27. Stories of Each Other [Modern Warship in a Cultivation World]

“It’s quite astounding how fast your wounds are healing,” Lieutenant Sarah said, checking Lu Mingfe as he sat on the edge of the bed. “This Qi… in a few more days, you might as well be totally healed.” Lu Mingfe, finishing buttoning his shirt, one of the spar navy uniforms on board replied in his native tongue. Jessica translated for him from her chair nearby.

“I quite like your army’s clothing,” Lu Mingfe said, admiring the borrowed uniform.

“Well, now then, since your check-up is over, I will be going,” Jessica said, standing up, eager to put distance between herself and the young man who saw her as his translator and constant companion.

Lu Mingfe immediately followed her toward the cafeteria.

“Why do you keep following me?” Jessica finally asked in an annoyed tone, halting mid-corridor.

Lu Mingfe shrugged, completely unperturbed. “It’s not like you are the only one who wants to eat dinner. I have to eat too, you know.”

As they arrived at the cafeteria where dinner was being served, both Jessica and Lu Mingfe lined up and received their identical plates of synthetic rations. Once Jessica sat down at a quiet table, Lu Mingfe followed her and sat opposite her.

“Now… why are you sitting here?” Jessica asked, placing a single spoonful of food onto her plate, her patience clearly wearing thin.

“I mean, it’s not like I can communicate with anyone else here,” Lu Mingfe explained, taking a bite of his own food. “So, of course, I will follow you.” Taking a sip from his cup, he added, “What? Do you want me to sit alone, like an outcast, and eat?”

Jessica sighed, knowing he was deliberately pressing her conscience. “Stop putting words into my mouth. I never said that.” Taking another bite, she changed tactics. “So tell me more about yourself. You wanted to talk, right?”

Lu Mingfe stopped eating and looked her straight in the eye. Then, with a simple, engaging smile, he asked, “If that is what you want, let’s make it a trade. I tell you something about myself, and you tell me something about yourself.”

Suddenly, the conversation was interrupted by a familiar voice. “What’s the runt saying? Reporter Jessica?” Seaman O’Malley asked, placing his full tray down heavily.

Two people joined them at the table: Seaman O’Malley and Seaman Jenkins arrived with their own plates and sat down on either side of Jessica.

“Oh, nothing. He wanted to trade stories,” Jessica translated with a short smirk in her face, summarizing Lu Mingfe's proposal. “He suggested we tell him something about ourselves in exchange for him sharing something about his own life.”

“Oh, that’s a great idea!” Seaman Jenkins exclaimed, his appetite unaffected by the solemn mood still pervading the ship. He took a large bite from his plate.

Lu Mingfe’s simple smile grew slightly, though it was clear he was a bit annoyed by the sudden intrusion. Once Jessica translated the response, he nodded. “Sure, why not. The more, the merrier.”

“I’ll go first then!” Seaman Jenkins declared, wiping his mouth with a napkin. “My life is about as exciting as swabbing a deck on a Tuesday. I’m the only son of two incredibly successful dentists who just retired and moved to a ridiculously manicured condo in Miami. My entire purpose in the family was to balance out the teeth talk.”

Seaman Jenkins chuckled, leaning back. “They’re absolute saints, but they measure the success of a party by the collective strength of the guests’ enamel. When I told them I was joining the Navy, they weren’t upset about the danger: they were worried about my flossing schedule. The only reason they let me go was because the Event Horizon has an onboard dentist, Chief Evans. My dad made me promise to book a cleaning every month.”

Seaman O’Malley barked a laugh. “Aye, Jenkins. And here we are, stranded in a galaxy with continent-splitting wizards and you’re worried about tartar buildup!” He finished his bite and leaned forward, his voice a rich, rolling drawl that always seemed to carry.

“My turn, then. I lived most me life in a fishing village up north, on the coast of the old country, where the sea’s your master and the wind’s your only friend,” Seaman O’Malley said. “Parents were commercial fishermen, tough as old rope and twice as salty. That’s why I talk like a damn parrot, I suppose, what Jenkins here always calls me ‘maritime speech pattern.’”

Seaman Jenkins sighed, a shadow passing over his face. “Yeah, that was the running gag. Carter used to say you sounded like you were issuing orders to a schooner, even when you were ordering lunch.”

The shared laughter died instantly, leaving a profound, aching silence in the space where Ensign Carter used to sit. The reality of the loss, briefly displaced by the familiar comfort of their memories, crashed back down.

Jessica took a deep breath, determined to shift the mood away from the abyss of grief. She offered a warm, nostalgic smile. “My story is far less adventurous, I promise. Before I became a journalist, I was in college back home in China. My mother, she was always determined to spoil me, no matter how old I got.”

“She’d visit me once a month, right on deadline week, not with research or books, but with enormous tins of mochi and fresh pineapple buns from her favorite bakery. She’d pretend she was bringing them for my roommates, but we both knew they were all mine. It was her way of saying, ‘Stop working so hard, here’s some sugar and some love.’ I miss those silly, sweet moments.”

The atmosphere lightened, drawn back by the simple, universal image of a mother’s kindness. Jessica then turned to the silent, thoughtful figure across from her.

“Alright, Lu Mingfe. You’ve heard our normal. What’s your trade?”

Lu Mingfe placed his utensils down slowly as Jessica finished translating. He looked at the three Earthlings, the dentist’s son, the fisherman’s boy, and the reporter with a sweet tooth and his simple smile vanished, replaced by a gaze that held the distant weight of a life lived entirely on a battlefield.

“You’ve told me of your home,” Lu Mingfe began, his tone quiet but commanding. “I will tell you about mine.”