Little Pink Starfish

It wasn’t until Yuan Yuanyuan got home that she belatedly realized… wait, had she just been flirted with?

You couldn’t blame her for being slow on the uptake—she was a girl, and being flirted with by another woman had thrown her completely off. It wasn’t until she was back in her own bed that it finally clicked.

After she pieced it together, she started quietly marveling at how close the boss lady and Seventeen seemed… and then suddenly felt like Seventeen had just been—cheated on?

…Wait, why was she starting to feel guilty?

Yuan Yuanyuan lay on her bed, staring at the ceiling, thoughts spiraling. The fat cat jumped up beside her, but she immediately shoved it off and tossed it onto the couch. It landed headfirst and flailed its little legs.

Damn it, even the cat’s trying to take advantage of me now.

The cat let out a series of howls at the door, scratching furiously in protest. It sounded like it was coughing between howls. At first, Yuan Yuanyuan thought it was just being dramatic, but the more she listened, the more she realized something wasn’t right. She hurried to open the door and scoop the cat back inside.

As soon as it got in, the fat cat curled up on the bed, shivering. Yuan Yuanyuan touched it—it was ice cold.

“Holy crap, are you okay?” She panicked. Just yesterday it had been totally fine. How did it get like this overnight?

“Cold snap,” the cat said.

Yuan Yuanyuan looked outside. The leaves had turned yellow without her even noticing. It was already deep autumn, and the temperature had dropped fast—from scorching hot to freezing almost overnight.

She turned back to the cat, quietly pulled out last year’s hot water bottle, filled it, and gave it to the cat to hug. Then she went to sleep on the couch.

The fat cat always got sick in weird ways. Yuan Yuanyuan had long since accepted that a little sickness gave it character—like, what’s a cat without a bit of melancholy? But deep down, she was scared it might randomly die again one day.

Cats had nine lives, sure, but who knew how many this one had left?

Because she was so worried about the fat cat, Yuan Yuanyuan ended up spending the next few days closely monitoring its condition—completely forgetting about the chaos going on outside.

Even though she forgot, others didn’t. And for some people, it wasn’t just a thunderbolt out of the blue—it was like their whole world had collapsed.

Take Gao Ling, for example.

Just a few days ago, she’d been buying up magazines like crazy to vote for Yuan. But after hearing this shocking news about the live-action series, she suddenly lost all motivation. She didn’t even want to buy magazines anymore—just stared blankly at her screen every day.

The only time she showed signs of life was when there were rumors that a certain actor might play Yuan. During those moments, she’d suddenly “resurrect,” shout excitedly online, and then go quiet again.

Anyone watching would probably laugh themselves silly.

That day, Gao Ling was slumped over her desk like a lifeless fish. Someone cautiously messaged her in the group chat:

【Boss, want to draw?】
She waved them off:
【No drawing.】

What was the point? Why draw anything? Why was this even happening? Why was there a live-action version all of a sudden?

What confused Gao Ling the most was this—it was authorized by Jiuqiu himself. Was he crazy? There was already a “real-life” Yuan. Why make a live-action show?

And besides… she thought bitterly, how could they possibly capture that kind of character on screen? It just wasn’t possible. Useless.

Apparently, the casting process was public. Rumors had been floating around about this actor or that one being rejected during auditions… but that wasn’t the point.

What Gao Ling really wanted to know was—which scene did they have to act out in the audition? The moment that thought popped into her head, her brain exploded with imagination.

If it was an audition, surely they had to perform a challenging scene, right? Gao Ling thought back to the few times she’d personally seen Yuan—in the bathroom, the plaza, that time and this…

The most unforgettable one had been that bathroom scene, which actually did make it into the comic. Another was in the plaza. If she remembered right, that one was drawn too, because the demon who’d been there had passed away recently. Fa Ning had visited the site, and using a Taoist technique, glimpsed part of what had happened.

Although back then she thought the demon was a bit crazy, after his death, she still felt sad. He’d been a good demon—it was such a shame.

As for that bathroom encounter, Gao Ling hadn’t expected it to make it into the comic. Even if it did, it couldn’t truly convey the feeling she had at the time. It had been the most profound, soul-shaking moment of her life.

