Little Pink Starfish

Li Zixin was feeling a little uneasy. Earlier, someone downstairs had tried to stop him from coming up, but he forced his way through. He’d expected to find a bunch of women upstairs—but there was only one person. A man.

He sat behind a curtain, face obscured. Yet Li Zixin instinctively went quiet and waited for the man behind the curtain to speak. He didn’t even understand why he was behaving so calmly.

Others had followed Li Zixin upstairs. They’d rushed up after him, looking aggressive at first, but the moment they saw the man behind the curtain, all that momentum evaporated.

No one expected the upper floor to contain just one man. And definitely not a man who was neither a guest nor a brothel keeper.

The man behind the curtain looked at them for a while, seemingly confused why they had barged in as a group. Li Zixin took a deep breath. Honestly, at this point, he figured he had probably come to the wrong place. He said to the man, “Sorry, we’ll be leaving now.”

“Wait,” the man behind the curtain spoke. His voice was very distinctive—soft, almost androgynous. Li Zixin froze at the sound, momentarily thinking he was hearing a woman.

It was gentle, but with a subtle undercurrent—like a rattlesnake slithering across his heart.

That voice, paired with an obviously masculine silhouette, gave Li Zixin an eerie feeling—something dangerously hard to define.

Even though he’d seen many strange things in his life, this still left him momentarily stunned. He weakly repeated, “We’re looking… for Yi Linglong. The one who appeared on the Qinhuai River a few days ago.”

—

Behind the curtain, Hua Rongyue was filled with mixed emotions. Not just because she suddenly remembered that story about someone calling to find their own phone, but because she was genuinely annoyed. She still believed someone from Six Doors had stabbed her on purpose.

Still, she couldn’t bring herself to be harsh with Li Zixin. Something told her he wasn’t involved. After all, who else would dumbly hold up a sword like that in front of her? So she turned her head and said, “If you’re looking for that person, you should go back.”

“Why?” Li Zixin pressed. “Do you know where he is?”

“He’s probably no longer on the Qinhuai River,” Hua Rongyue lied. Of course she wasn’t using her usual voice, opting instead for her natural tone.

“How do you know?” Li Zixin kept pushing.

“Some information can’t be shared,” Hua Rongyue replied. “But if you don’t believe me, you’re welcome to keep looking.”

She really didn’t want to see anyone from Six Doors. Let alone figure out how to face them again. Just thinking about how they were likely scouring the streets for her made her mood worse. All she wanted now was to get Li Zixin out of here quickly.

But that meant she probably couldn’t return to Baicaotang… Hua Rongyue felt a bit lost. This was the first place she had ever wanted to stay.

When Li Zixin saw the man had turned his head and clearly didn’t want to talk anymore, the maid seized the opportunity and promptly kicked them all out. Standing outside, Li Zixin felt dazed.

It was like he had barged into the wrong place, met some strange man… and then got thrown out again?

Maybe because the whole thing had been so unexpected, the one thing Li Zixin remembered most vividly was that man. Hidden behind a thick curtain, with a strangely feminine, yet warm voice. Maybe that’s why he had talked so long with him.

Still, the words “Yi Linglong is no longer on the Qinhuai River” stuck with him. If not here—then where?

After the encounter, Hua Rongyue felt rattled and asked the maid if she could go out for a walk. The maid immediately brought her a lightweight outfit and a bamboo hat, made sure her wounds were okay, and reminded her to come back before dark for her medicine.

On the flower boats, there were always small boats for coming and going. A boatwoman rowed Hua Rongyue out. The boat was well-equipped, stocked with everything from snacks to medicine.

As the boat floated out farther, Hua Rongyue sat on board, still trying to process.

Wait—so I’m not under house arrest?

After being stuck indoors for two days, this was a huge realization.

But then again… why did she assume she was being confined? Still, if she wasn’t being locked up, why had they brought her back here in the first place?

She trailed her fingers across the river’s surface, making ripple after ripple.

As the boat drifted, Hua Rongyue suddenly saw people from Six Doors. She instinctively asked the boatwoman to steer away. Only then did she realize the entire Qinhuai River was crawling with Six Doors agents, layered three rows deep—just as many as when they had stormed the river after the Blood Massacre in her past life.

