Several hours after separating from the Eurasian Federation fleet, Natarle called off combat alert status.
The prolonged mental concentration left both exhausted. After resting briefly in their quarters, they coincidentally met again in the mess hall. Since only Zhou Tianming and authorized personnel could board the Black Tortoise, its living quarters were designed for comfort rather than the cramped conditions typical of other spaceships. The 80-square-meter dining area featured both a long banquet table and intimate two-seaters, with an open kitchen fully equipped with cookware and state-of-the-art appliances.
Natarle remained in her crisp officer's uniform, ever the picture of military readiness.
Zhou Tianming, meanwhile, had fully relaxed—wearing beige shorts, a loose T-shirt, and flip-flops.
Natarle's frown deepened as she took in his slovenly appearance, her lips pressed into a thin line.
Under her withering gaze, Zhou Tianming shifted uncomfortably. "We'll be on this ship for four months. You can't stay buttoned-up the whole time—everyone needs to unwind." He suddenly clapped his hands together. "Unless... you packed 120 identical uniforms to change into daily?"
A laugh escaped Natarle before she could stop it. Flushing to the tips of her ears, the violet-eyed officer shot him a glare as she hastily covered her mouth.
Zhou Tianming grinned until her icy stare made him retreat to the kitchen. "So, sweetheart~ what's for dinner?"
"Hmph!" She crossed her arms. "Flirting with an active-duty officer carries enhanced penalties."
With that, Natarle turned on her heel and marched out.
"Fine, I'll just improvise!" Zhou Tianming called after her.
"Whatever!"
Rifling through the refrigerator, he pondered his options.
The original Gundam SEED never specified Natarle's food preferences. Though they'd kept in touch, her strict Atlantic Federation military academy schedule had limited their interactions.
This was the perfect opportunity to raise her affection meter. After surveying the ingredients, Zhou Tianming made his choice—
Mystic Mapo Tofu!
Well, raising affection was secondary. The real goal was watching the ice queen turn red and breathless.
In this life, Zhou Tianming hadn't deliberately studied cooking. But being the Ultimate Coordinator had its perks—once he decoded recipe terms like "a pinch" or "a dash," he could flawlessly replicate any dish.
Unintentionally, he'd mastered countless home-style dishes, earning him "master chef" status.
Pulling out tofu and vegetables, he twirled a kitchen knife with practiced ease. "Let's begin!"
The rhythmic chop of blades, rush of running water, and sizzle of ingredients hitting hot oil soon filled the kitchen...
The once cold, sterile kitchen gradually warmed up, filling with the lively atmosphere and scent of home.
When Natarle returned to the kitchen, the air was thick with a spicy, mouthwatering aroma that made her salivate and break into a sweat just from the smell. Looking closer, she saw two plates of steaming mapo tofu, glistening crimson, placed on the kitchen counter.
Zhou Tianming had already served two bowls of white rice—one large, one small—and set them beside the mapo tofu. His gaze fell on Natarle as she entered, and he immediately deflated.
Dark long-sleeved athletic shirt, dark sweatpants, running shoes.
Completely covered up—not a single glimpse of "fan service."
Zhou Tianming refused to give up. "You dress like this at home?"
Natarle glanced down at herself, puzzled. "Is there a problem?"
His hopes were thoroughly crushed. "No, nothing. Let's eat!"
Taking her seat, Natarle poked at the mapo tofu with a ceramic spoon. As she stirred the thick sauce, a burst of steam rose. "So this is the legendary mapo tofu?"
"You've heard of it?"
"I heard it's very strong-flavored and not particularly healthy."
"But it's delicious!"
With that, Zhou Tianming scooped a spoonful into his mouth, hissing from the heat before chewing and swallowing. "Amazing!"
He then mixed the mapo tofu with rice, devouring it along with lighter side dishes in big mouthfuls.
Watching him, Natarle couldn't help but swallow hard. She scooped up a spoonful, blew on it, and took a bite.
Zhou Tianming immediately stopped eating, staring intently at her.
This was the moment of truth!
Give me that adorable reaction!
But instead...
Natarle's expression remained unchanged, not even a flicker of emotion. Her slender, pale throat moved as she swallowed, her glossy lips parting slightly to exhale a sweet, spicy breath.
