"I shouldn't get tired, at least not before I die," Jiang Cheng joked.
Sitting next to him were Wan Xingyan and Chen Ang, around a small table.
Because the weather was too cold, the room was very hot. There was a layer of moisture on the floor-to-ceiling windows, and water droplets kept sliding down, creating tear-like lines.
The entire restaurant was filled with an irresistible aroma, and... a spicy scent!
This is a Chinese hot pot restaurant, a winter staple.
In my distant hometown, almost every city sees hot pot restaurants opening up every winter, their flavor accompanying countless people as they come and go.
Jiang Cheng deliberately asked Gu Qingwan to find this Chinese-owned restaurant on an unfamiliar street, just so he could taste the flavors of his hometown.
It's a bit of a waste of talent to use a top-notch assistant for this kind of job.
As members of such a grand plan as space docking, it was naturally easy for Wan Xingyan and his team to eat Chinese food. However, to put it simply, the chef from the United States didn't quite capture the essence of the dish, and Jiang Cheng and his team always felt that something was missing when they ate there.
So now that the plan is over, we finally have some time to breathe.
They then arranged to meet at this hot pot restaurant.
The table was small and the space was cramped. The three of them were superiors and subordinates in scientific research, but at this moment they were friends. They chatted and laughed, and Jiang Cheng was very approachable. He mentioned the sentence he had just said.
He was speaking to Chen Ang.
“There are differences between people. This two-month plan has been more tiring than any of my previous experiences. When I got back to the dorm, I fell asleep the moment my head hit the bed. I don’t know where you, Jiang Cheng, get so much energy.” Chen Ang sighed, put his hands behind his chair, interlaced his fingers, and looked a little lazy.
"You're still young. How old is the dean? I'm thirty, and you're forty. You're entering the middle of your life."
"You can't deny getting old!" Wan Xingyan and Chen Ang sighed with emotion.
Back when they were in college, they would work on research all night long without ever feeling tired. But now, they get so tired after standing for just one morning that their backs and legs are exhausted.
The intense work environment of the past two or three months has been a real challenge for them.
As they were talking, the waiter brought out the soup base. Since the three of them had different tastes, they ordered a half-and-half hot pot.
As the microwave on the table began heating, chili peppers, Sichuan peppercorns, and red goji berries floated on the fiery red broth, while on the other side was a snow-white mushroom broth, exuding a unique aroma.
As soon as the temperature rose, the spiciness began to permeate the air, and Jiang Cheng and his friends smelled the unique aroma of their hometown that they hadn't experienced in a long time.
Strangely enough, even though they were far from home, this familiar taste made them feel as if they were back in their hometown.
A sudden wave of sorrow washed over Jiang Cheng, something that had never appeared in his hardened heart before—it was longing.
He was homesick.
What is Luo Xiaoli doing now? I am so far away from her, and I don't know when I will be able to go back.
Although he didn't believe in fatalism, Jiang Cheng knew that his existence had a different significance to this world, and that he would need to abandon some emotions to accomplish his great cause when necessary.
Striving for what you love is perhaps a unique kind of romance for men.
The waiter pushed the cart over and asked, "Should we put it on the table first or do you want to take it yourselves? Will it take up too much space?" Because the table was relatively small and there were a lot of ingredients ordered, it wouldn't fit if they were all put on the table.
Jiang Cheng said, "Then let's leave it there for now, we can get it ourselves."
When they first entered, they were wearing masks, so the waiter didn't recognize them. When Jiang Cheng was ordering, his face was turned to the side, so the waitress didn't look at him closely either.
But at that moment, she suddenly felt that Jiang Cheng was somewhat familiar. After carefully recognizing him for a while, she realized that he was the world-renowned scientific research leader who had appeared on the Times Square screen a few days ago. The waitress was stunned.
"You...you're not that??" she was about to exclaim in surprise.
"Shh..." He put his hand to his mouth, making a shushing gesture, afraid of attracting the attention of people in other private rooms, which would probably cause the situation to develop in an unpredictable direction.
Jiang Cheng then added, "We're just having a meal, and we'll leave afterward. Don't make a fuss." His attitude was very gentle.
The waitress was stunned for several seconds when she saw the figure who only existed in legends and on TV before she came to her senses and nodded heavily.
Seeing fellow Chinese people in a foreign land already felt comforting, and the fact that Wuhan was the pride of China made her even more excited.
After the waitress left, Jiang Cheng breathed a sigh of relief, took the ingredients and put them into the pot of boiling water. The hot pot completely whetted his appetite.
Chen Ang and Wan Xingyan smiled, this was probably the most relaxed moment they had had in a long time.
The brain-like probe was launched above the equator, entering the dimension of death, which also sank their hearts; they were waiting.
Jiang Cheng was also waiting, but no one knew what the outcome would be. The signal had completely disappeared. Since entering the Death Dimension, they had completely lost contact with Number Four and could not determine their exact location.
The answer will only be revealed when the probe recovers its signal, escapes the dimension, and returns to the planet's surface.
It seemed that in an instant, they had lost everything they could do, so they decided to be lazy for a few days and escape from that oppressive and solemn atmosphere.
Researchers also need to make a living. When they take off their clothes, they are just one of the millions of ordinary people.
The hot pot was steaming, and after the ingredients were cooked, they were scooped out, filling the entire private room with their aroma.
Jiang Cheng dipped the beef in the oil sauce, then put it in his mouth. The heat and freshness instantly ignited his taste buds, and the broth overflowed. He suddenly felt very satisfied.
This winter was originally devoid of warmth, but now it has.
At the small table, Chen Ang and Wan Xingyan chatted and laughed, opened a can of beer, and took a big gulp. The rare relaxation made their nerves feel comfortable.
Jiangcheng really enjoys these heartwarming moments.
Perhaps Number Four's fate is to be lost in the dimension of death, or perhaps he will return carrying the beliefs of Jiangcheng and humanity.
Everything is unknown.
Suppose that Number Four really does return from the vast universe, carrying boundless hope, Jiang Cheng will, from that moment on, throw himself back into his career.
Time speaks not, yet it slowly writes history on the canvas.
After the howling wind, new life will begin.
It was springtime, a time when everything was coming back to life.
As willow leaves sprout tender buds and sycamore trees begin to grow taller, people shed their heavy clothes.
All that departs will return in another form.
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