An Zhe could not describe what he was feeling in that moment. Having difficulty breathing, he looked at the four-pointed star badge in his hand.
"If… If there was an Arbiter," he said, "who has always had clarity of mind and always guarded the city gates, and there have never been mistakes in his judgments…"
He suddenly came to a realization, and his voice trembled as he said, "There's nobody who doesn't hate him because other Judges only kill a few dozens of people each year while he kills up to a thousand. In truth… in truth, it's not because he particularly likes shooting. It's because there can be the greatest reduction in mistaken kills only when he shoots."
He understood. He finally understood. With a shiver, he asked Pauli, "What kind of a person would he be?"
Pauli's answer was simpler than he had imagined.
"He would be a lonely person," he said.
Something came plummeting down, striking An Zhe's heart with the force of a tumbling boulder.
For a long while, he could not speak, not until Pauli asked, "What are you thinking about?"
"I…" An Zhe's vision blurred. "I'm thinking about… about…"
He was thinking about Lu Feng.
He had once thought that Lu Feng was cold-hearted, and he had also once admitted that Lu Feng's beliefs were steadfast. He knew that for the illusory fate of humankind, Colonel Lu could give his entire life. He also knew that Lu Feng would suffer and be lonely, but it was only today that he knew exactly what sort of an internally rooted unimaginable colossus the man faced.
He once said that he understood Lu Feng, but it was only at this moment—when he and Lu Feng were many miles apart and would never meet again—that he completely understood Lu Feng.
"I know who the Arbiter you speak of is. Tang Lan mentioned him to me many times. If possible, I really would like to meet him," Pauli said.
"He…" While An Zhe clutched the badge, his tears finally began falling. "He's been the Arbiter for seven years and killed many people… Everyone hates him."
"But he was very good to me." He smiled, but the rims of his eyes felt hot and the tip of his nose was bright red. "In fact, he's very good to everyone."
"You said that you're a monster through and through," Pauli said. "But as an Arbiter, I haven't found any differences between you and humans. What about that Arbiter?"
"He couldn't be certain." An Zhe's fingers trembled slightly, and he looked at the unbroken chain of mountains in the distance. "The first time we met, he spared me."
"Sir," he said, "if the Arbiter spares a xenogenic for the first time, will he do it a second time?"
Pauli only gave him a warm look.
"He also spared me a second time. He spared me many times," An Zhe said. "Later, he knew that I was a xenogenic."
"But…" He wanted to say something, but nothing came out. His heart had been caught in a death grip. He wanted to free himself of this inescapable imprisonment, but he could not.
"I'm sorry…" He recognized that he was utterly incapable of forming a complete sentence. Brokenly, he said, "I… As soon as I think of him, I… want to cry."
Pauli took An Zhe into his arms. "Don't cry, child."
"Live on," he said. "You will see him again."
"I won't see him again." An Zhe grasped Pauli's arm like he was grasping his final lifeline amidst the tempestuous storm of emotion. He couldn't stop his tears from flowing, and in the end, he could only shakily close them and rest his forehead against Pauli's shoulder. "I wish… I wish I hadn't met him at all."
"Why?"
An Zhe couldn't say anything.
"With me, you can say anything, child," Pauli murmured. "There's no need to deceive me, nor is there any need to deceive yourself."
Choking, An Zhe cried even harder. He didn't understand human relationships, but facing Pauli, he seemed to have understood them. It was like he was facing a gentle father, a loving priest, or perhaps a lenient God. Kneeling in the temple of the Lord, he could confess everything, just like any other ordinary person—but in fact it wasn't to any other person or deity, but to himself.
"I…" He opened his mouth, his entire body trembling because of the severe pain and his mind completely blank. He finally crossed the emotional barrier and blurted out, "I want to see him…"
"I want to see him." He repeated the words almost despairingly. "I want to see him, sir. I want to see him. I don't regret leaving him, but I… I regret it so much."
"I know… I know." Pauli gently patted An Zhe's back, comforting him.
"You don't know…" An Zhe said, his words contradicting each other. His emotions were torn to shreds, and grief inundated his soul like an ocean. If the omnipresent pain of yearning killed him, he would not have felt the least bit surprised.
It might've even been a mercy.
"I've lived many decades more than you, child," Pauli said. "You're still young, and there are still too many things you do not know."
"I…" An Zhe blankly lifted his head. He could not make any retort, nor did he have any intention to argue. There really was something accumulating in his chest, unable to be grasped or seen clearly. He couldn't describe it.
He looked past Pauli's shoulder at the boundless night sky and mumbled, "What do I… not know?"
“Ba-thump.”
In the brief silence, An Zhe heard his own heartbeat. He suddenly had the feeling that what Pauli was about to say might change his entire life.
He heard Pauli's breaths.
"You don't know." In the stillness, Pauli said, "That you love him."
An Zhe opened his eyes wide.
In the sky, the aurora fluctuated, its deep green light like a rolling tide. It traveled from south to north, dissipating before being reborn.
He began to tremble violently.
A fierce intuition struck his soul like a shooting star hitting the earth, its glow brightly illuminating everything in the world. He actually didn't know exactly what sort of meaning those three words held, but he knew they were correct.