Just then, the curtain at number 16 next door was lifted again. Wang Xiufen, who had permed hair, peeked out and immediately saw her daughter-in-law and Mingzhao "confronting" each other across the low wall.
Her shrewd eyes quickly swept over Mingzhao: she noticed that Mingzhao was still wearing the faded old clothes, the same ones from yesterday, with a conspicuous gauze bandage on her forehead, a pale face, a thin frame, and that indifferent, aloof demeanor...
Wang Xiufen chuckled inwardly, but immediately put on a smile even warmer than her daughter-in-law's, raising her voice a few decibels: "Oh! It's Commander Huo's daughter up already? What a diligent person! Have you had breakfast yet? My family just made some cornmeal porridge, would you like to come over and have some to warm your stomach?"
Upon hearing this, Mingzhao turned her head again to look at Wang Xiufen. Her gaze remained calm and unwavering, and she remained silent. She shook her head slightly, and then… her gaze shifted away.
This time, her gaze fell on a few vines climbing the courtyard wall.
Wang Xiufen's enthusiastic smile faltered slightly.
Is this little brat really mute or just pretending? She's so ungrateful! She cursed inwardly, but her voice remained warm and friendly: "Oh dear, what a terrible memory! Commander Huo's daughter is frail; she needs to eat well! Cornmeal porridge won't do!"
As she spoke, she winked at her daughter-in-law.
The young woman understood and quickly carried the spittoon toward the public restroom.
Wang Xiufen leaned against her doorframe, speaking in a voice that was neither too loud nor too soft, just loud enough for Mingzhao on the other side of the low wall to hear: "Xiaocui, hurry back and bring two of those white flour buns from the pot to Commander Huo's new wife! She's probably a city girl, too pampered to eat our coarse grains!"
Her words sounded warm, but the way she dragged out the phrases "from the city" and "precious" gave off a sarcastic and cynical vibe.
How sharp was Mingzhao's perception? Although she was still trying to adapt to the language of this era, the malice in her tone and emotions was a universal language that transcended the stars.
She furrowed her delicate brows slightly. In the interstellar era, malice often accompanies direct attacks or conspiracies. This roundabout, hypocritical verbal probing felt like an inefficient and annoying distraction to her.
She ignored Wang Xiufen, turned around and walked back to the door of her small house. She stood with her back to the courtyard wall, her gaze fixed on the direction of the courtyard gate, as if waiting for someone.
She needed a quiet environment to continue mentally verifying the mechanical model that had been interrupted the previous night. The pointless noise and prying eyes were severely impacting her thinking efficiency.
When Wang Xiufen saw that she actually turned her back to her, her face immediately darkened, and she spat under her breath: "Pah! What a piece of trash! Does she really think she's an official's wife? She can't even speak properly, who is she trying to impress with that face!"
She turned and went back into the house, slamming the curtain shut with a "bang".
A short while later, the young woman named Xiao Cui returned, carrying a bowl with two steaming white steamed buns inside. She walked to the low wall, looked at Ming Zhao who had her back to her, and called out somewhat awkwardly, "Um... little sister? Steamed buns..."
Mingzhao seemed not to hear her, still turning his back to her like a silent statue.
Xiao Cui stood there awkwardly, holding the bowl. Wang Xiufen's voice came from inside the house, impatient: "Bring it back! You're just offering a cold shoulder! They don't want our coarse food!"
Xiao Cui felt as if she had been granted a pardon and quickly took the steamed buns back home.
The courtyard finally regained its temporary tranquility, with only the birdsong of the morning and the soft sound of the wind blowing through the vines remaining.
Mingzhao remained standing at the entrance, gazing in the direction of the courtyard gate.
When will Howard be back? She needs him to take her somewhere—maybe the military or city library, or anywhere she can find books on basic physics and engineering.
She needs to quickly grasp the underlying logic of the "outdated" technology of this era.
As for those prying eyes and sarcastic remarks... they were nothing more than background noise to be filtered out in the face of her powerful and goal-oriented thinking.
She squinted slightly, the morning sunlight outlining her slender yet upright figure.
Mingzhao stood at the door of the small house, like a quiet poplar tree, her gaze fixed intently on the direction of the courtyard gate, completely shielding herself from the prying eyes and sour whispers of Wang Xiufen and her mother-in-law.
The morning breeze ruffled the edge of the gauze on her forehead, bringing a touch of coolness.
Just as her patience was about to run out and she was considering whether to try climbing over the wall to find the book herself, she finally heard familiar footsteps outside the courtyard gate, steady and powerful.
Howard appeared at the doorway.
He carried two stacked aluminum lunch boxes in one hand and a bulging old military green canvas bag in the other. He looked travel-worn, with fine beads of sweat on his forehead, but his eyes remained sharp.
Seeing Mingzhao standing at the door, Howard paused for a moment, then strode into the yard: "You're up? Are you hungry? Come in quickly, breakfast is here."
His voice, clear and bright like the morning air, dispelled the lingering gloom in the courtyard.
Mingzhao's gaze lingered on his face for a moment, then fell on the lunchbox in his hand, and she obediently turned and went into the house.
Howard placed the lunchbox on the table and opened it. This time it contained steaming hot millet porridge, golden and glistening, exuding a rich aroma of grains, along with two soft white steamed buns and a dish of finely shredded pickled vegetables.
He pushed the porridge and steamed buns in front of Mingzhao, while his own portion was simpler, consisting only of porridge and steamed buns.
"Eat quickly, it'll upset your stomach if it gets cold," Howard urged, then sat down himself, picked up a steamed bun, and took a big bite, clearly hungry as well.
Mingzhao didn't stand on ceremony. She picked up the spoon and sipped the warm millet porridge. The warmth slid down her throat, soothing her empty stomach. She ate with focused concentration and quiet.
Howard ate while glancing at her out of the corner of his eye. Overnight, her complexion seemed a little better; though still pale, the deep weariness in her eyes had lessened somewhat. He thought of his early morning rush and felt a subtle sense of accomplishment welling up inside him.
“I swept the yard again this morning,” Howard said in a low voice, as if reporting a task, “and then I went to the carpentry workshop in the family compound’s logistics department.”
He paused, a hint of barely perceptible anticipation in his voice, "I ordered a bigger wooden bed, sturdy and quiet. I also ordered a new desk, bigger than this old one, for you to read. And a few chairs, so there's somewhere for everyone when they come over."
He pointed to the only old chair in the room.
Mingzhao paused in her porridge and looked up at him. A new bed? A new desk? She didn't feel anything; the old one was enough for her.
However, if he's willing to take the plunge, she won't object.
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