Little Pink Starfish

When the dagger was plunged in, Fan Ning was completely stunned.

He stared at Yuan Yuanyuan in disbelief, as if he were witnessing the most terrifying thing in the world. Meanwhile, Yuan Yuanyuan remained calm, even adjusting the angle of the blade slightly—she even leaned into it a bit.

She thought her actions were pretty convincing. The place where she’d been stabbed was definitely a vital point—one that, if pierced, would have you dropping dead in minutes. Yet here she was, still breathing, still able to speak—and still listening to whatever Fan Ning was muttering.

“Why did you…” Fan Ning’s voice sounded dazed, and he stared at Yuan Yuanyuan with wide eyes. Down below, noise exploded from the crowd. Ever since Fan Ning struck Yuan—no, Yuan—chaos had broken out.

“What just happened? What’s going on?” The demons on the ground were all serious types. They hadn’t seen clearly what was happening above.

They hadn’t noticed that Fan Ning had been at a disadvantage earlier. Unlike the humans watching via screen with access to slow motion replays, the demons didn’t have keen vision or technological help. At this moment, what they saw was simply Fan Ning gaining the upper hand in the fight and successfully defeating Yuan.

Everyone was still watching, still waiting for confirmation. But when Yuan finally collapsed, the human side erupted into thunderous cheers.

In contrast, the demon side fell into deathly silence.

Yuan Yuanyuan had originally wanted to mimic the elders in stories and say something epic at this moment—after all, the right words could become a legend lasting a decade. But after thinking about it, she admitted to herself that she was a science major… she just didn’t have it in her to craft anything that was both concise and profound.

Still, she had a few last words. Covered in blood, she leaned close to Fan Ning’s ear and whispered, “So… do you think this method worked?”

Fan Ning was speechless. They were close—Yuan could hear his trembling breaths.

Ah… actually, Yuan Yuanyuan thought, to be fair, breathing this heavily wasn’t easy. In TV dramas, when characters got emotionally overwhelmed, they’d start breathing erratically, and it always looked exaggerated. But seeing it in real life… not exaggerated at all. It was real.

A lot of people had emotional breakdowns in moments like this. Yuan Yuanyuan figured she had to really sell the performance—act like a wounded patient. She couldn’t let anyone suspect she was faking.

“You did this on purpose?” Fan Ning asked.

“Yeah,” Yuan Yuanyuan replied. “I told you… sometimes you need a strong dose of medicine.”

Fan Ning looked her up and down and took a step back. Yuan might’ve been faking, but the blood was all real. In such a short time, she’d already lost a lot. It looked horrifying.

A few demons started to move toward her—but then suddenly stopped. On the human side, some people had thought of stepping forward too, but they also froze in place.

There seemed to be an invisible force field around the two of them in the sky, keeping everyone else out.

“I didn’t think… that’s what you meant by ‘strong medicine,’” Fan Ning said. “I thought…”

“Why bother?” Yuan Yuanyuan said. “Even you said it yourself—demons are a twisted group. But luckily, that twistedness can be useful right now.”

“They won’t… lash out in a frenzy?”

“They won’t,” Yuan Yuanyuan replied. “If they could, they would’ve done so decades ago. It’s not something in their bones. They need someone to charge at the front for them. And once that person falls like this, they’ll quiet down.”

Fan Ning wanted to let go of the dagger, but Yuan Yuanyuan stopped him with a firm hand. “Don’t move. You want the ones below to see you let go?”

“But—”

“Just go with it. Act with me,” Yuan Yuanyuan said. “Even if they look calm right now, if they sense something’s off, they’ll go wild.”

Fan Ning’s hand should’ve let go. But for some reason, he stood there like a puppet, following her instructions. Yuan said not to move, so he didn’t—like his brain had shut down.

“Listen to me…” Yuan Yuanyuan took a long, heavy breath, pretending to be weak. Though in her mind, she was griping: all those TV dramas and manga where people say one or two final sentences before dying—what a joke. She had way more to say. If she could, she’d dump everything she had onto Fan Ning… Of course, compared to those fictional characters, she probably looked a bit lame.

“You were right. Between humans and demons, the demons need an outlet. If they can’t find one, then at least let them have a way to calm down.”

“And yet you can’t even speak a full sentence anymore,” Fan Ning said bitterly. “It’s like your brain’s regressed to grade school level.”

