Little Pink Starfish

An Zhe slightly lowered his eyes. Being touched by the adjudicator felt strange. He felt that Lu Feng was currently in a very gentle state.
If it was because his earlier comfort had caused this person’s change in mood, he even felt a bit happy.

So he smiled at Lu Feng.
Then he saw Lu Feng’s expression turn wicked, and the fingers that had just touched his hair moved down and pinched his face.

—An Zhe felt that maybe it was better when this person was in a bad mood, at least then he wouldn’t bully others at will.

He escaped from Lu Feng. “I need to check on the pot.”
Lu Feng said, “Mm-hmm.”

An Zhe returned to the kitchen and found that the water had indeed started boiling. Foam crowded upward, nearly pushing off the lid.
In recent days, he had already mastered enough cooking techniques. He lifted the transparent lid, white steam rose, and the foam quickly subsided.
The bacon had already been soaked open in the boiling water, the edges of the small potato chunks had rounded.
A small amount of milk made the soup slightly milky in color, and amidst the savory scent was a faint, gentle sweetness—An Zhe really liked that smell.

He picked up the ladle beside him and used the bottom to press on the softened potatoes. Some small chunks gradually melted into the soup, making the potato soup visibly thicker.

Lu Feng had arrived at the kitchen at some point, leaning against the doorframe, and said calmly, “Need help?”
An Zhe, of course, didn’t expect the colonel to know anything about the kitchen. “No need,” he said.

But Lu Feng didn’t leave. He stood there watching An Zhe, then looked around at the kitchen, this small space.
Finally, his gaze stopped on the silver faucet over the sink. “It leaks?”
An Zhe said, “Mm.”

The faucet had been leaking since the first day he moved in. No matter how tightly he turned it, it would drip.
During the day it wasn’t obvious, but at night, in complete silence, even when the lights of the Twin Towers in the distance went out,
the dripping sound would echo through the entire room.
It sometimes disturbed his sleep—but more importantly, he was worried he’d end up paying extra on his water bill.

Lu Feng took off his jacket, draped it aside, rolled up his sleeves, and raised his hand to shut off the black valve above the pipe—something An Zhe couldn’t reach.
Then he unscrewed the faucet.

An Zhe quietly watched. He thought this action had two possibilities:
one, Lu Feng wanted to destroy his faucet entirely. Two, he really wanted to help fix it.
Rationally, he thought it was the former. Emotionally, he hoped for the latter.

At that moment, someone knocked on the door.

Lu Feng, still dismantling the faucet, didn’t even look up. “Go.”

His tone was so justified, it was as if he were the owner of the place.

The actual owner, An Zhe, put down the ladle and walked to open the door.
It was a soldier in military uniform.

The man looked around and said, “Colonel Lu asked me to come here.”
He spoke loudly.

From the kitchen came Lu Feng’s calm voice: “Here.”
The soldier stepped in and saluted. “Colonel Lu, I’m from Logistics. The issue with your ID card was our mistake—”

Then he stopped mid-sentence, staring at the faucet parts in Lu Feng’s hands like he’d seen a ghost, then quickly continued, “—and we sincerely apologize—”

“Cut the nonsense,” Lu Feng coldly interrupted.
The soldier said, “…I’ve brought your new ID card.”

“Thanks,” Lu Feng said, not looking up, hands still busy reassembling the faucet. “Just leave it.”

The sink had some peeled potato skins beside a knife. The sink was full of water.
In the colonel’s hands were faucet parts.

The soldier held the card awkwardly, unsure where to put it.

An Zhe said softly, “Give it to me.”
He took the card, and the soldier left.

At the door, the soldier glanced into the kitchen, then looked at An Zhe and lowered his voice—though it was still loud:
“…What’s the colonel doing?”

An Zhe said, “Fixing the faucet.”

“The adjudicator knows how to fix faucets?” the soldier asked suspiciously. “You and he are…?”

An Zhe: “Now, neighbors.”
The soldier: “Before that?”

An Zhe thought of how they had slept in each other’s beds before. “Considered friends.”

The soldier’s mouth twitched. “…Heh.”

He clearly didn’t believe it. Probably because Lu Feng rarely took apart anyone’s faucet.

An Zhe calmly closed the door and returned to the kitchen. The faucet had been reinstalled.
Lu Feng turned on the water valve.

Not a drop leaked.

“Wow,” An Zhe said.

Looking at the faucet, he thought: Adjudicators weren’t always aloof and untouchable; some of them really seemed to know everything.

Once the potato soup was done, An Zhe served two bowls and added compressed biscuits.
Lu Feng seemed to be in a very good mood, but An Zhe had no appetite. He racked his brain trying to figure out more about the lighthouse.

“What will you do next?”
“Wait for arrangements.”

“Will you work in the Twin Towers?”
“Maybe.”

“Does the lighthouse often contact the military?”
“Not often.”

Huh… Are you familiar with him?

“Not familiar,” Lu Feng said blankly.

The obvious coldness made An Zhe want to stop asking—but stopping too abruptly might seem suspicious.
So he tried one more: “That little girl today…”

Lu Feng looked at him.

“Don’t ask what you shouldn’t,” he said lightly. “Don’t talk while eating.”

An Zhe shut up in disappointment.

He didn’t get any useful information about the spore that night.
But the adjudicator’s attitude toward him seemed… better.

An Zhe opened the door to send Lu Feng off.

Lu Feng: “Goodbye.”
An Zhe: “Goodbye.”

Then he watched as Lu Feng pressed the new ID card to the sensor. The green light lit up, and the lock opened.

Lu Feng pushed open the door.

Then suddenly stopped.

He stood still, unmoving.

That reaction was rare for the colonel. An Zhe quietly leaned in and looked inside the room.

He froze.

The room wasn’t empty.

Next to the sofa, a large open suitcase sat, and a black-uniformed officer was sitting upright on the couch.
This officer had black hair and green eyes—coldly staring at the doorway.

Lu Feng slowly turned his head and gave An Zhe the exact same look.

An Zhe: “…It wasn’t me.”

Really wasn’t.

He hadn’t seen that damned dummy since he’d been captured.
He thought it had been blown up with Zone 6. How did it end up in Lu Feng’s room?

Just then, Lu Feng’s communicator rang. It was the soldier from earlier.
“Colonel, did you return to your room? Is the new ID card working properly?”

“Thanks, yes,” Lu Feng said. “But I’d like to ask—what’s with the dummy in my living room?”

“Dummy?” The soldier sounded puzzled, then realized, “Oh! During the emergency evacuation, we rescued important documents and gear.
One soldier saw that thing and assumed it was important military equipment, so it got packed up and sent here.
We didn’t know what to do with it, so we put it in your room.”

Lu Feng repeated, “Important military equipment?”

“Yeah. Even though we’re in the main city, we’ve heard there are some anti-adjudicator groups out in the outer zones.
We figured the dummy might be used for decoys or bait. Also, it looked pretty expensive…”

Lu Feng didn’t say anything.

The soldier finally caught on. “Did I say something wrong, sir?”

“No. Thanks.” Lu Feng ended the call.

Then he said to An Zhe: “Come here.”

An Zhe was full of despair. His old case hadn’t even been settled—he’d only been released due to the worm invasion.
Now the evidence had popped up again. Was Lu Feng going to revisit the whole thing and charge him?

He walked over.

Lu Feng roughly picked up the dummy from the couch, shoved it into the suitcase, then pushed it toward An Zhe.
An Zhe instinctively grabbed the handle.

Lu Feng said, “It’s yours.”

An Zhe: “…”