No exaggeration—Gao Ling believed that incident had changed how she viewed certain things.

She didn’t want anyone to know about it. Yuan had hidden in that tiny bathroom alone, coughing up blood while quietly washing up. Gao Ling figured that if he’d gone to such lengths to hide, then clearly he didn’t want anyone to know.

It was an unspoken agreement. One-sided, perhaps—but an agreement nonetheless.

Just remembering that scene made her chuckle a little. Would they really try to replicate that?

That night, Gao Ling had a dream. It was hazy, filled with long-buried memories.

In the dream, she… Gao Ling wasn’t even sure what she was thinking at the time.

But as she woke up, she suddenly realized—there was one more encounter with Yuan she’d forgotten. A moment that had left a deep impression on her.

In the dream, she saw Yuan again, heard his voice again. And when she opened her eyes, it felt like everything had just happened.

…So this is what it’s like. Gao Ling finally understood why some fans hated when their favorite comics got turned into live-action dramas. She used to think it was silly—“It’s just a show. Don’t watch it if you don’t like it.” But now… she got it.

God, just thinking about it makes me panic… Gao Ling vowed to never again laugh at her friends for overreacting to live-action news.

Maybe it was because she’d had that weird dream about something that happened months ago, but Gao Ling couldn’t shake the strange feeling she had.

In her twenty-something years of life, she’d never felt this way before. She didn’t know how to explain it to anyone.

She used to brush off dreams—even nightmares—after a few minutes. But this time… she couldn’t.

It felt like the dream hadn’t even ended yet.

She had a vague sense of foreboding. She didn’t tell anyone—didn’t dare. She was afraid saying something would make it real.

When Saturday’s issue came out, Gao Ling finally let out a breath of relief. The dream—finally—was over.

This issue of Demon Chronicles featured, for the first time, a story between Yuan and a mirror demon.

Gao Ling had always thought of this as a sort of mental knot. Yuan seemed like a good person now, but his killing of the mirror demon back then was still controversial. Fewer people mentioned it these days, but they hadn’t forgotten.

The mirror demon had shown up a few times before, always as a positive character. Jiuqiu had real skill—he was just recounting past events, but by rearranging the order or trimming the scenes, he could completely change how they felt. No wonder he had both demons and humans dancing in the palm of his hand.

Even though Gao Ling was already pretty skilled, there were some things she didn’t dare include in fanworks—like this. She was afraid demons would recognize it and come after her. She wasn’t like Jiuqiu, that enigmatic mastermind. He could kidnap an editor and vanish. She? Her ID number would be exposed in a second.

Now that the comic had officially covered it, she could finally relax. She confided in a close friend—one from a very spiritually attuned family.

After hearing her story, the friend said it was totally normal. People with strong spiritual senses sometimes had premonitions like that—she’d experienced it before too.

Gao Ling felt slightly better. She went back to reading the comic. The chapter opened with a flashback: Yuan’s past with the mirror demon.

Lately, Yuan Yingli and Fa Ning’s side mission had been to search for clues Yuan had left behind. Logically speaking, Fa Ning’s team was on the main plotline and shouldn’t be so tied to Yuan, but his presence was overwhelming. The deeper they dug, the more they found connected to him.

So “side quest” and “main quest” were now tangled together. Every lead pointed back to Yuan.

This time, Fa Ning and Yuan Yingli were delivering a report to the anti-war organization. After the visit, they were about to leave when another woman—who usually stayed near the red-dressed woman—walked them out.

This time, they exited from a different door. The anti-war group had drawn attention that day, so they couldn’t use the main entrance. They left through the back.

It was their first time using the back exit. Outside, it looked like any other alley, except for one thing: a towering, straight tree, still lush despite the season.

But what really caught their attention was the small mound of earth beneath it.

That mound…

【Yuan Yingli’s brows furrowed. He tried to act nonchalant and pointed at it. “This is…?”】
【“A grave,” the woman beside him said casually.】
【“And inside…?” Yuan Yingli swallowed.】
【The woman looked up at him with a smile.】
【“An old acquaintance.”】