Little Pink Starfish

Once the dizziness passed, Yuan Yuanyuan suddenly felt a wave of nausea.

She swallowed a few times to ease her discomfort and looked toward the Li Family Head sitting inside the room.

There was a single lamp inside, dimly glowing—and the Li Head sat calmly beneath it.

The moment the door had opened, it felt to Yuan like a scene from an anime slowly coming to life before her eyes. That abrupt transition from fiction to reality brought with it a kind of vertigo.

It was… deeply unsettling.

The Li Family Head’s posture was exactly the same as it had been in the comic—sitting at the table like he’d been waiting for someone. Yuan watched him quietly. He didn’t even glance at her standing in the doorway.

“…You’re the one who called me here, aren’t you?” Yuan had to speak first after the long silence. Casually, she glanced at the thick smoke filling the room. The door had remained closed this whole time, so the smoke had reached a considerable density.

If it weren’t for the red veil wrapped around her, she would’ve probably collapsed the moment she stepped inside.

She glanced at Guo Yu, the Li Head, whose face remained utterly unreadable—she couldn’t tell whether his indifference was deliberate or not.

“You… came pretty quickly,” the Li Head finally said, slowly. “I thought you wouldn’t show up.”

“I didn’t want to,” Yuan replied, “but I had no choice.”

“No choice?” the Li Head repeated, raising an eyebrow.

Yuan sneered, “Since someone’s already slapped me in the face in front of the whole crowd—why wouldn’t I show up?”

The Li Head let out his first laugh since Yuan had entered.

Like Yuan’s—it was cold and sharp.

…

Outside, the demons began lighting lanterns again. The area brightened, and people’s nerves started to ease. The chaotic murmurs returned.

“What’s the Li Head planning, calling the red-dressed woman here? Anyone know anything?”

“I heard it’s because she has information about Yuan… that’s why Li Wangzhu is so anxious.”

“Yuan? There’s still news about him? I thought he was long gone.”

“Well… it is Yuan. If the Li Head really ran into him, it’s understandable he’d be obsessed.”

“Is the Li Head… losing his mind?”

…

Inside the room, Yuan stared coldly at the sneering Li Head. His laughter faded, and he asked, “They all think I’ve gone mad… do you think so too?”

“I don’t think you’re mad,” Yuan said icily. “I think you’re insane.”

The Li Head kept that same expression as he stared at Yuan. The room went silent for several seconds.

Then suddenly, the calm expression on his face twisted into rage. He slammed his palm down on the table and stood up.

A clear handprint was left on the table, still steaming faintly.

Strangely, Yuan had anticipated the outburst. Three seconds before he moved, she knew he was going to slam the table. It was an odd, gut-level instinct.

As he rose in anger, her only thought was: You damn lunatic, I knew you’d do this.

The Li Head’s breathing was ragged. Yuan wasn’t even sure what she was feeling at the moment—yet she still strolled calmly around the room, with a faintly amused smile on her lips.

Ahem… okay, part of the “calm smile” was just because the smoke was choking her.

After a circuit around the room, she pretended nothing happened and circled back.

This stuff probably didn’t affect the Li Head much anyway. He’d been sitting here all this time without issue. If anything, Yuan suspected the man might be part butterfly himself. This incense seemed utterly useless against him.

He was starting to lose it, though. Yuan had never seen him so furious. Last time they met, he was smug and annoying, but he hadn’t gotten angry.

“Why are you so pissed, Li Head?” she asked casually.

He snapped his head up and glared at her—his eyes now glowing red, just like hers.

Yuan blinked.
He’s looking at my eyes… is he trying to confirm something?
She wasn’t sure what he was trying to see, but she turned her head slightly to keep him from reading anything on her face.

He didn’t say anything after that. Just bowed his head, seemingly deep in thought.

So she picked up the thread again.
“You’re angry because you were expecting something… and didn’t get it?”

“You thought you had the answer… but you didn’t. So now you’re throwing a tantrum?”

She walked forward a few steps until she stood near him.

“Or… are you angry because I’m not Yuan?”

As soon as the words left her mouth—a hand suddenly shot out beside her, aiming straight for her heart.

The hand was strange, covered in insect-like barbs and spines, resembling the appendages of some armored bug.

It darted toward her chest—but she dodged, just in time, and it grazed past her ribs.

In that single instant, the two exchanged a blow.

Yuan’s breathing stuttered for a moment. She’d already been holding back the effects of the smoke at such close range. This sneak attack had caught her off guard.

The Li Head calmly retracted his monstrous hand, letting it return to normal. Yuan watched him warily, trying to steady her heartbeat.

She didn’t think she’d exposed too many flaws just now. After all, even normal people would react to a sudden threat.

He was probably testing whether the smoke had affected her.
It had—but not enough to cripple her.

The Li Head said nothing more, but the fire in his eyes faded. He seemed almost statue-like now—completely still.

Yuan couldn’t help but speculate:
His earlier fury at believing she was Yuan—it felt almost like…

A reunion of long-lost friends?

What had he been hoping for in his heart? If he hated Yuan, feared Yuan’s death, wanted Yuan dead but didn’t want Yuan to be dead…

What kind of mind game was this?

Now that he saw she wasn’t Yuan, he’d returned to this half-dead, indifferent demeanor—like even looking at her was beneath him.

“…When your man died, where were you?” the Li Head asked without turning around.

“I was tracking down his enemies,” Yuan replied. “When a person dies, and not a single soul is left to avenge him—that’s a death without peace.”

“If you came here for revenge, save it,” he said, turning around. “You? You can’t kill me. Maybe Yuan had a chance, back when he was alive.”

Oh? Yuan’s ears perked up.
This was getting interesting.

She almost wanted to smack the guy ten times out of sheer excitement.

“So you called me here just to say that?” she said, eyeing him. “You’ve really lost it.”

“Watch your mouth,” the Li Head said impatiently. “I’m not in the mood to kill you today. You’re just a decorative vase. Even killing you would be a pain. So get out.”

Yuan raised one brow.

She looked at him—looked at his dead-eyed expression—and suddenly wondered:

What would he feel, someday, if he saw her real identity in the comic?

“Didn’t expect this from you, Li Head. Not only do you have a heart problem—you’re also a bit short on brain cells,” she said, stepping closer. “If I can avenge Yuan, how am I just a vase?”

As she passed by him, the sleeve of her robe fluttered slightly. In that moment, the incense burner suddenly cracked with a loud snap, shattering to pieces on the floor.

The fragrance in the room instantly thinned out. Scattered on the ground were bits of white fibrous material—shredded threads, still visibly string-like.

“If Yuan’s already dead, what’s the point of burning this stuff?” Yuan said coldly. “Burning incense for him now… don’t you think it’s a bit late?”