Little Pink Starfish

Outside, the carnage began anew. Yuan Yuanyuan could no longer stay out of it. Though she wasn’t deeply familiar with the war, she was gradually getting the hang of it after a few rounds.

The incident between Yuan Yuanyuan and the Li family head from a while ago now felt like a fluke—neither of them had brought it up again since.

Lately, the Li family head had been ruthlessly targeting the anti-war organization, and Yuan Yuanyuan was far from passive herself. This time, whatever past sentiment lingered between them was completely cast aside—they were fighting for real now.

She had to show up on the battlefield more and more. Compared to her earlier reckless confidence back in the Mask Organization, this time it was serious—and that made her afraid.

Most nights she woke up from nightmares, rarely able to sleep soundly anymore.

The comic’s plot had advanced rapidly, showcasing intense battle scenes. Yuan Yuanyuan realized just how many hidden aces people had up their sleeves. When those skills were finally revealed, the scenes were genuinely breathtaking.

The comic had become hardcore—each issue was one long fight from start to finish, leaving readers wide-eyed in stunned silence.

As the Red-Dressed Woman, Yuan Yuanyuan couldn’t appear too weak, but she also couldn’t be overly brutal. She had to be elegant and soft.

Through experience, she somehow developed a trick—she could instantly switch from a brutal war god to a delicate maiden. Even she had to admit: the environment really did shape you.

Gao Ling stared at the comic while resting her chin in one hand, stylus in the other. She studied the Red-Dressed Woman’s combat scenes while sketching on her tablet. On her screen was another Red-Dressed Woman—one not wearing a veil, with Yuan’s face.

In other words, Gao Ling was trying to imagine what the Red-Dressed Woman would look like without the veil—if she was actually Yuan.

The combat scenes were seamless—each move flowed into the next, the kind that made you hear sound effects in your head. Gao Ling kept sketching, smirking. The Red-Dressed Woman’s movements could be described in one word: beautiful. Add another? Ethereal.

Beautiful, ethereal, and full of an enchanting charm—any man watching would go weak in the knees.

Gao Ling replaced the veil with Yuan’s face, then added his usual expressions. Just for fun, she even wrote some internal monologue:

“You foolish humans!”
“Ahahaha, pathetic nerds, behold Lord Yuan’s divine punishment!”

She posted her illustrations in the group chat and instantly triggered an explosion of reactions. Everyone said the images were both bizarre… and kind of amazing.

[Yooo~ I’ve always imagined what Yuan looked like under the veil—never thought the boss would actually draw it!]
[So pretty! Why do I suddenly think Yuan makes a great bottom?]
[This is a real trap—like, ancient-level trap.]

Gao Ling examined her own drawings again. While sketching, she’d studied the comic’s layouts and noticed something surprising: even though the Red-Dressed Woman’s figure resembled a voluptuous older woman, using a male body model made the look even more striking—almost androgynous, with an elegant, unplaceable charm.

This version of Yuan… very few had seen him like this, right?

Gao Ling sighed. After finishing those drawings, she had a sincere thought—even without the tragic backstory, just a few pictures like these could make Yuan a sensation. With a face like that, how could he not be popular?

That day, Yuan Yuanyuan encountered the Li family head again. They stood far apart, exchanging glances. Yuan Yuanyuan smiled, “Li family head, still alive and well?”

“You’re actually still alive?” he sneered. “I thought after last time, you’d be living in constant fear. Go home—battlefields aren’t for women.”

Yuan Yuanyuan was momentarily choked up. Because… yeah, she had been scared this whole time. It felt like he was mocking her.

But she didn’t see herself as weak. No matter what, she’d stepped onto the field, hadn’t she?

She studied the Li family head. Though he looked fine on the surface, something about him had changed—he was more brutal now. At the very least, he didn’t speak to her as gently as before.

Gao Ling kept sketching. She wanted to draw what lay beneath the comic’s surface—like Yuan playing the role of the Red-Dressed Woman.

She had an idea: bruises. Large ones, spreading from the back all the way to the arms.

She dabbed in a few strokes on Yuan’s face—added red around the lips, made his complexion paler. Instantly, the image on screen transformed into something completely different.

Now it looked tragic. Devastating.

On the battlefield, Yuan Yuanyuan really was suffering. She was hesitant, slow. Her injuries hadn’t healed. No matter how long she rested, some things didn’t recover. Compared to the Li family head in peak condition, she was at a disadvantage.

Soon into the fight, she had several wounds already. She began to suspect—was his weapon poisoned?

Realizing she couldn’t last much longer, she quickly signaled her backup to take her place.

Back on Gao Ling’s screen, her stylus hesitated at Yuan’s neck. She added a red stroke there—just as…

“Watch out!” someone shouted.

Yuan Yuanyuan turned her head—but not in time. The Li family head slashed across her neck.

At the same moment, Gao Ling’s pen inexplicably jolted—leaving a red streak across Yuan’s digital neck. She froze.

What just happened? That stroke—felt… cursed.

She paused, undid the stroke, and kept drawing. On the battlefield, chaos broke out. The Red-Dressed Woman had to be evacuated by force, guarded by her allies.

Their general wounded, the anti-war organization fell into temporary disarray and retreated. The Li family head pushed forward in pursuit, but they still managed to get her to safety.

Yuan Yuanyuan lay on a bed, panting, feeling the blood spurt from her neck…

Honestly, the blood spray at first was so dramatic it reminded her of a Stephen Chow movie—ridiculously over-the-top, like a 360-degree blood geyser. Her face veil was soaked. She took it off, relieved it had shielded her face somewhat.

Lying there, she silently vowed—Never again will I fight the Li family head as the Red-Dressed Woman… I seriously can’t win. If she survived this, she’d need to seriously rethink her tactics.

A medic beside her was fussing over the wound. As she drifted closer to unconsciousness, her limbs went limp.

Then—stab. A cold silver needle jabbed into her pressure point.

“Don’t sleep,” the medic said flatly. “If you fall asleep, you might not wake up.”

Yuan Yuanyuan slowly turned her head and stared at the nearly hand-length needle. Her eyes snapped open, suddenly full of energetic sparkle.

…

Monday’s issue. Gao Ling stared at the comic and nearly lost consciousness.

The Red-Dressed Woman had blood pouring everywhere. The Li family head’s blade cut her throat. Her pupils contracted—then dilated.

A few drops of her blood landed on the Li family head’s face. He smiled—but his eyes were icy and unreadable.

The wound was at the neck—exactly where Gao Ling had drawn it days ago.

The internet exploded with theories. Most said the Red-Dressed Woman was simply weaker than the Li family head.

Gao Ling wanted to scream, That’s not it! He’s injured! He’s dying!

She dug up the illustration she’d drawn earlier and, feeling increasingly uneasy, tossed it into the recycle bin.

The comic made it clear—the Red-Dressed Woman’s injury was critical. But at least, at the end of this chapter, there was some relief: she wasn’t dead. Just badly hurt, recuperating in secret and unable to show herself.

Online chatter was deafening. And in Gao Ling’s group chat, it was like a volcanic eruption—totally out of control.

That night, many of them wrote long, passionate comments under Monster Chronicles. But when they refreshed the page, their comments were… gone.

[What the hell? Why isn’t anything posting?] someone muttered.

[It’s been like this for a while now… They won’t let us ‘spoil’ anything. Get it?] someone else said quietly.

Everyone stared at the blank comment section.

Their last outlet—now sealed shut.