The lights in the Core Area canteen cast a warm glow, and the air was filled with the fresh, sweet scent of newly harvested corn flour being steamed. Jingyi sat in the corner of the long table, a small white porcelain bowl before her holding half a bowl of golden corn porridge. She mechanically scooped up a spoonful and brought it to her mouth. The warm, thick porridge slid down her throat, yet she could taste no flavor at all. Her gaze was cast downward, fixed on the shallow ripples swaying at the rim of the bowl, as if those circular water patterns were reflecting the petrified, gray faces of miners from ancient texts, the twisted, stitched limbs inside glass jars, and the backs of her parents disappearing into a purplish-black fog...
"Jingyi?" Limeng, sitting opposite her, raised his head. He had just finished sketching a rough structural diagram of a pesticide molecule on a draft paper, deducing how to further optimize the catalytic efficiency of the fourth-generation "Nongbao". He noticed the porridge in her bowl was practically untouched. "Are you not feeling well? Or is this porridge not to your taste?" A trace of hoarseness from staying up late and lingering concentration remained in his voice.
Jingyi snapped back to reality abruptly. Her fingertips trembled imperceptibly, and her spoon clinked against the rim of the bowl with a soft sound. "N—no," she shook her head quickly, trying to squeeze out a smile, though it looked pale and weak. "It's just... a little tired…
Chapter 85