Chapter 13 Exploration and Observation
The blizzard continued for five days, finally showing signs of fatigue, but the extreme cold of minus forty degrees Celsius still firmly locked the world in place. Outside the fortress was a deathly, pure white hell, while inside, a constant glimmer of light and order were maintained. Only within this order, there was a gentle variable—Su Ran.
Wen Yu did not lower his guard because of a delicious meal. On the contrary, he acted like a programmed, sophisticated instrument, placing Su Ran's existence in the "needs close observation and evaluation" sequence.
The areas where Su Ran was allowed to move around—the guest rooms, part of the second-floor corridor, the first-floor kitchen, dining room and the adjacent small living room, as well as the eco-friendly sunroom—were all under constant surveillance. Wen Yu spent even more time in the control room, with several fixed images on the screen wall always focused on Su Ran.
The observations began at dawn.
At 6:30, Su Ran opened the guest room door on time. He was always impeccably dressed; even the slightly oversized loungewear provided by Wen Yu was carefully tidied, with the collar and cuffs perfectly aligned. His hair seemed to have been thoroughly combed with cold water, the soft black hair lying flat against his forehead, revealing a section of smooth, fair skin.
The simulated morning light shone through the room's landscape screen, casting a soft glow on his delicate profile, his long eyelashes casting faint shadows beneath his eyes. He moved very quietly, almost tiptoeing out of the room, gently closing the door behind him, as if afraid to disturb the silence of this massive fortress.
Wen Yu leaned back in the high-backed chair at the control panel, a cup of black coffee beside him, his gaze calmly following the monitor screen. Today he was wearing a dark gray turtleneck sweater and matching trousers, which accentuated his tall and slightly slender figure.
Several days of high alert and coordination had left faint dark circles under his eyes, but his gaze remained as sharp as tempered ice. His nose was high and straight, and his lips were habitually pursed, devoid of emotion. His short, black hair was somewhat disheveled, which only added to his cold and unapproachable aura.
Su Ran went downstairs and headed straight for the kitchen. He didn't turn on the main light, but only turned on the spotlights in the countertop area. A warm yellow glow enveloped his slender figure.
He began preparing breakfast. He took eggs and bacon from the refrigerator and oatmeal from the cupboard. His movements were fluid and quiet, with only the slight clinking of the cookware and the soft sizzling of the ingredients hitting the pan.
Wen Yu noticed that Su Ran adapted to the advanced equipment in the kitchen with astonishing speed. The smart induction cooker panel, which he had to fumble with a bit yesterday, he could now skillfully switch between power modes; and the multi-functional steam oven, he could accurately set the time and temperature after just one glance at the electronic menu. He treated these expensive appliances with an almost precious care, meticulously wiping them before and after each use.
At seven o'clock sharp, breakfast was ready. It wasn't just a simple perfunctory meal: a perfectly fried sunny-side-up egg, two slices of crispy fried bacon, a small bowl of thick oatmeal porridge cooked in milk, and a small dish of salad that Su Ran had made herself using leftover cherry tomatoes and cucumbers. The plating was simple yet thoughtful, and the color combination was appetizing.
Su Ran placed the breakfast on the small table in the dining room and set out the cutlery. Then he stepped aside without sitting down, waiting quietly. Only when Wen Yu appeared at the dining room door did he nod slightly and say softly, "Mr. Wen, breakfast is ready."
Wen Yu walked in. He was considerably taller than Su Ran, and his approach brought an invisible sense of pressure. He wasn't wearing a coat today; his turtleneck sweater clung to his long neck, making his broad shoulders and long legs appear even more prominent.
He glanced at the breakfast on the table, then looked at Su Ran, who was standing to the side with her hands at her sides.
Su Ran lowered his eyes, his thick eyelashes like two small fans casting faint shadows beneath them. The heat from the kitchen gave his cheeks and the tip of his nose a pale pink hue; his skin was almost translucent under the light, revealing the fine blue veins beneath. He wore a loose, off-white sweater, the collar slightly askew, revealing a slender, fair collarbone.
"Sit down and eat with us," Wen Yu said calmly, pulling out a chair.
Su Ran seemed to hesitate for a moment before responding in a low voice. She sat down opposite Wen Yu, still only sitting on one side of the chair, her back straight.
The meal was almost entirely silent. Wen Yu ate slowly and carefully, chewing each bite thoroughly, his gaze occasionally glancing at Su Ran across from him. Su Ran ate even slower, taking small bites and making almost no sound; her movements were almost excessively refined.
He rarely took food with him, spending most of his time slowly drinking his porridge. Wen Yu noticed that his fingers, which held chopsticks, were slender and long, with distinct knuckles and neatly trimmed nails—hands perfectly suited for playing the piano or… holding a knife.
After breakfast, Su Ran immediately got up to tidy up. Wen Yu didn't stop him, watching as he took the dishes to the kitchen, turned on the dishwasher, carefully arranged them, and then began to wipe down the stove and countertop.
His movements were unhurried and meticulous, taking care of every corner. After he finished, the kitchen was spotless, as if no one had ever used it.
