As soon as she arrived home, Zhang Jiexia busied herself in the kitchen.
Perhaps because it had truly been too long since they last saw each other and she had worried far too much, as a mother wanting to spend more time with her son, she asked once more in detail about his injuries. After confirming that nothing was seriously wrong, she called Han Qingyu over to help feed firewood into the stove.
The stove fire crackled and popped, and the rice swelled.
Vegetables hit the hot oiled wok, and the spatula clanged as it tossed them...
The rest of the group sat in the main hall, sipping tea and chatting.
At the same time, they listened to the mother and son in the kitchen rambling about this and that, trading inconsequential remarks. Every now and then, Zhang Jiexia's hearty laughter rang out, only to be followed a moment later by an exasperated scolding as she raised her spatula, making as if to strike him—bent on reminding her son, who was supposedly at the pinnacle of humanity's combat prowess, just how terrifying and ferocious his old mother could be.
"Aiya," Han Youshan put on an uncharacteristic air of the head of the household, feigning annoyance as he said, "He's a grown man now, and you still want to beat him all day long! Could you even hit hard enough to hurt him? Aren't you worried everyone will laugh at us if they hear? Besides, he just got back—how did he upset you this time?"
Han Youshan was thinking to himself: never mind the others, Rusty Sister's own grandfather, Old Corps Commander Shen Fengting, was right here. Given a guest of such standing visiting for the first time, they had to maintain some semblance of family dignity no matter what.
Instead, Zhang Jiexia shouted back through the wall, both indignant and amused, "He told the two of us to work hard and hurry up and give him a little brother or sister!"
Han Youshan: "..."
"I told him he isn't getting any younger and should put in some effort whenever he has free time—hurry up and marry a wife and have a baby to leave here for the two of us to raise, so we won't be sitting around with nothing to do, feeling lost and constantly worried sick. And he told me, 'Why don't the two of you work hard yourselves...?'"
At Zhang Jiexia's explanation, Yang Qingbai and the others outside, who had been straining to hold in their laughter, could no longer contain themselves. Even Shen Fengting, whose expression had remained somber, lowered his head and spat out a mouthful of tea onto the floor before he could swallow it.
Earlier, he had been wondering if Mother Han was deliberately dropping hints about urging her son to marry and have kids for his benefit, and he had been mulling over whether—and how—he should pick up the conversation...
Only for this sudden twist to catch him completely off guard, making him choke on his tea with laughter.
Amidst the hall's uproar of laughter, Han Youshan's weathered face turned beet red. Flustered and mortified to the point of spilling tea from his cup, he slammed the cup down, jumped up, and hollered toward the kitchen, "Why, you little rascal! I'm already in my mid-fifties, and you... Hit him! Go right ahead and thrash him, mother of my child, and remember to give him my share too!"
"Brat, showing no respect for his elders, spouting sheer nonsense." Turning back, Han Youshan dropped his bluster and indignation, giving Shen Fengting and the others an awkward smile of explanation.
"It's fine, it's fine. Kids these days are all like this," Shen Fengting waved his hand hastily to soothe him.
"Uncle," Wen Jifei called out suddenly from the side, his tone sounding both serious and affectionate.
"Hm? What is it?" Han Youshan turned to look at him, puzzled.
Wen Jifei said, "Actually, you really could consider it. I mean if—if one day you find that the war has settled down and humanity's foreseeable future is still long, it wouldn't be totally out of the question, right?"
He spoke with a smile, his expression hovering somewhere between seriousness and jest, but a flicker of worry and sorrow flitted through his eyes for a split second.
"You're only a little over fifty, so it's not like it's a problem. Besides, both of you have been nourished by source energy all these years, so your health is definitely great..." Wen Jifei continued.
"Aiya, you! Xiao Fei, looks to me like you haven't had a beating in too long either—just as badly in need of a thrashing!" Han Youshan feigned raising his hand, then forced a loud, stiff laugh in an attempt to dispel the awkwardness.
In the Han household, Wen Jifei had never been treated as an outsider; he counted as half a son. Long before, when he and Qingzi were still in school, the boy had frequented the Han home every few days to eat, sleep, and help with chores.
Speaking of which, among their circle of friends, with the sole exception of Rusty Sister, it wouldn't feel out of place or problematic at all for the Han couple to put on a show of "disciplining the kids" with any of them.
That said, such a situation would never happen with Wu Xu. Xu'er was so obedient and honest; among all of them, he and Rusty Sister were the two who had always tugged at Han Youshan's and Zhang Jiexia's heartstrings the most.
Both in the main hall and in the kitchen, Han Youshan and Zhang Jiexia asked about He Tangtang almost at the exact same time.