Apparently, Yi—

After passing a few familiar faces, Hua Rongyue noticed they weren’t armed. Their expressions also seemed odd—subdued. She paused for a moment in surprise.

A tiny, petty part of her wouldn’t admit it, but she was secretly pleased to see they looked concerned. For the first time since the incident, she wanted to ask someone what was going on.

She saw there were too many Six Doors agents around, so she had the boatwoman keep rowing, then used her qinggong to hop onto a different, quieter flower boat.

Clearly, business had taken a hit since Six Doors arrived. Many flower boats had shut down altogether. The one she landed on was nearly deserted.

Hua Rongyue sat down and drank two cups of wine. Her wounds weren’t fully healed, so she figured it was time to head back. Just then, a few other guests came aboard. They sat at a distance and drank quietly.

At first, Hua Rongyue didn’t pay them much attention. Then she sensed something odd and glanced over. Like her, they were heavily cloaked. But one person’s white cloak revealed a small patch of red near the ear—a hairpin, maybe? Against the white fabric, it was strikingly noticeable.

Hua Rongyue was only halfway through her drink when she abruptly set the cup down.

“Check, please,” she said.

At the sound of her voice, the people drinking across from her all turned to look.

After all, it was very strange to hear a woman’s voice coming from a man’s mouth.

Hua Rongyue could only sigh inwardly. She only had two voices—now that one was “out of service,” what else could she do? Pretend to be mute?

She got up and left quickly. As she pushed the curtain aside and exited, one of the men said, “That voice just now… wasn’t it a bit strange?”

“It was,” Jiang Lianhuan replied. “Also… he left without finishing his drink.”

He glanced at Hua Rongyue’s half-empty cup and put down his own.

Hua Rongyue deliberately walked fast, afraid they’d catch on. After a few minutes with no reaction behind her, she started to relax.

Then Jiang Lianhuan’s voice rang out.

“Stop.”

At the sound of his voice, Hua Rongyue could only halt. She felt helpless. Of all times to run into this…

She stood there, thinking of countless things, and finally let out a sigh.

Why does this scene feel so familiar?

Oh, right—Yi Linglong had gone through something like this too. Back then, Jiang Lianhuan hadn’t revealed his true colors yet, and Yi Linglong really was a lunatic. Their first meeting had led straight to a fight.

But back then, Yi Linglong didn’t dare show his face. And Jiang Lianhuan—being from Six Doors—had probably viewed the whole thing like a cat toying with a mouse. Maybe it was the same now.

“Turn around. Take off the hat,” Jiang Lianhuan ordered.

Hua Rongyue stayed silent for a moment.

“What if I don’t want to?” she asked.

“Then I guess I’ll just have to see for myself,” Jiang Lianhuan said. “I don’t know why, but I’ve got a feeling I’ve caught a big fish today.”

Hua Rongyue stood with her back to him, the only weapon she had was Wushang—but she couldn’t draw it.

She had a sinking feeling that this wasn’t going to end well. This time, she probably couldn’t rely on just “acting righteous” to gross Jiang Lianhuan out and make him leave.

—

Actually, only Jiang Lianhuan had chased her out. The others had gone back to the inn.

Li Zixin also returned, utterly exhausted. He hadn’t found anything useful today. At this rate, Hua Rongyue might already be dead.

As he lay there with his eyes closed, trying to rest, he heard the others talking about meeting a strange man—one who acted and spoke in a very peculiar way.

Li Zixin’s eyes snapped open.

“That man you mentioned… did his voice sound like a woman’s?” he asked.

“…Yeah. How’d you know?” They turned to look at him in surprise.

Even Jin Butou, who had just returned, looked over instinctively. Li Zixin recalled the incident earlier in the day—and suddenly bolted upright.

“I went to that flower boat you guys mentioned. Didn’t see any women. Just that one man…”

He hadn’t thought anything of it before. But now, the realization hit him like ice water.

What was a completely unrelated man doing alone on a flower boat? And why were the women treating him with such deference?

Come to think of it…

That seemingly frail man—whose voice gave him chills like a snake—probably wasn’t just some ordinary person.