"Hey, what are you thinking about? Let's head down. It's been so long since I had food made by Wang Kun's wife—I can't wait any longer!"
Howard's voice pulled Chen Mo from his memories. Seeing Howard's impatient look, practically drooling already, Chen Mo could not help recalling Wang Kun's wife's cooking as well.
Chen Mo and Howard immediately opened the door and went downstairs. In the familiar Martial Arts School hall, Wang Kun sat on the sofa, sipping tea from a purple clay teapot. From the kitchen not far away came the constant scrape and clash of spatula against wok, along with the sizzling of ingredients over high heat. The once spacious, chilly Martial Arts School was suddenly filled with the warmth of everyday life.
An enticing aroma drifted out and curled around their noses. Howard could not help swallowing.
"That smells like spicy chicken!"
Wang Kun, seated on the sofa, noticed the commotion by the stairs at that moment and abruptly looked up.
When he saw Chen Mo and Howard coming down the stairs, Wang Kun immediately rose from the sofa and said respectfully,
"Headmaster, you're back!"
That evening, thanks to Chen Mo, Howard got to taste Wang Kun's wife's cooking again after many years. He feasted at the table until he was too stuffed to eat another bite, only then reluctantly setting down his chopsticks.
He could not help thinking to himself, Looks like S.H.I.E.L.D. needs to recruit a Chinese chef for its base!
Of course, it was absolutely not to satisfy his own appetite, but to improve the quality of life for S.H.I.E.L.D.'s agents!
Only by eating well could they fight evil forces more effectively!
After finishing the delicious dinner personally prepared by Wang Kun's wife, they sat on the sofa and chatted for a while.