Little Pink Starfish

Yuan Yuanyuan glanced at the crowd forming outside the door and sighed with inexplicable stomach pain.

Honestly… there were a lot of big shots in this room—definitely more than just one or two. Yuan Yuanyuan herself was also one of them, technically speaking. But the thing with big shots was that they rarely showed their faces. So after all the searching in this building…

Yuan Yuanyuan had unexpectedly become one of the most noticeable people around.

In this situation, even a background character like her—who only had a named cameo in the comic and had been steadily losing relevance—was now drawing all this attention… all because she’d had a name in the manga.

Her eyes kept darting sideways. She figured the real big shots hiding nearby were probably thinking, “When the mountain has no tigers, the monkey becomes king.” Why did she feel so annoyed? Was she imagining things?

She swept a look across the room, then suddenly stood up and bolted toward the hallway. But halfway there—of course—someone intercepted her. She was blocked mid-sprint, caught in the act.

“Excuse me… are you the ‘Hongxiu’ from the comic?” The person who stopped her was the same one who had greeted her earlier. Yuan Yuanyuan didn’t feel nervous—in fact, it felt more like, “Ah, here we go.” She nodded and replied, “Yes, I’m that Hongxiu.”

“Oh!” The person gave a vaguely meaningful exclamation. Yuan Yuanyuan could immediately feel their attitude turn much warmer. “We really didn’t expect you to come in person… what a surprise.”

Do you even know who I am? she thought. Or did you just flip through the manga, find the name ‘Hongxiu,’ and rush over here? After all, Hongxiu wasn’t exactly a famous character. But still, seeing a “real-life” person from the comic show up on set was like watching a biography come to life. It wasn’t quite like meeting a celebrity—it had its own kind of thrill.

Regardless of how minor she’d been, everyone now seemed genuinely excited to see her.

Yuan Yuanyuan led a group of demons to the makeup room to demonstrate proper makeup techniques for the actors. The talk about the original makeup artists being fired was, of course, just nonsense—they were only here to give a few demos.

They first applied their usual “work face” makeup. Someone asked curiously, “So… we’re just here to get our makeup done and be stared at?”

“That’s what I heard too… Honestly, why not just come to our shop to look? Why bring us here instead? Right, Yuan Yuan-jie?”

“Shh. Outside, don’t call me Yuan Yuan-jie—call me Hongxiu,” Yuan Yuanyuan said while fixing her hair. “I don’t want them knowing my real name.”

“Eh? Hongxiu-jie, how come I didn’t know you were in Demon Registry?” a newly arrived young demon asked excitedly. “When did you show up?”

Yuan Yuanyuan groaned internally. See? This is the usual reaction… most people don’t even remember Hongxiu. One of the older staff explained, “Our tavern appeared in Demon Registry a while back. Quite a few of us showed up, and Hongxiu-jie was one of the more recognizable ones.”

“Excuse me, are you ready?” A knock came at the door. Yuan Yuanyuan quickly smoothed her skirt, stood up, slipped on her shoes, and glanced around the room. She gestured for everyone to sit properly and called out, “Ready.”

A few people entered the room, and Yuan Yuanyuan froze on the spot—some of the main cast had arrived. She had a reflexive habit of shrinking into herself whenever she appeared as her real self, probably due to long-standing muscle memory. So the moment she saw who came in, she couldn’t help but get nervous.

Among them were Fa Ning, Yuan, Yuan Yingli, and the red-clothed woman. The actress playing the red-clothed woman was apparently somewhat famous. Up until now, her identity had been a secret.

Most people had assumed they’d just use a silhouette or a stand-in for the red-clothed woman. Yet here she was—memorizing her lines with total focus. Clearly, she was taking the role seriously.

Yuan Yuanyuan suddenly felt a bit guilty. Here was an actress with genuine dedication, and she was about to face… that kind of “surprise.” Would she come out of it with psychological trauma?

Still… maybe they’d end up using two different actors for the red-clothed woman and Yuan?

While Yuan Yuanyuan’s thoughts wandered, the human manager began introducing the room full of demons to the actors. “These are special training staff brought in by the production. They’re here to help with some of the issues we’ve had and to assist with guidance.”

