The soup was still steaming. Chen Hao took a sip and put the bowl on the table.

"Mom, if you had made this delicious meal ten years ago, I might not have gone to space."

His mother laughed and tapped his hand with a spoon, "Stop being silly, have another bowl."

She turned to ladle soup from the pot and casually placed a piece of pork rib on Susan's plate. Susan looked down at the mountain of food piled in her bowl, her fingers gently gripping her chopsticks, but she didn't move.

"Eat up," the mother said. "Don't be shy, you'll be able to eat this every day from now on."

Carl sat on the other side, his bowl already refilled three times. He ate slowly, but without stopping. With each swallow, his Adam's apple bobbed, as if confirming the taste was authentic.

Nana stood in the corner, camera slightly lowered, recording the temperature changes on the dining table. Her voice suddenly rang out: "Based on nutritional intake estimates, the current average calorie intake per person has reached 150% of daily consumption."

Chen Hao turned to look at her, "Can you shut up? You're making this a perfectly good atmosphere sound like a medical report."

Everyone at the table laughed. Even Carl's lips twitched.

The father sat opposite, having said little until now, when he picked up his teacup and took a sip. "You guys...are you really alright on the way?"

"Nothing happened?" Chen Hao's eyes widened. "I almost got cooked by alien ants for lunch."

"Really?" The mother paused, her spoon still in her hand.

“It’s fake.” Chen Hao grinned. “But it’s true that the lizard stole my compressed biscuits. That thing looks like a mop, and it jumps three feet high. Nana thought it was an enemy attack, so she activated the defense system, and ended up spraying us with foam.”

Susan finally looked up and asked softly, "That time... was it the time you fell into the sandpit?"

"Yes!" Chen Hao slammed his fist on the table. "I rolled down, my mouth full of sand. Nana even calmly announced: 'Non-combat fall detected, oral cavity clearing recommended.'"

Nana added, "At the time, the three of them had white cleansing foam covering their faces, and the video footage showed a comical index of 8.7."

"What is the 'funny index'?" the father laughed.

“I set it up.” Chen Hao pointed to his head. “She said that when people laugh, their eyebrows will rise by 0.3 centimeters, and their mouths will open to an angle of more than 60 degrees to be considered a big laugh. The three of us exceeded the limit that day.”

Carl put down his chopsticks and stared at the table for two seconds. "The wind was particularly strong that night, and the tent was swaying as if it were about to fly away. But I slept the most soundly that night."

Everyone fell silent for a moment.

The mother said softly, "No matter how fierce the wind blows outside, there will be a roof to shelter you when you get home."

Carl didn't reply, he just stirred the rice in his bowl and continued eating.

Susan slowly picked up a piece of tofu and put it in her mouth. She chewed very slowly, as if savoring something long forgotten.

“I used to…” she said softly, “always afraid I wouldn’t be able to come back.”

“I’m back now,” Chen Hao said. “Look, my dad didn’t even change the recipe for braised pork; it’s still as salty as ever.”

"What do you know?" the father scoffed. "Even a second off is unacceptable."

"It's only homey when it's so salty." Chen Hao picked up a big mouthful and put it in his mouth, deliberately smacking his lips. "Where else can you find this taste? I'd be willing to die from how salty it is."

His mother was about to put more food on his plate, but he quickly covered the bowl with his hand.

"No, no, no, if you put it any more in, it'll come out of your ears."

"Eat more," her mother insisted. "You've lost weight."

"I've gained weight." Chen Hao said, sticking out his belly. "The food on the space station is all synthetic rations, with very little oil. I feel like crying whenever I see fatty meat now."

Carl said in a low voice, "I want to cry too, if I don't get a proper meal soon."

As soon as he said that, the room burst into laughter again.

Nana suddenly said, "The 97th eating record shows that traditional Earth cooking methods can significantly improve group emotional stability."

"You still remember this?" Chen Hao turned his head. "You might as well write a 'Human Eating Observation Diary'."

“A first draft is already available,” Nana replied. “The chapters include: the psychological suggestion of picking up food with chopsticks, the comforting mechanism of elders repeatedly adding rice, and the inhibitory effect of dinner table jokes on stress hormones.”

"Listen to this." Chen Hao raised his hand to his parents, "Our family's paper on robotics was published today."

The father coughed twice with a laugh, and the mother wiped her eyes and said, "Then write it more clearly, and I'll give you an extra bowl next time you come to eat."

Susan then spoke up: "At night... I often dream of this land."

Everyone quieted down.

She looked down at the bowl in her hands, her fingertips tracing the rim in circles. "I dreamt of the well in front of my house, and the crooked tree in the backyard. When I woke up, I realized that the sound of the wind in my dream was in sync with the ventilation system of the spaceship."

Her mother reached out and gently patted the back of her hand. "The dream is back, and the person is back too."

Susan nodded, pursed her lips, and her eyes brightened slightly.

Carl looked up at the roof, where the old ceiling fan hung silently, covered in dust. "We don't have wells or trees there," he said. "Just metal walls and circulating air."

“There’s a well now,” Chen Hao said, pointing outside. “Do you want to go down and fetch some water to wash your face? I guarantee it’ll be so cold you’ll question your existence.”

