Little Pink Starfish

An Zhe stood in place.
The evening wind lifted his hair.

He saw a silver car with Eden’s insignia sharply turn the corner and stop in front of him. A man in a white uniform hurried out, took the little girl from Lu Feng’s hands: “Thanks for the help.”
Lu Feng looked indifferent: “Be more careful next time.”
The man got back in the car: “This was an accident.”

He said no more, closed the door, and the car sped off in the direction of Eden.

Lu Feng turned back.
An Zhe felt… a bit angry.

Then he saw Lu Feng glance at him blandly and say, with a neutral tone: “I’m a good person?”

An Zhe finally knew how to describe his mood.
He felt that Lu Feng had deceived his feelings—if mushrooms even had feelings.

He didn’t want to deal with this person anymore and turned to walk down the road.
After a few steps, a hand pressed down on his shoulder.

“Lead the way,” Lu Feng said. “I don’t know how to get back to the residential area.”
An Zhe: “?”

He asked, “You don’t know the way?”
Lu Feng: “Haven’t been back in many years.”

An Zhe thought about it—it made some sense. The colonel was either in the abyss or at the city gate. He probably hadn’t stayed in the main city for at least seven years. An Zhe, on the other hand, had been in the main city for a month and was familiar with the way back.

So he asked, “Where do you live?”
Lu Feng seemed to think for a moment, then took a blue ID card from his chest pocket.

An Zhe took it. The colonel’s card even had a different pattern from his.

His eyes dropped—gold lettering embossed on the back of the card showed a number:

3124043701

An Zhe: “.”

Recalling his own new ID number, he replied expressionlessly: “I’ll take you there.”

Lu Feng seemed to notice his expression: “Unwilling?”
An Zhe: “Willing.”

—So he led Lu Feng onto the main city’s free shuttle bus. The bus had paired seats on either side. An Zhe sat by the window; Lu Feng sat beside him. Lu Feng, with his sharp appearance and imposing adjudicator’s uniform, stood out. When he boarded, everyone in the vehicle glanced over.

An Zhe said, “Get off at the final stop.”
“Thank you,” Lu Feng said. “Where do you live?”
An Zhe: “Near you.”
Lu Feng: “Alright.”

Originally, Eden’s staff housing was nearby, but An Zhe, who had joined later, had been assigned to the military’s residential area much farther away.
The shuttle bus stopped and started several times. It took nearly forty minutes to reach the final stop, which was where he got off.

The children at Eden looked well-behaved, but in reality they weren’t—especially when they bombarded him with questions. After a full day, An Zhe would go through a low-energy phase—like now.

Usually, he would choose to nap against the wall. But tonight, with Lu Feng beside him, he thought it better to stay awake.

So, An Zhe leaned on his hand and looked out the window at the scenery—the Twin Towers, Eden, and all sorts of intricate structures. Two months in a human city still felt like a dream.

As he watched, his eyelids gradually lowered.
Eventually, he lost consciousness.

A soft mechanical voice played: “Final stop reached. Passengers, please exit in an orderly fashion. See you next time.”

Lu Feng looked at An Zhe, whose head was resting on his shoulder.

The sunset cast golden light through the window, shimmering on the tips of An Zhe’s eyelashes. His sleeping face was peaceful, his breath rising and falling gently. He looked completely harmless, unguarded, like a child who hadn’t grown up yet. Lu Feng thought it wouldn’t be bad if he just slept like this.

But then the shuttle slowed and stopped.
Passengers began standing and stepping into the aisle.

An Zhe opened his eyes.
He realized this was the most comfortable nap he had ever had.

His gaze slowly drifted sideways—until he saw black fabric and a silver insignia.

He jolted upright, seeing Lu Feng looking at him. His eyes weren’t cold; it didn’t seem he was angry about what had happened.

Lu Feng said, “Let’s go.”

An Zhe rubbed his eyes. He fell asleep fast and woke up fast.
He followed Lu Feng off the shuttle. The evening breeze carried a faint chill. He pointed ahead: “Building 24 is over there.”
Lu Feng said a brief “thanks” and walked that way.
An Zhe followed.

Halfway there, Lu Feng said: “Just take me this far.”
An Zhe said nothing and kept following.

At Unit 04, Lu Feng pressed the elevator button for the 37th floor. An Zhe followed him up.
Finding Unit 01 or 02 didn’t need directions.

An Zhe looked at the trace of the seal on Door 01, torn just the night before, and thought—this colonel still didn’t know his deception had already been exposed.

His opposite-door neighbor, Unit 01, had its seal broken a month ago—he saw it with his own eyes. That meant Lu Feng had already stayed there once and clearly knew the way.
Yet Lu Feng claimed he didn’t know the route and made An Zhe lead him. That meant—Lu Feng had just been teasing him, making him do needless labor.

Unluckily, when An Zhe saw Lu Feng’s ID card…

At that moment, he heard—

This person genuinely thought he was dutifully leading the way—An Zhe’s expression grew colder at the thought. He looked at Lu Feng, who was also looking at him.

An Zhe mimicked Lu Feng’s cold demeanor and turned to face Door 02.

The sensor let out a crisp “beep,” lit green, and with a “click,” the door unlocked.

He looked back at Lu Feng.

Lu Feng paused briefly, then said, “What a coincidence.”
An Zhe was expressionless.

“What’s wrong?” Lu Feng’s eyes showed a trace of inquiry. But within a second, as if he understood everything, his gaze turned entirely into amusement. The corners of his mouth lifted.

