Little Pink Starfish

Gao Ling was reading the online discussions. In fact, before this storyline was drawn into the comic, her thoughts on it had been something like this—

When Yuan killed that demon, he didn’t reveal the truth. Most likely, he wanted to continue hiding his identity as an undercover agent. Back then, watching Yuan in that state, Gao Ling had actually felt quite sorry for him. It was clearly something that caused deep grievance—just speaking up would have been a relief. But instead, he bore it in silence.

And now? Now that Yuan had seen the comic, how would he feel?

Gao Ling had always doubted whether Yuan even read the comic. After all, he gave off that “old man” vibe—his style didn’t really match the tone of comics… But then again, thinking it through more carefully, Gao Ling figured he probably did read it.

He was a spy, after all. Comics were the most reliable source of firsthand intel. How could he not read them? It was too simple a deduction to overlook.

Gao Ling felt a bit regretful. She had this sudden urge to see Yuan’s reaction… but then remembered he’d been missing for a long time now, and hadn’t appeared in the comic for ages. It seemed like she wouldn’t be able to see him anymore.

Just as she thought that, she suddenly realized—wait a second. Who said Yuan wasn’t around? He was!

The woman in red!

The woman in red was Yuan!

Gao Ling suddenly felt like she’d gone momentarily brain-dead. She smacked herself on the head with her fist, wanting to observe the woman in red’s reaction—but then remembered, that person was a “dragon who shows the head but not the tail.” Even if she did appear, her face was never shown. So getting anything from her would be difficult.

So now it was basically impossible to see her response… and she might not even mention the matter at all. Gao Ling was disappointed.

The whole story had started fermenting in this very misleading direction. Most people now believed this version: Yuan and the Mirror Demon were close friends who had devised a plan together—Yuan would play the role of a perfect double agent, kill the Mirror Demon, and gain the trust of the Mask Organization.

The Mirror Demon had a high status. Only by killing someone like him would the organization fully trust Yuan. The plan had its difficulties—first, whether the Mirror Demon would agree to be killed; second, whether Yuan could bring himself to do it.

From the looks of things, both parties had executed their parts flawlessly.

And it was hard to say who had it worse. If Yuan was truly heartless, then maybe it would’ve been easier. But he cried in the end—and that scene was drawn into the comic and seen by everyone. It showed that he did care, deeply.

Yuan’s image in the public eye had never been that of a traitor. His “redemption arc” had been wildly successful. So most people felt this event had caused him tremendous emotional damage.

Yuan Yuanyuan looked at the comic, thinking: even though the plot didn’t exactly match real life, it was weird how closely it did match… Her one and only feeling toward the Mirror Demon was simple—annoying. Deeply annoying.

But… if it had been Seventeen, wouldn’t he have been devastated? Yuan Yuanyuan thought for a moment and figured, yeah, that’s probably how it would’ve gone. He definitely would’ve cried.

Thinking of that, Yuan Yuanyuan suddenly felt a lot better.

While the comic was heating up in popularity, the live-action casting process was also in full swing. Most major characters had already been locked in, and Yuan’s casting was up next.

Several characters in the comic were poised to blow up in popularity—especially those with tragic pasts, dramatic twists, and a healthy dose of melodrama… characters who were practically born to draw tears.

Among all of them, the one that fit this mold the best was Yuan.

So it wasn’t hard to guess how in-demand the role of Yuan was at the moment.

Eventually, word got out. Yuan Yuanyuan checked the site and saw that the actor chosen was a currently popular heartthrob. Once his casting was confirmed, the internet naturally exploded, but the overall response was pretty positive—better than average for sure.

It helped that this actor had originally risen to fame on looks alone, but later gained widespread recognition through a serious drama, proving he had actual acting chops. So general public sentiment toward him was quite favorable.

When Gao Ling saw who it was, she even let out a little whistle… thinking: Damn, they actually went all out. Looks like the production crew is taking this project seriously.

Apparently, costume fitting photos were being finalized. Gao Ling took a glance and went quiet for a moment.

Uh… why did it feel so off?

She stared at the screen in silence amid the online frenzy—checking the photo back and forth—and couldn’t quite put her finger on it. Something just felt strange…

Oh well, forget it. She swallowed her critique and moved on.