"Wait a minute," Carl said. "Let me finish this bowl of rice first."

He spoke in a normal tone, but after he finished speaking, he actually reached out and ladled another spoonful for himself.

His father looked at him without saying a word, but quietly handed him the tea from his cup.

Chen Hao wiped his mouth and leaned back in his chair. "Actually, the most outrageous thing was that time we crossed the storm belt. The engine was about to explode, Nana was fixing the system while reading the manual, Karl was smashing the control panel with a wrench, Susan was shouting out parameters from the back, and I was singing military songs in the driver's seat to bolster my courage."

“You’re singing off-key,” Susan said.

“That’s called artistic freedom,” Chen Hao retorted. “Besides, Nana even recorded it.”

All eyes turned to Nana.

“The audio file has been archived,” Nana said calmly. “Number: Homecoming_Entertainment_003. The content is an off-key version of ‘The Voyager’s Song,’ lasting four minutes and twenty-three seconds.”

"Deleted!" Chen Hao jumped up.

“It cannot be deleted,” Nana said. “It’s part of the mission data.”

"You're settling a personal score while on official business."

"I'm just enforcing the data retention agreement."

The laughter inside grew even louder. Even the father's shoulders shook with laughter, and the mother was panting, leaning on the edge of the table.

Carl suddenly said, "Back then you sang louder than an air raid siren."

“That’s psychological warfare,” Chen Hao said smugly. “Noise suppresses fear.”

“I managed to suppress it.” Susan nodded. “After that, I wasn’t afraid anymore.”

"Look," Chen Hao said, shrugging. "A lousy song boosted the team's morale; it was worth it."

His mother stood up again to clear the empty bowls, but Chen Hao stopped her. "I'll do it, you rest for a while."

He stacked the bowls together, got up, and walked towards the kitchen. As he passed Carl, he casually patted him on the shoulder.

"How about it? This meal is better than space food, isn't it?"

“Strong,” Carl said, “but a bit too salty.”

"You'll get used to it," Chen Hao laughed. "That's just how my mom is; she can't change it."

The mother followed her in to help, wiping her hands in front of the stove. "What...are you planning to do in the future?"

"Go to sleep." Chen Hao put the bowl in the sink. "Sleep for three days."

I mean in the long term.

Chen Hao stopped what he was doing. "I haven't thought about it yet. Let's get back alive first, then we'll talk about other things."

The mother nodded. "It's good that you're back. As long as you have a place to stay and food to eat, you can get by."

“I’m definitely not moving,” Chen Hao said. “This house may be old, but I’ve grown attached to it because of the peeling paint.”

“You drew tanks on this wall when you were little,” the mother said. “I’ve tried to scrape it off three times, but I still couldn’t get it clean.”

“That’s a military base,” Chen Hao argued. “A strategic location.”

Outside the kitchen, Susan slowly stood up and walked to the living room window. The night was deep, and the yard was pitch black except for a lamp lit under the eaves.

She reached out and pushed open the window. The wind immediately blew in, carrying the scent of earth and grass.

Nana walked over and stood next to her. "The air quality is stable, and the wind speed is moderate, making it suitable for breathing at night."

“I know,” Susan said softly, “I just…want to hear the wind.”

Nana didn't say anything more, and the camera turned to the window, simultaneously recording the airflow trajectory.

After finishing his last bite, Carl neatly arranged his chopsticks on the bowl. He stood up, walked to the sink, and took the dishcloth from Chen Hao.

“I’ll wash it,” he said.

"You can wash dishes?" Chen Hao raised an eyebrow.

“We’ll shower every day on the spaceship.” Carl turned on the tap. “We can’t let the robots do everything.”

"Then you'd better be careful." Chen Hao took a step back. "My mom has used this rag for five years. Its sterilization ability is comparable to a radiation chamber."

“Perfect.” Carl rubbed the bowl. “I need a disinfection treatment.”

The mother laughed and scolded from the side, "Can't you two be serious for once?"

The family sat down together again. The father brewed some fresh tea and poured it into several rough porcelain cups. The rising steam warmed their faces.

Chen Hao picked up the cup and took a sip. "Ouch, it's hot."

"Blow on it," the mother said.

He did as instructed, and then grinned.

Outside the door, the dog barked once more, then quickly fell silent again.

Nana's log updates automatically:

[Event: Family gathering]

[Emotional fluctuation level: High]

[Key behavioral records: picked up food 12 times, laughed 7 times, and the number of people who spoke up increased from two to four]

[Conclusion: Social integration progress reached 86%, and full adaptation is expected to be completed within 24 hours]

She took a half step back, stood against the wall, and the camera slowly panned across everyone's faces.

Chen Hao was telling another story, gesturing wildly. Susan smiled with her head down, occasionally interjecting. Carl sat in the corner, holding a teacup, listening without looking down again.

The mother leaned on the father's shoulder, her eyes crinkled with fine lines, but her lips were upturned.

Her father gently took her hand.

Chen Hao stopped mid-sentence and looked at Karl.

"Hey, do you remember? The first time we met, you said that a slacker like me shouldn't even be on a spaceship."