Howard squatted down in front of her and turned the radio volume to a suitable level, letting the clear and standard Mandarin flow out continuously.

He pointed to the radio, then to his ears and mouth, and spoke slowly and clearly, word by word.

"listen."

"study."

"explain."

His gaze was no longer the cold scrutiny of before, nor the clumsy concern, but a power of encouragement and firm guidance, like a lighthouse illuminating the way for lost souls in a storm.

“From today onwards, we will…learn together.” Howard’s voice was deep and powerful, carrying an undeniable promise. “First we’ll learn to speak, then…learn to read.”

Mingzhao stared at him blankly, then looked at the radio that was continuously emitting standard syllables.

The clear words flowed like sweet spring water into her parched and chaotic mind. Although she couldn't understand the specific content, the standard pronunciation and clear rhythm were exactly the "language template" she needed at that moment!

It was as if, beneath layers of ice of despair, this sound had carved out a crack.

A faint glimmer of light rekindled in her empty eyes.

Howard felt a little more at ease when he saw the glimmer of light that had rekindled in her eyes.

He picked up the book "Fundamentals of Mechanical Principles" from the floor, dusted it off, closed it, and placed it in the farthest corner of his desk.

“No rush,” he said firmly. “We’ll take it one step at a time.”

He helped Mingzhao up and sat her down at the desk.

On the radio, the announcer was broadcasting news of a bumper agricultural harvest with great enthusiasm.

Howard pulled over the old chair and sat down beside her, like a most patient teacher, pointing to the radio and slowly repeating the simplest words along with the clear pronunciation:

"China."

"people."

"broadcast."

Mingzhao watched his lip movements, listened to the standard pronunciation beside her ear and the voice from the radio, and tried her best to imitate him. A broken and indistinct syllable squeezed out of her lips with difficulty: "...Guang..."

Howard's eyes instantly lit up with immense surprise and encouragement! He nodded vigorously: "Yes! Broadcast! Broadcast!"

Outside the window, dusk was falling.

Inside the small house, the radio's loud and clear sound, accompanied by the man's deep and patient reading and the girl's difficult yet stubborn imitation, intertwined to create a peculiar melody of a beginner struggling on the edge of suspicion and hope.

But deep in Howard's heart, the heavy vigilance and suspicion behind the huge mystery, like a lurking beast, had not left; it was just temporarily covered by the teaching voice.

As he taught, he used his keenest senses to observe Mingzhao's every subtle reaction. For example, was her focus when she imitated genuine? Was her curiosity about the radio stemming from a thirst for knowledge, or... something else?

The cracks in trust already exist, and the barrier of written communication is becoming a more complex and difficult obstacle between them than the espionage suspicions.

In any case, Mingzhao's illiteracy did make Howard lower his guard to some extent.

The clear and articulate voice of the radio broadcasting the news, along with Howard's deep and patient reading aloud, became the regular background noise in the courtyard of No. 17 every morning.

Mingzhao was like a dried-up sponge, greedily absorbing every clear syllable. Her imitation was still awkward and difficult, but she could already repeat simple words like "China," "people," "broadcast," and "study" in a broken and breathy voice, and a focused light rekindled in her eyes.

Howard taught her while observing her with his keenest senses.

Her focus was so pure and unadulterated that her thirst for knowledge almost overflowed from her clear eyes.

The despair and collapse that came from learning that he was illiterate seemed to be temporarily suppressed by this new enthusiasm for learning.

However, the string of "vigilance" in Howard's heart never loosened. The inexplicable contradiction in Mingzhao, his top-notch graphic comprehension and complete illiteracy, was like a heavy shadow, always hovering in Howard's mind.

The peace was abruptly shattered the following morning.

Howard was processing documents at the regimental headquarters when the military telephone on his desk suddenly rang, its shrill ring shattering the office's tranquility.

He grabbed the microphone, and Jiang Feng's cold, serious, and unquestionable voice came through:

"Howard! Go back to your family compound immediately! Someone has come to your house with a formal complaint letter to take someone away! It's about Mingzhao! Act fast!"

"What?!" Howard jumped to his feet, the chair legs scraping the floor with a sharp, grating sound! His face instantly turned ashen, a surge of cold anger and anxiety rising to his head! A formal complaint?

He didn't have time to ask further, nor did he need to. Jiang Feng's tone already said it all!

He slammed down the phone, not even having time to say a word to the guard at the door, grabbed his hat and rushed out!

The Jeep's engine roared, its tires kicking up dust, as it sped towards the family compound like a madman!

The atmosphere in front of Gate 17 of Xiangyang Courtyard was tense.

Two security officers in dark blue uniforms, with stern expressions, were standing at the door of the small house.

One of them was holding a folded piece of paper, which was Wang Xiufen's crooked "masterpiece".

Wang Xiufen herself stood at her own door, her face showing an undisguised excitement and pride, and a pretentious air of righteousness as she introduced herself to the unsuspecting people.

"He's about to get arrested! I always knew this guy wasn't a good person; he never says a word, just stays in his room scribbling and drawing all sorts of random things..."

The door to the cabin was open, and Mingzhao stood inside, her face paler than usual, the gauze on her forehead particularly glaring.

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