Little Pink Starfish

Because of the live-action drama, Yuan Yuanyuan hadn’t slept properly for several nights. Every time she drifted off, within seconds her eyes would snap open and she’d stare at the ceiling, face twisted with dread.

Damn it, how can anyone sleep like this…?

She had one particular complaint about this whole situation: normally, wouldn’t an anime adaptation come before a live-action one? Especially since this started as a comic. But after checking the comments section, she found that most people actually understood why it was happening this way.

【These days, it’s way easier to produce a drama than an anime. If it were Japan, they’d have made an anime first.】
【Dramas can boost star power and have a broader audience. In Japan, the anime scene’s more developed, but here, TV dramas dominate. And to think our fandom is blowing up like this… who would’ve thought.】

Yeah… makes sense. Yuan Yuanyuan got it. Turning Demon Chronicles into an anime would require a massive production scale—something like the Red Army’s Long March. Way too risky. Compared to that, dramas were the safer bet.

And so, the drama production was already in full swing… Everywhere she looked online, there was news about casting, with a variety of actors being floated. It was giving Yuan Yuanyuan a stomachache.

She’d watched entertainment gossip like this for years, but now that her story was in the mix… it hit different. She couldn’t explain why it made her so nervous.

Speaking of which—were there any updates on who was playing Yuan?

She searched the news and—bam! There really were updates. Her eyes widened in disbelief—What?! That guy’s my favorite actor! If he actually plays Yuan…

Her brain short-circuited, cycling through excitement and panic. But then, just as she started to process it, a new article popped up—said the actor had officially declined the role.

Instant mood kill. Her expression went flat.

Whatever. Not reading this anymore. I’m going to bed.

Yuan Yuanyuan knew this had “Jiuqiu nonsense” written all over it. But she was helpless to stop it—could only sit back and watch as Master Jiuqiu played his games.

Still, the contrast between the life-or-death battlefield and the glitzy entertainment industry… Yuan Yuanyuan couldn’t help but laugh as she watched it unfold.

She wondered how others felt watching all this.

As for herself, well, she was a laid-back person with decent coping skills.

Yuan Yuanyuan had always thought this kind of thing was something that would happen far off in the future—but somehow, time had flown by, and the production was getting more and more legit. The crew was apparently already being assembled.

Sometimes, while hanging out with the anti-war organization, she couldn’t help but spit out her drink laughing. A bunch of members had made appearances in the comic—and if the plot didn’t change too much, they’d likely show up in the drama, too.

Right now, Yuan Yuanyuan was still playing the red-dressed woman in the tavern. Yuan Yingli and Fa Ning happened to drop by, and she sat quietly behind the curtain drinking. The two had been around her long enough to speak more freely now.

Of course, even when joking, they only ever joked between the two of them—never bringing the red-dressed woman into the conversation. Probably because she always gave off an aloof, untouchable vibe. They simply assumed she wouldn’t respond anyway.

But after spending more time with her, they found that although she was cold on the outside, her personality was surprisingly chill. She didn’t seem to take much to heart. So now, they dared to joke even in front of her, not afraid she might overhear.

—Or maybe they’d already decided that she was too cold to care what they said, so they’d stopped worrying entirely.

In reality, Yuan Yuanyuan had been listening to them the whole time—using wine as popcorn while quietly enjoying the gossip.

“Have you seen the actor they finally picked?” Yuan Yingli was almost doubled over laughing. “He looks nothing like the guy!”

“Yeah, and the guy playing me doesn’t look like me either,” Fa Ning tried to keep a straight face. He knew exactly why everyone was laughing—the actor chosen to play him was famously “ugly-sexy”—ugly, but with inexplicable charisma. At first Fa Ning had been pretty okay with it, but after hearing everyone around him laughing, he started to question everything.

Yuan Yuanyuan pricked up her ears. Then Yuan Yingli suddenly choked on his drink—and Yuan Yuanyuan nearly spit hers out too.

Because the actor chosen to play Yuan Yingli… was a famously effeminate heartthrob. Prettier than most girls. It was hilarious.

Even funnier were the comments online saying that, while the guy’s acting might be mid, his face was totally enough. This had sent Yuan Yingli into days of furious ranting.

But if Yuan Yuanyuan had to be honest, she thought… yeah, based solely on the comic, the actor did kind of match. To the public, Yuan Yingli had always come off as a bit soft and pretty. Well, as long as Si Qun wasn’t around—otherwise, he would easily take the No.1 effeminate slot.