"Delicious!"
She dug in eagerly, but her posture remained ramrod straight, her movements precise and disciplined—even her eating style screamed military professionalism.
Having seen none of what he'd hoped for, Zhou Tianming was utterly disappointed.
At least the delicious mapo tofu soothed his wounded soul.
After the meal, the two took a short break. Zhou Tianming planned to head to the study to work on the Gundam frame blueprints, but Natarle dragged him to the Bridge instead. "We need to review our previous battle. No slacking!"
Since a debriefing would be useful, Zhou Tianming obliged.
They began by explaining their reasoning and intentions behind their actions during the battle.
Natarle spoke at length—analyzing the enemy formation's weaknesses, how their own movements diverted enemy fire, and what she would have done if she were the opponent, among other things.
Zhou Tianming's expression grew increasingly stiff as he listened.
Why did I do that in battle?
No idea!
When Natarle finished, she looked at him expectantly.
Cold sweat broke out on Zhou Tianming's forehead.
What do I say?
What should I say?
Do I just say, "Fighting! Fun!"
That I acted purely on instinct without thinking?
Just as Natarle's beautiful eyes narrowed slightly in suspicion, Zhou Tianming spoke up: "I—"
He took a step back with his left foot. "—went with my gut."
The moment those three words left his mouth, Natarle's fists clenched with an audible crack. Zhou Tianming turned to flee, but she grabbed him by the collar and yanked him back.
Natarle proceeded to scold him harshly, her main point being, "Battle isn't a game! You need to be cautious! Cautious! And even more cautious!" Knowing she meant well, Zhou Tianming didn't argue and listened quietly.
Truthfully, he wasn't completely thoughtless—it was just that his preparations were so thorough that most battles ended in overwhelming victories.
Strategizing?
Tactics?
Those enemies weren't even worth the effort.
I charged up for a basic attack, but before I could finish charging, the enemies were already gone...
However, during his collaborations with Natarle, Zhou Tianming had come to appreciate the benefits of having an SSR-class captain at his back.
At this thought, the look in his eyes as he gazed at Natarle shifted slightly.
Natarle seemed to sense something, her reprimanding voice gradually softening as a rosy hue spread across her face.
The sound abruptly ceased as the two locked eyes, the atmosphere growing ambiguous.
And then...
Natarle was perfect in every way,
"Except she lacks a bit of femininity."
The thought unconsciously slipped from his lips.
Zhou Tianming realized too late...
A deathly glare pierced his face, making his hair stand on end.
Moments later, Zhou Tianming clutched his red, swollen cheek, on the verge of tears.
Unbeknownst to them, several hours had passed—time was hard to discern in Cosmic Space—and by the time they snapped out of it, it was already the early hours of the next day.
Natarle was still full of energy and Mindpower, but Zhou Tianming, having been on the receiving end of a one-sided lecture, was drowsy and barely awake.
Seeing his state, Natarle shot him a glare with her beautiful eyes before reluctantly concluding their debriefing.
The final summary: Zhou Tianming lacked strategic planning skills but excelled in tactical combat. He pursued the effects of new equipment and weapons but underutilized older gear, failing to explore its potential—areas that needed attention and improvement.
"Well, that's what you're here for."
Zhou Tianming uttered the words without a second thought.
Natarle immediately flushed crimson. "Dismissed!"
She turned and strode briskly off the Bridge.
Zhou Tianming himself was taken aback. Unconsciously, Natarle's importance to him had quietly risen to this level. Sometimes I think I believe, but the Golden Finger doesn't react.
Other times, when I think I don't believe, [Trust] lights up instead.
Shaking his head, he walked off the Bridge.
His tone was full of emotion: "The human heart is hard to fathom, truly hard to fathom.""
After that, their journey entered a long, monotonous stretch of repetition.
Each day was just endless travel. Looking back, Earth had shrunk to the size of a bottle cap, and the scenery in Cosmic Space remained unchanging and dull.
Zhou Tianming was grateful Natarle had come along—he hadn't expected such a long journey to be so grueling.
But in this atmosphere, the distance between them gradually closed.
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