Little Pink Starfish

“Last month, one of my… uncles got bitten by a monster outside and died. Then a few days ago, another uncle went out to look for supplies—those days the temperature suddenly spiked, and there was a sandstorm—he still hasn’t come back. And then the two uncles I just mentioned.” Sibei’s fingers picked at the peeling lacquer on the table’s surface as he slowly said, “It’s just Grandpa and me now, and Grandpa’s illness is getting worse and worse. He used to be able to talk to me, but these past few days, his mind has gotten fuzzy.”

“Sometimes he screams in pain, sometimes he says things I don’t understand.” Sibei looked at Lu Feng earnestly. “Can he still be cured?”

Lu Feng said, “If we return to the base, perhaps the illness can be diagnosed.”

He didn’t make any promises about a cure. An Zhe lowered his eyes to the Base Monthly in his hand. On that page was an obituary, stating that a long-time contributor to the magazine had passed away due to illness, and their serialized story Mission had thus come to an end.

In the base—especially in the outer city—few people lived to be fifty or sixty. Those lucky enough to reach old age often faced successive waves of illness. The artificial magnetic field was weaker than the Earth’s original geomagnetic field, so the human body still suffered subtle radiation. As a result, genetic diseases led by cancer remained common, taking more than half the elderly. Those who survived years in the wild often suffered from endless stress responses and psychological trauma—incurable chronic conditions.

“Thank you… thank you so much,” Sibei said. “My grandpa raised me. He taught me how to read. It’s always been Grandpa repairing our generator. Everyone said there were no more people in the world, but Grandpa made me wait. He said if there’s aurora in the sky, it means there’s still a human organization out there.”

Lu Feng asked, “He was the engineer here?”

“Yes,” Sibei said.

Lu Feng narrowed his eyes slightly.

He asked, “How did he know the aurora means there’s a human organization?”

Sibei thought for a moment and explained, “This is a magnetite mine. Grandpa was the engineer here. He said… his teacher used to work at some research institute, and that institute had always been studying the magnetic poles. Grandpa’s teacher told him that the origin of this disaster was a problem with the magnetic poles, and that the institute was working on a solution.”

“Highland Research Institute,” Lu Feng said flatly. “The artificial magnetic pole research base.”

Sibei nodded. “I think that’s what it was called.”

“I’ve temporarily lost contact with the base,” Lu Feng didn’t continue on that topic. “Once communication is restored, I’ll take you both back.”

Sibei nodded firmly. “Thank you.”

For now, they stayed there. No one knew when communication would return. Sibei showed them the basic structure of the mine.

They were currently in the core area. Before the catastrophe, it had been a resting place for miners and engineers—complete with living quarters, basic facilities, and some mining equipment like generators and tools. Being deep underground, surrounded by tough rock, as long as the entrance was secured, it was like a safe, independent world.

Outside the core were several long, winding mine shafts, all dug by previous workers and following the ore veins deep underground.

“Even though it’s dark, there are no monsters inside,” Sibei said. “You can rest easy.”

At noon, Sibei went to cook. An Zhe was curious about the kitchen but felt it rude to barge in as they weren’t yet close. So he found other things to do.

Mushrooms liked water, and humans needed it too. Water was incredibly important—sometimes even more so than food—so the people in the mine had made great efforts to gather it.

When it rained outside, they’d collect water en masse—using alum powder to purify it, storing it in large cement barrels. But since weather was unpredictable, they also built a water-collection system inside: in the deepest mine shaft, they carved intricate grooves along the walls. Due to humidity and temperature differences between day and night, fine water droplets would form. As they gathered and grew heavier, they would drip downward, following the grooves to plastic collection bottles below. Once full, these bottles could yield nearly 100 liters.

According to Sibei, this current batch was almost ready for harvesting.

—So An Zhe and Lu Feng each took a plastic bucket and a lantern, heading into the main shaft to help retrieve the water.

An Zhe poured the collected water into his bucket and moved forward to find the next.

At some point, he turned around—

—Only to see Lu Feng calmly watching him. After being spotted, Lu Feng moved forward a few steps and began collecting water too. An Zhe didn’t understand, but seeing that the colonel seemed serious, he said nothing.

The tunnel stretched ahead, metal tracks running down the middle. They each stayed on one side, quietly filling their buckets.

It was a magnetite mine, rugged all around with signs of excavation. The rock was a damp, gray-black color. In the humid air, even the lanterns’ glow was dimmed to a foggy blur.

Humans might dislike this kind of environment, but An Zhe found the moisture comforting. He even felt the spores inside him rolling happily. Smiling slightly, he gently rubbed his belly, as if responding to them—this place made the spores feel safe.

Following the tracks, the water in his bucket grew heavier. By the time he reached the end of the system, the bucket felt like the heaviest object in the world.

He poured in the last bottle, turned with difficulty—

And found himself facing a long, dark tunnel. The starting point had become a faint glow, like a tiny spark on Mars.

His bucket was terribly heavy. The road long. He had to go back—but at this point, it felt nearly impossible.

An Zhe stood frozen.

Footsteps echoed. Lu Feng approached.

The colonel said, “Can’t move?”

His tone had a slight lilt—almost mocking.

An Zhe didn’t reply. He stared into the darkness, feeling his IQ slowly drain away.

Lu Feng glanced at him. “If you’d walked here first with an empty bucket, then started collecting—”

An Zhe: “.”

He was devastated.

If he’d carried the empty bucket here first, then collected water on the way back, he’d only have had to carry it full one way. But now—he had lugged the increasingly heavy bucket all the way here and would have to lug it all the way back.

And he finally understood why Lu Feng had done nothing when watching him earlier.

This man—this man—

This man had clearly foreseen all of this but said nothing, just watched him work.

An Zhe decided to be angry. He was a mushroom with dignity. So he picked up the incredibly heavy bucket and began marching back, trying to speed up.

But Lu Feng’s legs were long. He easily kept pace. After a dozen steps, the man reached out and pressed his shoulder.

“Look over there,” Lu Feng said.

An Zhe looked sideways.

There, on the tracks, was a two-meter-long pushcart with some ore inside—clearly a mining cart.

Suddenly his hands lightened. Lu Feng had taken his bucket and placed it in the cart, then added his own.

Just as An Zhe thought the colonel simply wanted to conserve energy using a transport tool, he heard him say calmly, “You get in, too.”

An Zhe looked at the cart, hesitating slightly. He had a feeling Lu Feng’s gaze held a hint of amusement, like he wanted to play a strange game.

—In the end, without agreeing or refusing, An Zhe was lifted into the cart by Lu Feng.

The cart was spacious. He sat hugging his knees, back to Lu Feng. The colonel hung the lantern at the front. The cart began slowly rolling forward along the track, the wheels clattering rhythmically in the cave.

Surrounded by rock, the isolated environment was free of danger. The lantern’s yellow glow softly illuminated the path ahead. Occasionally, the mine walls shimmered with faint phosphorescence—like something out of a human fairytale.

An Zhe looked ahead, back resting against the cart. He felt relaxed. Mushrooms were naturally idle and sluggish. Being pushed forward didn’t bother him. He couldn’t see Lu Feng behind him, but somehow just felt that the man was enjoying this too. Mushrooms found joy in laziness. As for what made the colonel happy, An Zhe had no clue.

He stared forward and snorted quietly to himself.