“This plan is something I came up with… after thinking about it for a very, very long time,” Yuan said. “Now, ask yourself—do you really think there’s a better option?”

Fan Ning wanted to object, but as he opened his mouth… nothing came out.

It was true. As long as Yuan died now—

—the rage among the demons would subside. Anger was something that built up over time, and once it calmed down, it might take decades to reach the boiling point again.

Humanity would avoid a total catastrophe. Like the city beneath them—the people living there had no idea what was happening tonight. Tomorrow morning, they’d wake up, go to work, and enjoy their peaceful lives.

But Yuan…

Why did she have to die? Why her?

Fan Ning’s mind was blank. This wasn’t the first time he’d felt this way—he’d felt it before, and had once sworn to himself that he’d never let it happen again. Yet here they were, only a few months later.

“…You’d better remember this.” Yuan Yuanyuan said. “Remember the recent string of blackouts? That was my doing. A group of demons I left behind caused all of it. They’re my most loyal followers, which means… even if I die, they’ll continue to carry out my final orders.”

“Do you understand what that means?” she said. “Even if I stop this war now, don’t think you can act against the demons without consequences. You know what would happen.”

“…If you’ve already decided to die, why worry about all this?” Fan Ning’s voice was hoarse.

“I can’t help it. I still have demon blood in me. If there’s a chance, please… take care of them for me. I can’t change the demons… so I’m entrusting everything to you.”

“Why me?”

Because you’re the protagonist… no, no, I can’t say that.

“Because you’re my disciple,” Yuan Yuanyuan said with a smile. “A long time ago, I told you—you would become someone incredible.”

Fan Ning looked at Yuan, eyes unwavering.

“Now,” Yuan said, “let’s finish the performance. Go back to your people—and drop me.”

“Drop… you?” Fan Ning asked.

“Yes,” Yuan said. “Drop me.”

Fan Ning, dazed, stepped back. His dagger slid from Yuan’s body. And Yuan, across from him, suddenly weakened—like a piece of paper in the wind.

She plummeted downward like a kite with a severed string. Fan Ning didn’t reach out to catch her, just as she had instructed.

It wasn’t until she fell that he understood why she’d told him to do that.

He had to stand here, as the victor, watching her fall as the defeated. Only then would everyone around them remember this moment forever.

As Yuan’s body fell, it slowly caught fire. Fan Ning couldn’t even tell where the flames started. But suddenly he remembered a rumor—some demons, before death, chose to self-immolate.

The fire burned silently and quickly. Soon, the dark night sky was left with only flickering sparks—floating like a butterfly in the wind.

Drifting east for a moment… then west…

Until finally, the last spark vanished into a corner no one could see.

—And just like that, she was gone.

…

Cough, cough…

Yuan Yuanyuan lay in bed, sniffling. She seemed to have caught a cold after coming back—and not just any cold, but a real nasty one. No medicine was helping.

Of course, she wasn’t talking about human medicine. She meant demon medicine—a leftover perk from when she used to work at the tavern.

On the table sat a gleaming dagger. Yuan thought, this wasn’t a total loss… she’d actually managed to smuggle the knife back. A few years from now, this could be remembered as the weapon wielded by a famous figure in her youth. Maybe she could even pass it off as a historical artifact.

She’d hide it—save it for a rainy day. If she ever ran out of money for food, she’d use this knife to get by. Yuan grinned and tucked it away with satisfaction.

She sneezed again and went to the bathroom. Her stomach was wrapped tightly in layers of gauze. She was almost fully healed now. Ever since she discovered that her chest could be pierced clean through, she’d developed a new skill for herself.

She didn’t know why, but if she willed it, the flesh in her body could disappear whenever she wanted—she could even specify the area. So that “vital spot” wound wasn’t actually much of an issue… If the flesh wasn’t there, how could there be a vital point?

Even though she’d sounded so sincere back there with Fan Ning, Yuan had still kept a trump card. Now the rumor outside was that Yuan had been defeated by Fan Ning—and Yuan disdained it deeply.

Do you guys think Ji Qiu’s art is just for show?

When this whole thing was drawn out—how would humans react?

Yuan Yuanyuan herself was curious.

This was starting to feel like a social experiment… Should she make a bold prediction first?