For the rest of the day, Su Ran "worked" in his own way. He proactively inquired about Wen Yu's preferences for lunch and dinner, and then immersed himself in his own rhythm. He spent a lot of time in the kitchen researching the stored ingredients, flipping through the several thick cookbooks that Wen Yu had hoarded, and occasionally pondering over certain rare seasonings or dried goods.
In the afternoon, after obtaining Wen Yu's consent, he even began to organize the kitchen storage area. He repackaged some easily damp spices into airtight jars and labeled them with homemade tags; he moved food that was about to expire to a more accessible location; and based on his understanding, he reorganized the placement of some tableware and kitchen utensils to make the workflow more efficient.
Wen Yu watched all this through the monitor, his fingers unconsciously tapping the edge of the control panel. Su Ran's behavior was almost deliberately obedient and well-behaved. He didn't try to inquire about anything related to the fortress, the apocalypse, or Wen Yu's past.
His world seemed to be confined to the kitchen and those few dishes, where he used his diligence and skills to carefully maintain a certain "equivalent exchange"—a balance between receiving and serving.
But Wen Yu also noticed some interesting details. Su Ran had an extremely high sensitivity to food.
Once, Wen Yu took a vacuum-packed bag of shrimp from the freezer. Su Ran took it, gently squeezed it, and smelled it (the packaging was still unopened). Then, she looked up, a hint of caution in her beautiful black eyes, and said softly, "Mr. Wen, this... might have been frozen for a bit too long, and there are quite a few ice crystals on the outside, so the texture might be a little off. If you don't mind, I'd like to use them to make shrimp and egg stir-fry first, to balance it out with a stronger flavor?"
Wen Yu simply nodded, but a thought flickered in his mind. That bag of shrimp was indeed something he had stockpiled earlier, though the storage conditions weren't perfect. Could Su Ran really judge based solely on the feel of the outer packaging and a very subtle smell?
Another time, when Su Ran was processing a can of luncheon meat, he didn't slice it directly like most people would. Instead, he first seared all four sides of the can over low heat to render out some of the oil before slicing and frying it. He explained quietly as he did so, "This way, it's less oily, the surface is crispy and fragrant, and the inside is still tender. Plus, it extends the shelf life a bit..."
He noticed Wen Yu looking at him, and his voice immediately lowered, his ears turning slightly red.
These subtle details are not something a typical chef trained in "domestic service" would possess. It reflects a deeper understanding of food characteristics and storage, stemming from experience and instinct, and even... a touch of wisdom gained during times of scarcity.
What surprised Wen Yu even more was Su Ran's interest and talent in planting.
That afternoon, Wen Yu went to the eco-friendly sunroom to check on the seedlings he had planted. Pushing open the door, he found Su Ran inside. He was squatting in a corner, his back to the door, with several clean, discarded plastic containers in front of him, seemingly found from somewhere.
He filled the container with some old substrate scraped from the planting rack and mixed with earthworm castings, then took out a few cloves of garlic and a few scallions with roots (obviously from his precious "legacy") from his pocket, carefully buried them, gently pressed them down, and then picked up the small spray bottle next to him and sprayed a fine mist of water.
Sunlight (simulated by fill lights) streamed through the glass roof and fell on him. He was wearing light gray cotton trousers and a beige sweater, and he looked very small as he squatted there.
His soft black hair cascaded down his neck, revealing a long, slender, fair nape. He was completely absorbed in his work, his profile gentle, a tiny speck of mud even clinging to the tip of his nose, unnoticed by him. His long eyelashes drooped, his gaze fixed on the newly planted garlic cloves and scallions, his eyes unusually gentle, even carrying an almost reverent expectation.
That expression was completely different from his usual cautious and meek demeanor; it was as if only when facing these silently growing lives could he reveal a bit of his true, vivid self.
Wen Yu stood at the doorway, not immediately going in. He leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed. Today he was wearing a black work shirt, sleeves rolled up to his elbows, revealing muscular forearms with a cool-toned white complexion. His tall figure almost blocked most of the light from the doorway, casting a shadow behind Su Ran.
Su Ran seemed to sense something and turned around abruptly. Seeing Wen Yu, she flinched like a startled animal, quickly stood up, and awkwardly tried to block the few simple containers. A blush rose on her face: "Mr. Wen! I'm sorry, I... I saw some waste and space here... so I thought I'd try planting some scallions and garlic... They'll grow quickly, don't take up much space, and can add flavor... I, I'll clean them up right away..."
He was speaking incoherently, clearly worried that he had angered his master by acting on his own initiative.
Wen Yu's gaze swept over his flushed cheeks and the cute little mud stain on the tip of his nose, and landed on the few simple but neat "potted plants".
The garlic cloves were buried at the right depth, the scallion roots were all pointing in the same direction, and the soil moisture seemed just right. He didn't say anything, but went straight to his relatively "professional" planting rack to check the growth of the lettuce and tomato seedlings. The lettuce seedlings were a bit weak, and the tomato seedlings seemed to be growing too tall and thin.
"These," he said, pointing to his seedlings, his voice devoid of emotion, "are not growing well."
