Howard returned with a meal he had prepared for Mingzhao.
This time, he not only ordered food for two people, but also asked for two extra steamed buns and a spoonful of oily braised pork—subconsciously, he seemed to want to make up for something with the food, or... shut up that little mouth that could say "it will break" and "naturally efficient"?
Returning with a heavy lunchbox, the atmosphere in the small house remained subtly tense.
Howard silently opened the lunchbox, pushed the dish with more meat than vegetables and extra braised pork in front of Mingzhao, and picked up the ordinary potato and cabbage dish for himself.
The enticing aroma of the food instantly filled the air. Mingchao's nose twitched, a strong urge rose in his stomach, and his mouth involuntarily began to salivate.
Mingzhao's attention was indeed completely drawn in. She picked up her chopsticks and, after several days of practice, was able to use them quite skillfully. Although her movements were not elegant, her goal was clear, and she accurately picked up a piece of braised pork with alternating layers of fat and lean meat and put it into her mouth.
The richness of the oil and the savory aroma of the sauce exploded in the mouth, instantly conquering the interstellar scientist's taste buds, which had never experienced such a complex combination of "organic compounds".
She paused for a moment while chewing, a bright light flashing in her clear eyes, before speeding up her eating, her cheeks puffing out slightly, like a little squirrel that had finally found its favorite pine cone.
Watching her eat with relish, Howard's awkward emotions strangely subsided a little, and even the corners of his mouth unconsciously turned up slightly.
It's like raising a child; the more you look at them, the cuter they seem.
He picked up the steamed bun and ate it with the bland potatoes and cabbage, feeling particularly at ease.
Mingzhao noticed the blandness in Huo Hua's bowl and used her chopsticks to put some meat in Huo Hua's bowl as well.
"Let's eat together."
Howard's eyes darkened, and the smile on his lips vanished.
Mingzhao finished her meal, which was far larger than usual, and put down her chopsticks with satisfaction.
She looked at her empty bowl, then at the unfinished food in front of Howard.
She stretched out her slender finger and pointed towards the empty lunchbox and sink that Howard had placed beside her: "I'll wash it."
Her meaning was clear: I'm done eating, I'm going to wash the dishes.
Howard paused when he heard this, having just picked up a piece of shredded potato with his chopsticks.
Looking into Mingzhao's eyes, which were filled with the seriousness of "following procedures," he felt a sudden softening in his heart.
These past few days have been incredibly impactful for him, from her astonishing ability to draw blueprints to the shock of her "genius syndrome," and just now, that suffocating "gaze"...
She was like a walking enigma and a ticking time bomb. But at this moment, the way she volunteered to wash the dishes revealed an awkward earnestness in trying to follow the "family rules."
A strange warmth washed away the complex emotions in my heart.
Howard put down his chopsticks, reached out and gently ruffled Mingzhao's soft hair with an extremely natural, indulgent touch that even he himself was unaware of.
“You don’t need to wash.” His voice was deep, with a hint of gentleness that was barely perceptible. “Sit down and rest for a while, I’ll do it.”
Mingzhao was taken aback by his sudden head-patting gesture.
The warm touch and slight pressure from above her head were a completely unfamiliar experience for her.
In the League, physical contact is limited to necessary medical examinations and combat training; there has never been such...reassuring touch.
She subconsciously shrank her neck, a hint of confusion flashing in her clear eyes, but she didn't reject it. She just quietly watched Howard neatly tidy up the dishes and take them to the small kitchen to wash.
The water was running loudly. Howard washed the dishes while peeking through the gap in the curtain at Mingzhao, who was sitting quietly at the table outside.
The golden rays of the setting sun shone through the dusty window, casting a warm glow on her slender profile.
She was looking down at her hair, which had just been ruffled, as if studying something, her expression still one of focused bewilderment.
Howard's heart felt as if it had been gently bumped by something, and it softened completely.
The turbulent suspicions and warnings seemed to have temporarily subsided in this moment of tranquility.
After washing the dishes, Howard dried his hands and looked at Mingzhao sitting quietly there. Suddenly, an idea popped into his head.
"Mingzhao," he walked up to her, his voice soft, "would you like to go out for a walk today...?"
Mingzhao raised her head, her eyes questioning.
“Let’s go to the city.” Howard pointed out the window. “I’ll buy you some new clothes. Look at what you’re wearing…”
His gaze fell on Mingzhao's faded, ill-fitting old clothes, and a wave of guilt washed over him.
So much has happened these past few days that he completely overlooked such a basic thing.
Dr. Miyazu mentioned before that Myungsho was malnourished and needed supplements, so how could he have forgotten about clothes?
She's a girl, and she wears these drab, old clothes every day...
"Clothes?" Mingzhao looked down at herself, then at Huo Hua's crisp military uniform.
In interstellar space, personal clothing is generated with a single click by a synthesizer based on individual needs, allowing for complete freedom in terms of materials, functions, and styles.
Mingzhao thought about it and realized she did need some new clothes, even though she didn't really care much about her appearance.
She nodded: "Okay."
Howard breathed a sigh of relief and a smile appeared on his face: "Okay, get ready. There will be a logistics truck going to the city to pick up goods in a while, we'll hitch a ride."
...
The logistics department's large Jiefang trucks were packed with military dependents going to the city for business or to visit relatives.
The air was filled with the smells of sweat, engine oil, dust, and the strong aroma of pickled vegetables brought by someone, all mixed together to create a distinctive, albeit unpleasant, symphony of smells from a bygone era.
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