Little Pink Starfish

After reading the latest comic chapter, Yuan Yuanyuan felt… complicated. But then again, so did most readers.

Among them was Ciling, who, after reading the chapter, began to spiral into deep contemplation. Actually, ever since that ghost appeared a while ago, Ciling had already started pondering over things. Knowing the red-dressed woman’s true identity left her in pain—but also strangely joyful.

The joy came from the ridiculous amount of hidden layers in the plot. The pain… well, came from having to bottle it all up.

Ciling didn’t blame herself for overthinking. If blame were to be assigned, it would be to this whole weird situation.

Back when she saw that ghost, Ciling immediately guessed that he was the Liu-surnamed Taoist—not because she pieced it together like other readers did, based on the existing characters, but because of something inferred from her own side… her family’s side.

Sometimes, Ciling felt that today’s red-dressed woman was like her mother in the past—someone who used nothing but beauty to make a living…

Her mixed feelings stemmed from knowing that the red-dressed woman was actually a red-dressed man, which made her experience of reading the comic completely different from the average reader.

While everyone else read it like some chaotic soap opera, Ciling tried to keep her mind as “pure” as possible. But inevitably, her thoughts would stray, wondering if the friendship between the two male leads was really just friendship, or if there was something… more.

After all… Yuan was a legendary cross-dressing trap, prettier than most women when in disguise. What if… it wasn’t all just an act?

Ciling glanced at the latest chapter again while idly doodling on her desk. Her paper had now become a complex mess of tangled character connections, more intricate than an astronomical chart.

What the hell is going on with you people?! she cried internally, echoing the same frustration Yuan had once expressed.

I didn’t expect Yuan to be this much of a “butterfly magnet”… Ciling thought gloomily. Especially compared to that older man now—last time she saw him, his hands were covered in bloodstains.

While he didn’t look seriously hurt, in demon terms, he was already quite old. “Old man” was, sadly, an accurate description. Who knew if his body could even withstand those kinds of injuries anymore?

That entire generation of demon leaders rarely lived this long. Even the Head of the Li Family had once been gravely injured, to the point where he looked like an old man for a while.

That detail was briefly touched on at the end of the last comic issue, just after the wedding scenes. Back then, after agreeing to serve the King of a Hundred Demons, the Li Head had made extensive preparations. Yuan had been terrifyingly powerful at that time—even ambushing him would require immense effort.

Only someone like the Li Head, with his special connection, could get Yuan to let his guard down. But even that didn’t guarantee success—Yuan had been a spy for years. His senses were razor-sharp.

So the Li Head had resorted to an extreme method. The comic didn’t specify what, but there was a panel:

He sat under a lamp with a bowl of dark, viscous liquid in front of him, hesitating slightly. But his gaze slowly changed—from confusion to determination.

In the end, he lifted the bowl and drank it all in one gulp.

Then came the pain—his expression twisted, sweat pouring down his forehead. He slumped to the ground, half-kneeling in agony.

After a long while, he finally calmed down, tidied himself up, and walked out of the room as if nothing had happened.

That was the moment Ciling truly realized how harsh those old demons had had it. They weren’t just powerful—they were ruthless. The Li Head might’ve lacked in talent, but his willpower was unmatched.

…Although in the eyes of shippers, this was the sweetest of forbidden candies. But that wasn’t the point.

Because of the medicine, the Li Head’s health had been poor ever since. But no one knew it. He lived all the way through the war and decades beyond, until the side effects finally caught up.

First came fatigue—he couldn’t do the things he used to. Then, white hairs appeared suddenly in his otherwise youthful appearance.

In just two or three years, he went from a young man to an elderly one. Normally, demons could maintain their appearance for life, only aging when death was imminent. For him, the transformation came far too early.

He withdrew from the public eye. He had one daughter… but sadly, she often rebelled against him.

“Wow… so this is the backstory? He gave everything, and then Yuan didn’t even die. Now he’s back out in the world?”

“I can already imagine it—Li Head wasting away at home, resigned to live out his days in despair. Then suddenly, news breaks that his old friend is alive. Shocked… and maybe just a bit excited?”

“A love so deep you’d stab each other. You guys need therapy. Or an exorcist.”

“It’s not even that! Don’t forget what we saw last issue—Yuan’s death was clearly part of a conspiracy!”

“This is twisted sugar. ‘If anyone kills you, it can only be me’—why is this kind of messed up line so addictive?”

Reading comments like these, Ciling fell into another wave of strange fantasy… She didn’t know that the Li Head had once used humans to extend his life—or that she herself had been dragged into that scheme. If she had known, she wouldn’t be imagining nonsense now—she’d probably be stabbing grass dolls of him every day.

A week passed quickly. During that time, the Li Head’s popularity steadily rose. A small fan wave even started to form. Yuan Yuanyuan, who didn’t care for hype, still felt a bit disappointed. She had originally planned to vote him out of the rankings on Demon Chronicles.

Lately, she’d been trying to shift her mindset to match Seventeen’s. Now that she knew so much, she couldn’t keep seeing the Li Head as just an enemy—or else she might break character the next time they met.

Seventeen’s feelings toward him couldn’t have been simple. It was probably an extremely complex mix. The two of them had a relationship comparable to those legendary rival-pairings from Naruto—you couldn’t just throw punches right out the gate. Seventeen likely wouldn’t have done that either.

So Yuan Yuanyuan secretly started studying some of the most painfully BL shounen manga to prepare herself emotionally. She wanted to figure out how to react appropriately—but nothing she found seemed very applicable.

She couldn’t just run into him and yell, “Yuan—!” / “My Lord—!” and sob uncontrollably before throwing a “friendship-breaking punch.”

That’d be… no. Absolutely not. Kill her first.

Wait—what was the Li Head’s full name again? Yuan Yuanyuan vaguely remembered someone mentioning it before, but now she’d completely forgotten…

She did remember that Li Si Qun was the Li Head’s younger brother—biological. That much she knew. What she really wanted to know was: who had attacked Li Si Qun back in the day?

Last issue hinted at a possible answer but stopped short. Still, the deeper you thought about it, the more interesting it became.

Like at the wedding, when the Li Head saw Si Qun and Seventeen standing together, he forced himself not to think anything. But the mood was thick. It was like watching a tragic uke seeing his beloved “white moonlight” stolen by his own little brother. He hated his brother, hated his love—classic soap-opera vibes. But Yuan Yuanyuan thought more deeply.

What if… he wasn’t avoiding the thought for Seventeen’s sake, but for Si Qun’s?

Because now, Si Qun was totally clueless. He didn’t even remember why he was like this. But it was possible—likely, even—that the one who hurt him was his own brother.

Back then, the Li Head had asked Yuan if Si Qun was still “that dumb.” Maybe during the wedding, as he looked at his brother, he was already thinking: Should I strike first?

After all, Seventeen and Si Qun had been close. So if the Li Head planned to go after Yuan, it made sense he’d deal with Si Qun as a precaution.

The Li Head’s tragedy wasn’t any smaller than Seventeen’s, Yuan Yuanyuan thought. Now, she was starting to wonder—did Si Qun even remember his older brother? They were living under the same roof. It was easy for her to check.

One night, as Si Qun came home and flopped down to watch TV, Yuan Yuanyuan crept over with the comic in hand. She held it open, pointed at a panel, and asked slyly,

“S-Si Qun’er… do you remember who this is?”