Su Ran paused for a moment, then secretly glanced at Wen Yu's expression. Seeing that he didn't seem angry, she mustered her courage, took a small step forward, and whispered, "The lettuce... the grow light might be a bit too far away, so there's not enough light, and the nutrient solution ratio... seems to be a little too high in nitrogen, making the leaves prone to yellowing and weakness. The tomato seedlings... is the temperature difference between day and night not big enough? They're growing a bit too long, which might affect the later fruiting..."
He spoke very cautiously, pausing after each sentence to observe Wen Yu's reaction.
Wen Yu turned his head, his deep gaze falling on Su Ran's face. Su Ran felt a little uncomfortable under his gaze, her eyelashes trembled rapidly a few times, and she lowered her head again, her fingers unconsciously clutching the hem of her clothes.
"You understand this?" Wen Yu asked.
"Before… I just planted things haphazardly on the balcony, and after reading some books…" Su Ran's voice became even softer, "and… I failed many times."
Wen Yu was silent for a moment. Then, he pointed to the planting rack: "Since you've figured it out, try adjusting it. Make a list of what you need." After saying that, he stopped looking at Su Ran and turned to leave the sunroom.
Su Ran stood there, seemingly still reeling from the sudden "authorization." He watched Wen Yu's tall and upright figure disappear through the doorway, and after a long while, he slowly blinked, a faint but genuine joy creeping into the corners of his eyes and brows.
He turned around and looked more intently at the seedlings, then at his own pots of scallions and garlic, as if he had found a new and recognized value in them.
At dinner, Su Ran clearly put more thought into the dishes she served.
A stir-fried shrimp dish made with reprocessed shrimp, the shrimp indeed had a much firmer texture; a "modified" luncheon meat fried rice dish made with canned luncheon meat, potatoes and green peas, the rice grains were distinct and the luncheon meat was caramelized; and a small bowl of bok choy soup made with the tenderest lettuce hearts picked today.
He even used those few cherry tomatoes to make a simple tomato salad with sugar, sprinkling a little bit of his own treasured mint leaf scraps (also a legacy from his balcony).
Wen Yu ate quietly. The shrimp was stir-fried to perfection, the luncheon meat fried rice was fragrant but not greasy, the bok choy in broth was refreshing, and the tomato salad with sugar was sweet and sour and appetizing. Each dish showed the chef's careful adjustments. He didn't offer any praise, but he ate more than usual.
After the meal, Su Ran cleaned up as usual. Wen Yu didn't immediately return to the control room, but sat in the dining room, watching his busy figure. Su Ran seemed to sense his gaze, and her movements became even gentler and more meticulous.
Under the dim light, his slender waist was outlined in a soft curve by the loose sweater, his drooping neck had a beautiful line, and his black hair swayed gently with his movements.
The vigilance remained. There were too many suspicious things about this handsome young man who had suddenly barged in: the timing was too coincidental, his rapid adaptation to the fortress environment, and his unusual sensitivity and knowledge of food and planting... Wen Yu was not naive enough to think that this was just because of "interest" or "training".
But undeniably, Su Ran's presence did bring a very subtle change to this cold and solid fortress.
The air is filled with the aroma of food, the sunroom is filled with a clumsy yet persistent greenery, and the deathly silence is broken by the soft footsteps and the clattering of dishes.
More importantly, Su Ran was carefully and continuously proving his "usefulness" in the only way he was good at. This "usefulness" was not just about cooking a meal, but also about his meticulous management of resources and careful observation of planting. In the apocalypse, this was a talent more precious than gold.
Risk and value are slowly being weighed on the scales of Wenyu.
After Su Ran finished tidying up and dried his hands, he turned around and was startled to find Wen Yu still there. He straightened up, clasped his hands in front of him, and asked softly, "Mr. Wen, is there anything else you need?"
Wen Yu raised his eyes, his gaze sweeping over the clear eyes that held a hint of unease, over the mud that had gotten on the tip of his nose that hadn't been completely wiped off that afternoon (it was dry now), and finally landing on his cheeks that were slightly red from working.
"It's nothing." Wen Yu stood up, his voice still calm. "I want noodles for breakfast tomorrow."
Su Ran's eyes lit up slightly, and she immediately nodded: "Okay, Mr. Wen. Would you like soup noodles or dry noodles? Do you have any preferred flavors?"
"You decide what to do." Wen Yu said, then turned and left the restaurant, heading towards the corridor leading to the control room. His tall and solitary figure quickly blended into the colder, more rigid light and shadow deep within the fortress.
Su Ran stood there, looking in the direction Wen Yu had disappeared, and let out a soft sigh. He raised his hand and touched the tip of his nose, only to find a bit of dried mud on it, and his face flushed even redder. He quickly ran to the kitchen mirror and vigorously wiped it off.
Then, he went back to the sunroom, and under the soft light of the grow light, squatted down in front of his pots of scallions and garlic, spraying them with a little more water. Looking at the moist soil, he muttered softly, almost to himself, "I hope they grow quickly..."
The sound was so soft that only he could hear it.
Outside the fortress lies eternal cold and deathly silence. Inside, a silent probing and observation unfolds quietly between the cold, solid walls and the gentle, meticulous wisdom of survival.