Tangtang hadn't come this time. If he had, being the colossal blabbermouth that he was, he would have let everything slip, and the house would surely be even livelier right now.
How did anyone think the Han couple had found out about the existence of Rusty Sister and Xin Yaoqiao in the first place? It had all been blabbed by He Tangtang.
He Tangtang had even spilled the beans early on about Wen Jifei's ultra-long-distance romance. That had only made Han's parents even more anxious; in their daily idle chatter, they would often praise Xiao Fei for being capable and impressive, never forgetting to find a wife even while fighting wars, while their own son was a useless good-for-nothing.
Faced with Han Youshan's and Zhang Jiexia's inquiries, Wen Jifei and Han Qingyu could only both say that Tangtang had a solo mission to carry out this time, and they would go pick him up later.
...
At the farmhouse hearth, with three woks fired up at once and Zhang Jiexia working briskly, the dishes were prepared in no time. Added to that were the various cold platters and hot dishes hastily made and brought over by neighbors from the village... On the enormous round table, large bowls were stacked on large bowls, and plates crowded against plates, until the tabletop could barely hold them all.
Fortunately, Pegmont suddenly dropped by from the Azure base, appearing outside the Han family courtyard alongside several other super combat powers who had likewise been treated and bandaged.
None of these fellows had small appetites, especially Pegmont. Having survived alone on Mars before, he hadn't had a proper meal in a very long time; even after getting food from the fleet later on, it was nothing more than tightly compressed, packaged space rations.
"What are you here for?" Yang Qingbai went out to meet him first, asking in English.
"Come to eat," Pegmont answered in Huaxia language.
"Good, good, good! Welcome, welcome! Hello, hello! We were just saying earlier what a pity it was that you had to leave in such a rush, reaching here without even having a bite to eat." The Han parents bustled about fetching stools and greeting them warmly.
Zhang Jiexia urged Han Youshan to hurry up and fetch some extra pairs of chopsticks.
Right away, Han Youshan said, but can foreigners even use chopsticks?
So, along with the chopsticks, he brought spoons. And fearing that porcelain spoons would be too small to scoop up large chunks of meat, in the end he even washed clean several spatulas used in the kitchen and brought them along too.
"Don't worry. He probably only knows a phrase or two; he won't be able to say much," Wen Jifei comforted Qingzi from behind, noticing he seemed worried Pegmont might let the truth slip.
By this time, it was already nine in the evening. Dinner was set up in the courtyard beneath the starry sky, with a full round of brimming cups of liquor poured.
During the meal, the Han couple asked several times about the Martian expedition.
Everyone deflected appropriately, only admitting that the fighting hadn't been very easy.
Pegmont was the only one at the table waving a spatula, gesticulating wildly as he described to the Han parents how there was a massive thing on Mars, and how he and Qingzi fought it, couldn't beat it, f***ing hell.
The Han parents couldn't understand him at all and could only rely on Wen Jifei's translation and explanation.
Wen Jifei smiled and said, "He's praising how huge our table is and saying the food is f***ing delicious! He said he's stuffing himself like crazy, eating with all his might, but still can't finish it, and told Qingzi to eat more too."
The Han couple actually bought it.
Dinner wrapped up around midnight. When Pegmont and his group headed back, Rusty Sister left with them to undergo an examination and treatment from Zhe Qiuhong at the base.
The remaining few were settled in and stayed overnight at the Han home.
Han Qingyu finished washing up and returned alone to his familiar little bedroom.
Hardly anything in the room had changed; even the desk lamp he had used back in high school was still there, and still worked.
The entire room was spotless and orderly, a clear sign that his mother cleaned it regularly.
On the bed, the old sheet and duvet cover he had used in those days showed signs of wear from countless washings and had faded a bit, but they were just as neat and clean, making him want nothing more than to throw himself onto the bed right away, lie flat, hug the pillow, and drift into a deep, comfortable sleep free of all stray thoughts.
Unfortunately, he hadn't changed clothes yet. Han Qingyu moved toward the wardrobe to look, hesitated for a moment, and sat down at his old study desk first.
He touched here, looked there.
*Five Years of Gaokao, Three Years of Simulations*.
Opening a drawer without thinking, he saw the slip of paper with his college entrance exam scores that his teacher had delivered all those years ago, along with his graduation yearbook, resting right before his eyes.
That year, failing the exam, disheartened and discouraged...
"Damn it." Han Qingyu gave a bitter chuckle at first, then suddenly couldn't help actually laughing. But as he laughed, the rims of his eyes gradually began to redden.
It wasn't any specific sorrow, just a dazed swell of mingled emotions and deep reflection.
And so, almost uncontrollably, taking this as his starting point, he looked back carefully for the very first time over the path he had walked all these years, the people he had met, and everything he had lived through.
Chapter 959