“I didn’t lie,” he said. “A month ago I returned to the main city for a night meeting, then went back to the outer city.”
An Zhe: “The seal.”
“The military knew I came back and sent someone to clean,” Lu Feng said.

An Zhe: “Oh.”
But he didn’t plan to believe this man.

He turned to go inside. Just then, Lu Feng’s door sensor let out a sharp “beep—”.
He turned to see Lu Feng swiping his card. Though the right card was placed, the sensor flared red.

Lu Feng frowned.

An Zhe looked at him suspiciously.

Lu Feng made a call, briefly explained the situation.
The person on the other end gave an explanation.

After hanging up, Lu Feng said to An Zhe, “Three years ago, the main city upgraded ID cards. Mine wasn’t updated in time.”

An Zhe thought—maybe he really had wrongly accused Lu Feng.
But still—

The main city wasn’t hard to navigate. The buildings were clearly numbered. Even a mushroom like him could figure out when to get off the shuttle.

He wavered.
But in the end, for the sake of the spore, he said, “Then… want to come to my place?”

Lu Feng readily agreed.

He invited the adjudicator to the couch, turned on the TV, and went to the kitchen.

Before he left, he asked, “Have you eaten?”
Lu Feng said no.

An Zhe had meant to imply he should go eat at the communal cafeteria. But Lu Feng’s reply carried another meaning—it meant he now had to cook for two.

An Zhe chopped two extra potatoes.
The main city cafeteria provided food and ingredients. Over the month, he had gotten used to making soup himself—it was tastier than the cafeteria’s thick offerings.

He added potatoes and smoked meat to the pot, poured in water, and a bit of milk. Then he turned on the fire, closed the lid, and returned to the living room.

The news was reporting the successful repair progress at the Dispersal Center.

Lu Feng sat on the couch reading An Zhe’s textbook, seemingly in a good mood.

When he was in a good mood, he teased people.
When he wasn’t, he didn’t talk—like on the train a month ago, when he clearly didn’t want to speak.

After his fit of being emotionally duped faded, An Zhe had calmed down. While cutting potatoes, he thought seriously about his relationship with Lu Feng.

To find the spore, he needed to build a good relationship with Lu Feng.
And building a good relationship meant understanding what he liked.

So An Zhe sat beside Lu Feng and saw him reading a short poem about autumn.

Lu Feng: “You teach this?”
An Zhe: “I’m still learning.”

Lu Feng’s question confirmed he was in a good mood.

So he said, “Colonel.”

Lu Feng put down the book and looked at him. “What is it?”
“Back on the train,” An Zhe lowered his eyes and said softly, “You seemed unwilling to talk to me. Did I do something wrong?”

Lu Feng looked at him for a long moment.
“No,” he said flatly. “It was my problem.”
An Zhe: “I see.”

Lu Feng: “Did it bother you?”
An Zhe: “…Yes.”

After a pause, Lu Feng reached out.
His fingers touched the skin on An Zhe’s neck, then moved downward, pulling out the shell casing he wore as a necklace.

An Zhe looked up at him, a bit flustered. He hadn’t known Lu Feng had noticed the shell.

“I killed the black market boss lady. You were nearby. Did you work for her?”
An Zhe shook his head: “I only followed Boss Xiao.”

“3260563209, at the city gate,” Lu Feng continued. “Teammate? Or boyfriend?”
An Zhe: “Friend.”

Lu Feng held the casing: “This one?”

An Zhe didn’t answer. He couldn’t.
But silence was an answer too.

Lu Feng didn’t push.
He tucked the casing back into An Zhe’s collar.

“I’ve killed many people. And in recent mass executions, you were present each time,” he said. “Under those circumstances, you still called me a good person. That surprised me.”

An Zhe thought about it—
It was true.

First meeting, Lu Feng killed Vance.
Second was Dusai—at night, an alien had entered the city, and he killed 73 others.
A month later, An Zhe stood inside the quarantine wall during Judgment Day—gunfire nonstop.
Then, on the train out of the outer city, Lu Feng gave the order to bomb District 6.

Lu Feng had killed many people connected to him.

Yet that didn’t stop An Zhe from thinking he was a good person. First, he knew Lu Feng was accurate at identifying aliens. Second, even if Lu Feng one day recognized him and killed him, or if he had died in District 6’s bombing—it wouldn’t be unjust. When you came to a human base, you accepted human rules.

But Lu Feng was the one who gave the execution order.

“Do you… feel sad because of it?” An Zhe asked.

“No,” Lu Feng looked at him. “I know what I’m doing.”

“Then…” An Zhe only said one word.
Then why the emotional fluctuations?

Lu Feng seemed to read his thoughts.

“I’ve never broken the rules,” he said. “But no one judges whether I was right or wrong.”

An Zhe recalled what young adjudicator Seran had told him. He asked, “You’re not sure whether those you killed were right or wrong?”

“No. I’m sure.” Lu Feng looked out the window. His green eyes like a frozen lake—vast and quiet. “I just sometimes wonder… these choices I’ve made. What exactly am I judging—and who will judge me in the end?”

An Zhe didn’t fully understand.
Humans sometimes said incomprehensible things when they went a little mad.

But then again—he felt like he did understand.

Looking at Lu Feng, he said, “I don’t hate you because of that.”

He paused, then added: “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

Lu Feng looked at him, a long silence.
So long An Zhe imagined the eyes before him weren’t a frozen lake—but gentle, cool water.

Evening slowly fell in the room.
Lu Feng reached out and ruffled An Zhe’s hair.