Yuan Yuanyuan had seen the costume photo too. Unlike Gao Ling, she didn’t feel any complicated emotions at first glance—after all, she didn’t often look at her own face in the mirror.

She just thought it was kind of cool. The actor’s face and the one she’d originally envisioned were quite different, but with makeup, it somehow ended up resembling her own a lot. The makeup artist must’ve been a wizard.

The clothes… black top and pants, same style. Looked pretty close. Yuan Yuanyuan stared blankly, kind of amused by the whole circus.

There was even some buzz in the demon world. Someone asked: why cast a human to play a demon?

Eventually, all the ruckus was silenced.

Rumor had it that one major elder, a firm believer that demons shouldn’t be portrayed by humans, woke up one morning to find a note by his bed. The note basically told him to shut up and stop stirring trouble. It was signed: Ji Qiu.

No one knew when the note had been placed there. But from then on, the issue was dropped.

Meanwhile, the human side kept blissfully enjoying the drama—fan wars, ship wars, daily arguments. Completely unaware of the mess behind the scenes…

Yuan Yuanyuan, dressed in her usual black outfit, went out for a stroll. This was her standard gear.

She hadn’t gone out as Yuan in ages—after all, that identity was still a bit problematic. But today, on a whim, she decided to go out for fun. Maybe she’d spook a few clueless kids.

Based on her past experience, even if someone did spot her, no word would get out. Last time she was seen, not a single rumor spread.

Because these days, “I saw Yuan” claims popped up five or six times a month, always from different locations—and every time, they turned out to be fake.

It was the classic “Boy Who Cried Wolf.” Today, Yuan Yuanyuan wore her black outfit as usual, without a hat, and strolled down the street with swagger. Deep down, she was secretly hoping someone would notice her. Maybe she could freak someone out and they’d go gossip about it later—just like how she loved to gossip about others… Ah, what a satisfying thought.

With that in mind, Yuan Yuanyuan cheerfully walked down the street… and just happened to brush shoulders with someone wearing the exact same black outfit.

Huh?

…

Yuan Yuanyuan turned to look, dazed for a second. Huh?

This guy… why was he dressed exactly like her?

Same clothes, same pants, same shoes…

Yuan Yuanyuan had bought this outfit years ago from a random little bargain shop. She’d been wearing it for so long it had started to pill. In all her years of walking around, she’d never seen another one like it—probably a one-off handmade by the shop owner.

But now, here was a stranger in the exact same outfit. Except his fabric was clearly better, and the tailoring had been improved to fit him better.

Before she could even process the shock, the guy had disappeared from view. She kept walking, still confused, and two minutes later… she saw another person in the exact same outfit.

…This time, Yuan Yuanyuan really realized something was off. She looked up—the guy was just a regular human, not a demon or anything. How could she run into two people in the same clothes within two minutes? Unless this outfit had… become a viral Taobao item?

She looked up again and saw the man notice her outfit too. He immediately walked over. “Hey, do you know which way the anime convention is?”

“…No, no idea.” Yuan Yuanyuan looked lost.

“Then let’s go together,” the guy said cheerfully, walking beside her. Yuan Yuanyuan had no time to react before she was following him. Only after a few steps did she snap out of it and think, What the heck am I doing…

“Where are you guys headed?” she asked. She had a vague guess—it was probably cosplay. But something felt different… Earlier, Yuan cosplays had that obvious anime-style plastic feel, which made them easy to distinguish from her. But this guy’s outfit looked just like hers—something you’d wear daily.

Maybe because… the TV show had launched, so cosplays started modeling after the drama version? And the TV costume did look a lot like hers.

“Man, I wanted to look cool today, but now this outfit’s everywhere—I’ve already seen a bunch of people wearing the same thing,” the guy complained. “If I’d known, I wouldn’t have worn this… There might be like a dozen Yuans walking around the con. There’s even a stage play for Demon Chronicles today.”

Yuan Yuanyuan walked quietly beside him—she was a head taller than the guy.

“Where’d you buy that outfit? The material looks kind of cheap,” he said. “Look, it’s already pilling.”

Yuan Yuanyuan turned slightly, looked down at the guy with a blank face.

Pilling didn’t necessarily mean the fabric was cheap. Even low-quality clothes looked new when first bought.

It’s only after wearing them for a long time… that they pill.