Yuan Yuanyuan sipped her drink—and just then, she overheard the two men change the subject.

“Hey, any word on who’s playing Yuan?”

“Nope, but it’s such a hot role. No way they’ll just throw it to anyone. They’ll definitely take their time.”

The tone was annoyed—understandable, since Yuan Yingli had that loyal-dog personality. Yuan Yuanyuan didn’t think too much of it. Then Fa Ning suddenly mused, “If Yuan saw what was happening right now, he’d probably laugh and cry at the same time. After everything he’s gone through, now he’s being turned into… this.”

Yuan Yuanyuan took another sip and thought, Why does that sound so familiar? Oh right, because it already happened to me.

They drank for a while longer, then a small demon walked over and whispered something into the curtain. Yuan Yuanyuan listened quietly, gestured, and the demon respectfully retreated.

Fa Ning and Yuan Yingli stole a few glances at her. Her cool, distant demeanor always made people feel like she was on another level. Even a single gesture seemed calculated.

Sitting in the shadows behind the curtain, her appearance obscured—yet every movement had elegance and strength.

That small gesture just now—red sleeves, slender fingers, a casual wave—it looked effortless, but carried undeniable presence.

With a woman like that… of course Fa Ning and Yuan Yingli were curious. They’d tried probing before, but had always been subtly deflected.

As they stared at the curtain, Yuan Yingli suddenly asked, “So… who do you think they’ll cast to play her?”

He didn’t say the name—just “her.” Fa Ning immediately got the hint.

He thought for a moment, then realized—he couldn’t think of a single perfect match. So he went quiet. Meanwhile, Yuan Yuanyuan, still sipping her wine, finally realized they were talking about her.

She found it kind of amusing… and oddly embarrassing. Her drinking motion froze mid-air. She wasn’t sure if the two had noticed.

“Looks aren’t as important,” someone said, “but the aura’s gotta be spot on.”

“Of course! Even if her face isn’t shown, she has to feel beautiful. That kind of vibe isn’t something just anyone can pull off,” Fa Ning replied, taking another sip.

“But you two haven’t even seen her face. How do you know she’s not actually a beauty?” the boss lady chimed in from the side, teasing casually as she poured drinks.

“What, so you’re saying she is a beauty?” Fa Ning asked, eyes wide.

The boss lady stifled a laugh, then poked her head into the curtain, pretending to examine Yuan Yuanyuan from top to bottom with a serious face. Then she nodded solemnly.

Inside the curtain, Yuan Yuanyuan was both exasperated and amused. Just as she was wondering whether the two men knew she was eavesdropping and were doing this on purpose, she happened to glance at her reflection in a nearby mirror.

Sword brows, starry eyes, red robe, hair tied high.

Beautiful face, sure—but it was a man’s face.

Yuan Yuanyuan instantly deflated.

Oh crap. Totally forgot I’m still in disguise.

She sighed and put down her drink. Since she was a girl, playing a girl came naturally to her—so much so that she kept forgetting she was currently in “man mode.”

But actually, that was the advantage. If not for this disguise, she would’ve been exposed long ago. She didn’t have Seventeen’s talent for gender fluidity—she couldn’t switch roles with such ease.

Still… Yuan Yuanyuan suddenly froze. Wait a minute. Doesn’t this mess up the actor playing Yuan?

The show was being cast while the comic was still ongoing. But the comic hadn’t yet revealed that Yuan was actually the red-dressed woman in disguise.

So if they’d already shot some episodes, and then the comic dropped the bomb that Yuan was a woman… and the actor playing him was some hyper-masculine tough guy…

Yuan Yuanyuan silently took another sip.

Oh well. That’s the actor’s problem.

With zero guilt, she set the thought aside and went back to drinking. After a while, Fa Ning and Yuan Yingli left. Yuan Yuanyuan chatted a bit with the boss lady. Mid-conversation, the boss lady suddenly burst into laughter.

“What?” Yuan Yuanyuan looked confused. The laughter felt a little… off.

“Nothing, nothing…” the boss lady said between chuckles. “I just suddenly thought of something… Beauty~”

As she said it, she teasingly lifted Yuan Yuanyuan’s chin with her fan, just like a young master flirting with a noble lady.

Yuan Yuanyuan jerked back to dodge the fan. The boss lady watched her for a second, then broke into another peal of laughter, leaving Yuan Yuanyuan totally baffled.

What is wrong with this woman… seriously.