"Okay, okay, my wife is very generous!" he mumbled, taking another big bite of his steamed bun, and added vaguely, "Before... it was because my mother was around, and you suffered. Now... it's great!"
He swallowed the food in his mouth, looked at Li Xiaocao's no longer hunched back as she busied herself by the stove, and his voice became cheerful, "Women hold up half the sky! In our family, you're in charge, you're in charge! I'm convinced!"
Li Xiaocao was tidying up the stove with her back to him.
Upon hearing Wang Aiguo's last words, she paused slightly in her movements, and a warm smile involuntarily curved her lips upward.
The embers in the stove reflected on her slightly flushed cheeks, and an unprecedented sense of ease and freedom, like the summer night breeze, gently caressed her heart.
This home is no longer the heavy shackle that weighs her down.
——
The main room of Howard's house.
A kerosene lamp was lit on the table, its dim yellow light barely illuminating the small area.
Howard placed the three multigrain steamed buns that Li Xiaocao had brought on the table, and looked at Mingzhao sitting across from him, taking small bites and eating the bun in his hand with great seriousness.
She ate very slowly, as if conducting some kind of precise experiment, chewing with exceptional care, seemingly trying to discern the rough yet simple taste of the grains—a taste she had never experienced before, belonging to the 1970s Earth era.
Howard picked up a steamed bun and took a bite.
"Is it good?" he asked softly.
Mingzhao stopped chewing and looked up at him. Under the light, her eyes were like obsidian immersed in clear water.
She didn't answer immediately, but looked down at the small bite taken out of the steamed bun in her hand, as if she was thinking about how to describe this complex taste experience.
After a few seconds, she looked at Howard again, nodded seriously, and then shook her head.
Then, she stretched out her slender white fingers, pointed to the surface of the steamed bun, then to her throat, and finally frowned slightly.
Howard understood. She was saying: The taste... is unique. It's filling. But... it's a bit dry.
He couldn't help but chuckle softly, his chest trembling slightly. This straightforward and precise description was indeed Mingzhao's style.
"Hmm, the steamed buns are a bit dry, but they're filling." Howard picked up the thermos, poured a bowl of warm water for Mingzhao, and pushed it in front of her. "Drink some water, it'll help you settle down."
Mingzhao obediently picked up the bowl and sipped the water. The dim light outlined her quiet profile, and the pale pink scar on her forehead was faintly visible in the light and shadow.
Howard looked at her, but the tension in his heart did not ease with this moment of peace.
The cold "gaze" that Mingzhao caught in the construction team's eyes, the cautious kindness and "promise" behind Li Xiaocao's simple steamed buns, and the bloody conspiracy that may be hidden behind the truth of Mingzhao's parents' deaths...
Like an undercurrent, it surges silently beneath the seemingly calm summer night in the Great Northern Wilderness.
He picked up the brand-new, thick grid sketchbook on the table and gently pushed it in front of Mingzhao.
“Tomorrow,” his voice was low and steady, carrying a reassuring power, “you can draw whatever you want.”
His gaze swept across the deep night outside the window, finally settling on Mingzhao, his expression one of unwavering protection: "With me here, everything will be alright."
Mingzhao put down the bowl of water and looked up at the smooth cover of the sketchbook.
She reached out, her fingertips gently brushing against the square edges, feeling the unique, reassuring texture of the paper.
Then, she looked up at Howard. The light danced in her clear eyes, illuminating his composed figure.
She didn't speak, but simply nodded again, very lightly. It was as if this gesture carried all the trust she could express at that moment.
The night grew deeper.
The family compound fell into slumber, with only the tireless chirping of summer insects.
——
Days slip by like the summer wind on the ridges of the fields in the Great Northern Wilderness, carrying the scent of soil and grass.
The brand-new red brick toilet in the corner of the residential compound, its walls gradually drying out, exudes a mixed smell of lime and soil, becoming a simple and rustic scene in the small courtyard.
Mingzhao's world, like the newly built walls, was gradually filled with warm outlines by Howard using books, sketchbooks, rocking chairs, and that dazzling red wardrobe.
She spent most of her time curled up in the wicker chair, clutching that thick, brick-like book of "Principles of Mechanics" or a brand-new grid sketchbook, like a silent sponge, frantically absorbing the knowledge of this era.
Howard discovered that she could read incredibly fast. She could understand the principles of some basic physics and chemistry concepts after reading them only once, and she could even apply what she learned to other situations, drawing some diagrams in her sketchbook that he could not understand at all, but which were extremely ingenious in structure.
That day, Howard had just finished a training session and pushed open the door to the house, covered in dust and sweat.
Instead of sitting in the rocking chair reading as usual, Mingzhao squatted in the corner of the main room, with an old canvas spread out in front of him. Scattered on it were parts of Howard's old "Red Lantern" radio: the casing, coil, a few rusty transistors, and several wires of different colors.
She was holding a small, blackened piece of metal in her hand, twirling it between her fingertips as if to feel its texture and degree of wear.
On the sketchbook spread out beside it, a simplified structural diagram of the radio's internal structure was sketched in pencil, with numerous symbols and arrows marked around it, as if analyzing the causes of the malfunction and proposing improvement plans.
Howard paused, looking at the pile of disassembled parts, his eyes twitching involuntarily.
"Zhaozhao..." Howard's voice carried a hint of helplessness and barely perceptible heartache, "You took it apart again?"
Mingzhao looked up at the sound, her face showing no remorse for her mistake, but rather a pure curiosity and… a hint of disdain? She pointed to the scattered parts on the ground, then to the drawing she had made in her sketchbook, and finally to one of the heavily corroded transistors, saying succinctly: “It’s broken. Its efficiency is very low.”
She paused, as if searching for a more accurate word, "waste... energy".
Howard: "..." He walked over, squatted down, looked at the pile of parts, and then looked at the circuit diagram on the drawing book that was exceptionally clear and even marked with theoretical loss values. The slight pain in his heart was instantly replaced by a stronger shock.
He knew she was smart, but he didn't expect her understanding of electronic devices to be so profound that she could accurately "diagnose" faults and criticize inefficiency!
This is a skill that you can't learn just by reading a book!
He took a deep breath, suppressing the turmoil in his heart, and his gaze fell on Mingzhao's clear eyes, which were filled with "this thing is too outdated." A thought suddenly became clear to him—he couldn't let her continue to "secretly do" like this!
Her talent and abilities deserve a broader, safer, and more professional platform!
Just then, a familiar car horn sounded from outside the courtyard, short and powerful.
It was the sound of a military jeep.
Howard's eyes sharpened, and he immediately stood up.
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