The demons all turned to look at the newcomers. Dozens of demon gazes locked onto the actors. Though all in costume, the sheer pressure they gave off wasn’t something ordinary humans could handle.

The actors, who’d been griping about the need for “special training,” immediately clammed up. Not a peep.

“There’s a fight scene this afternoon,” the manager said, handing Yuan Yuanyuan a notebook. Despite her salty soul, she’d gotten used to playing the big boss by now.

She took the notebook with an air of authority. It outlined a scene of humans vs. demons, with some specific choreography needed—including a few signature moves.

Wait a second, she thought. Could it be they started getting nervous and second-guessed everything? Since they’re on C City turf, maybe they figured it was safer to bring in local “consultants”?

Relations between humans and demons weren’t exactly great these days. Otherwise, they wouldn’t have come all the way to a tavern like theirs to recruit models. The tavern had always been… something of a chaotic neutral zone.

Yuan Yuanyuan started assigning demons to the actors. The production seemed surprisingly strict—their goal was to replicate demon techniques as authentically as possible, ideally indistinguishable from the real thing. They claimed it would add realism and impact.

And sure, they’d get realism. But the truth was… most real spells relied on incantations. As for “impact”—well, Yuan Yuanyuan wasn’t about to burst their bubble.

She assigned the trickster-type demons to train the actor playing Yuan Yingli. That guy never stopped bragging in the tavern about all the warriors and close calls he’d seen…

When it came time to assign someone to Yuan’s actor, Yuan Yuanyuan hesitated. She felt a strange knot inside her—hard to describe. Technically, she could’ve handed him off to someone else. But when she wrote down the name, her hand paused, then… assigned him to herself.

After the assignments were done, everyone found a spot and began one-on-one coaching. Yuan Yuanyuan caught sight of the fox spirit paired with the actor playing Yuan Yingli—yeah, the one who’d been caught flirting on set. She cleared her throat and warned them to tone it down. If rumors of anything “beep—beep—during filming” got out, they’d be in trouble.

“Um, can I ask something?” someone nearby whispered. A crew member approached the demon assigned to Fa Ning. “Could you… teach us something more authentic? Like a real incantation Fa Ning would have used? His opening stance or… whatever?”

Every demon in the room heard that. Even without looking, Yuan Yuanyuan could sense the collective wave of internal screaming.

“This is too much to ask…”

“Right? How are we supposed to know what a human sorcerer studied?”

“Haven’t you always bragged about how many sorcerers you’ve seen?”

“I think what he meant is—maybe Fa Ning’s spell was invented by a demon, so we might be able to guess the movement… but I’ve never seen it. How am I supposed to replicate that?”

“So what do we do?”

“Wing it, I guess. Where’s my sketchbook? I need to draw this out…”

Meanwhile, Yuan Yuanyuan calmly faced the actor playing Yuan. Her tone was peaceful. “Okay, first raise your arm like this, then swing it back around… then step out this way.”

Behind her, the demons were grumbling. But the actor in front of her remained surprisingly calm.

“I think the comic didn’t show it quite like that,” he said. “Wasn’t it the left arm?”

“Oh, that? Well…” Yuan Yuanyuan paused for a second. “Not necessarily. Even demons don’t have strict rules about left or right. Yuan probably just favored his left—it’s a habit Ji Qiu gave him. You seem like a righty though…”

“I’m pretty sure I’m left-handed,” the actor smiled. “Shouldn’t we stick to the original, or fans might roast us?”

“…Good point,” Yuan Yuanyuan said. “Even though I don’t think this kind of detail matters too much.” She kept coaching him, slowly moving through the sequence.

“No, please be strict with me.”

“It’s not about being strict,” she sighed. Mainly, some of the later moves are kind of complicated. I just thought you’d learn faster with your dominant hand.

By the end of the day—amid chaos and endless behind-the-scenes grumbling—this actor had already mastered the entire sequence of fight choreography needed for the afternoon shoot.

As he drew an arc on the ground with his foot, everyone in the room turned to look. The once noisy space gradually fell into silence.

“Hongxiu-jie… how do you know all this?” a young demon tugged on Yuan Yuanyuan’s sleeve and whispered.

Yuan Yuanyuan replied with a vague “Ah,” and flipped through the manga in her hands.

“Same as you guys,” she said, deadpan. “Just winging it with the comic.”