Howard pushed a slightly worn bicycle with Mingzhao sitting on the back seat as he slowly drove into a residential area.
The houses here are older than those in Huang Weiguo's village. Most are single-story houses with courtyards built of gray bricks, and the walls are mottled, bearing the marks of time.
Occasionally, people in military uniforms or civilian clothes would walk by, curiously observing the pair—the aloof and upright Commander Huo, and the pale, thin girl in the back seat of his car, with a wound on her forehead and wearing ill-fitting old clothes.
“Ahem,” Howard stopped in front of a small courtyard with a wooden sign that read “Xiangyang Courtyard No. 17”. While parking his car, he said somewhat apologetically, “We’re in a rush, and there are no vacancies in the newly built tenement buildings. This old courtyard is the only one that’s available. It’s a bit old and small, with only two rooms and a tiny kitchen. Will you make do with it for now? If… if you don’t like it, I’ll try to get you transferred to an apartment building later.”
He pushed open the wooden door, which had some paint chips on it.
The courtyard was small, with a compacted earthen floor and a few tenacious weeds growing in the corner.
Directly opposite the door was a slightly larger main room, with a small, low kitchen next to it. The house did look quite old; the windowpanes were covered in a layer of dust.
"I'll take care of these later."
Mingzhao stood in the courtyard, carrying her small canvas bag, calmly surveying her surroundings.
Old? Small? These were not issues to her at all.
In the league, to adapt to the extreme environment, she worked for months at a time in a smaller, more rudimentary mobile laboratory.
Here, at least there are sturdy walls, a roof that shelters you from the wind and rain, and a separate room that is well-ventilated and has light... Most importantly, there are no fists or harsh curses from Li Hongmei that could fall at any moment.
Yes, although it was only three days, Mingzhao endured it very hard.
At that moment, she even felt that the few weeds in the corner exuded a tenacious vitality. This was so much better than the small, dark room and the disinfectant-smelling ward she had been in before.
She turned her head and shook her head slightly at Howard, who was unlocking the main door. The gesture was small, but the meaning was clear: no need to change, this place is fine.
Howard saw her shake her head, paused for a moment, and then suddenly understood what she meant. He felt a sense of relief, followed by an indescribable feeling.
This girl is... too easily satisfied? Or has hardship reduced her material desires to a minimum?
He opened the door to the main room, and a musty smell of dust from a long period of neglect hit him. The room was small and sparsely furnished: a wooden bed, an old desk, a chair, and a wooden wardrobe with peeling paint. Some odds and ends were piled in the corner. The windows were small, and the light was dim.
"This is the bedroom, you can stay here. I'll clean up the small room next door and use it as a study. I'll buy a cot and sleep there later."
Howard rubbed his hands nervously. As a grown man, he wasn't really good at arranging things. "The bedding is all new; I got it yesterday. The kitchen has some basic pots and pans, rice, flour, and oil too. It's just... it's just that I can't cook, so you might have to eat in the cafeteria..."
For the first time, Howard felt that he was being a really... outrageous "husband".
“If I have time, I’ll cook for you… If I don’t have time, I’ll get your meals from the cafeteria and bring them to you every day.”
Mingzhao, however, seemed not to hear the embarrassment in the second half of his sentence.
She walked into the room, her gaze sweeping over the wooden bed covered with brand-new army green sheets, and then looking at the window that let in a faint light.
Then, she walked to the desk, stretched out her uninjured hand, and gently brushed her fingertips across the surface, leaving a clear mark that revealed the dark wood grain underneath.
A strange sense of security quietly grew in this simple space. This was her new "base".
She turned to face Howard, who stood in the doorway, tall but seemingly at a loss. Sunlight streamed through the doorframe, outlining his golden silhouette.
She opened her mouth. Her throat was dry, and her vocal cords felt like rusty gears, grinding together with difficulty. She tried to recall the sounds she had been frantically absorbing and imitating over the past two days.
A very faint, breathy, and even somewhat indistinct syllable was uttered with great difficulty from her chapped lips:
"Thanks……"
The sound was as soft as a feather falling to the ground.
But in this quiet little house, it was like a thunderclap!
Howard froze completely!
He abruptly raised his head, his usually calm and sharp eyes now wide open, filled with unbelievable shock! He stared intently at Mingzhao's lips, as if what he had just heard was a hallucination!
She spoke?!
She's not mute?!
What...what did she say?
"Thanks"?!
Gong Zhu's diagnostic report, Li Hongmei's long-term cursing of "mute," the silence during the National Security Bureau's questioning, and the silence he witnessed with his own eyes...
All the information points to one conclusion: Mingzhao suffered severe psychological trauma due to long-term abuse and lost his ability to speak!
But now… she actually spoke?! Although her voice was weak and indistinct, he heard those two words clearly!
The immense shock left Howard's mind blank for a moment. He stared at the still pale and thin girl before him, the gauze on her forehead glaringly conspicuous.
Her clear gaze calmly met his, devoid of the previous fear and confusion, replaced only by a sense of... a subtle relief after completing an important task.
Was she thanking him? Thanking him for bringing her out? Thanking him for this simple shelter?
Howard's heart felt as if it had been struck hard by something, a mix of soreness, tremor, and an indescribable...thrill. His Adam's apple bobbed, a thousand words stuck in his chest, ultimately culminating in a somewhat clumsy, even slightly foolish, response:
"Ah...I...okay..." After saying that, he himself felt that his words were dry and ridiculous, and his ears uncontrollably felt a little hot.
Mingzhao looked at his shocked and almost stunned reaction, and at his last dry "okay", and a trace of confusion flashed quickly in her eyes.
In her mind, saying "thank you" after receiving help is basic interstellar etiquette. The other party should reply with something like "it was my duty" or "it was nothing."
Is his reaction... due to different etiquette here?
She didn't try to speak again, but simply nodded slightly to indicate that she understood. Then she turned and walked to her new bed, and began to pack her small canvas bag.
Howard was left standing alone at the door, his heart pounding with emotion, unable to calm down for a long time. Looking at the girl's slender yet upright back, he realized for the first time with such clarity: he had truly brought someone back, and perhaps she was more than just a pitiful little mute girl in need of protection.
She harbored too many secrets and... resilience that he had never anticipated. That "thank you" was like a key, quietly unlocking a tightly closed corner of his heart.
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