayed by the outside world—that’s tough. Even tougher without any interference. So in that sense, Seventeen really is amazing,” the girl said. “But saying Yuan has nothing at all… isn’t that a bit much?”

“What do you mean?” Xiaoxi suddenly got defensive. “He does have nothing! Where’s the lie? He has nothing! Clearly—”

“No, I just meant…” The girl gave an exasperated smile. “Never mind. This is so weird. Why are we arguing about this in the middle of the street? So embarrassing…”

The cat in her arms suddenly meowed, then wouldn’t stop meowing the whole way.

As they neared the entrance to the apartment complex, the girl switched to less intense topics. The two of them had a lot in common. But Xiaoxi still sensed something off—especially when it came to Yuan.

Whenever they talked about him, the girl’s perspective was different. Other fans always started from a “villain redemption” angle, excited and thrilled. But this girl’s reactions were more like, “Ah, it’s fine,” or “He’s okay,” without much emotion.

She also clearly rejected some of the things Xiaoxi said—like when Xiaoxi mentioned how much Yuan must have endured hearing others insult him, the girl’s facial expression was telling.

That strange feeling stuck with Xiaoxi, though she couldn’t quite place why.

As they said goodbye at the apartment entrance, Xiaoxi felt like the conversation had ended too soon. She hadn’t said everything she wanted to. She had no one else in real life she could talk to about this, so it felt so frustrating. And now, after finally meeting someone she could talk to, she didn’t want to stop.

Just before parting, the girl said, “That ‘most beautiful desolation’ line… it’s great. But I think it’s too sad. No need to go that far.”

“Why?” Xiaoxi asked.

“Because… what if he doesn’t think it’s beautiful? Or desolate?” the girl replied. “Beauty and desolation are things defined by others, seen through others’ eyes.”

“A lot of times, only outsiders find something beautiful. The person involved might not be thinking about it at all… From that angle, don’t you think the line kind of falls apart? But… I like that kind of stuff too. I used to love tragic beauty in comics. But with Yuan… I just can’t relate.”

Xiaoxi was stunned.

The girl waved and went upstairs with the cat, leaving Xiaoxi standing alone.

Xiaoxi thought for a moment, then shook her head. How could you not relate? He’s the ultimate tragic beauty—how could you not?

Yuan can’t possibly not be tragic…

But Yuan Yuanyuan really didn’t think Yuan was tragic.

Seventeen, though—she was tragic.

Yuan Yuanyuan carried Fat Cat upstairs and said, dumbfounded, “Holy crap, that was mortifying… I’ve heard of people being forced to confess, but this was the first time I’ve been forced to admit I’m tragic.”

She looked down at Fat Cat and was startled—Fat Cat’s eyes were brimming with tears.

“You’re totally tragic! You heartless woman…” Fat Cat sobbed.

Yuan Yuanyuan felt uneasy. Very quickly, she realized—it wasn’t just a few people who thought she was tragic. Everyone thought she was.

And once everyone thinks you’re tragic, a certain strange effect sets in.

You start getting treated like a terminal case.

When the Sunday edition was published, online chatter exploded across the country at a frightening pace.

And when Yuan Yuanyuan, long absent, transformed into Yuan and appeared before a demon again, the look in their eyes filled her with a vague sense of dread…