The morning classes ended as the lunch break bell rang, and the clamor from the cafeteria drifted down the hallway, the chaotic crush of people palpable even through two sets of doors.
Gwen closed her notebook, waved the lunch bag in her hand at Mio and Peter, and raised an eyebrow: “The cafeteria is definitely going to be so packed today that there won’t even be a place to stand.
I know there’s an empty classroom on the third floor, and I borrowed the key from the student council.
Want to go eat there?
It’s at least quiet.” Peter nodded in immediate agreement: “Sounds great!
I went to the cafeteria late last week and couldn’t even snag a seat, so I had to stand in the hallway and gnaw on a sandwich.” After saying this, he looked at Mio with a bit of nervousness, fearing she might refuse.
Mio looked at their expectant gazes, fell silent for two seconds, and gently nodded.
She had originally planned to go to Chinatown to get takeout, but refusing twice in a row would be too deliberate, and Gwen’s suggestion was actually quite good—at least she wouldn’t have to be stared at in the crowded cafeteria.
“Fine.” The three of them went up the stairs to the third floor, and Gwen opened the door to the multi-purpose media room.
It was spacious and quiet, containing only a few long tables and projection equipment, with sunlight streaming in through the floor-to-ceiling windows, making it feel warm and cozy.
Mio found a seat by the window and pulled a silver-gray insulated lunch box from her bag.
The moment the lid opened, a warm, fragrant aroma immediately wafted out.
Shiny, tender, braised pork belly coated in a vibrant red sauce, egg-fried rice with each grain distinct and fragrant with scallions, and sliced apples arranged on the side—it was something she had woken up at five in the morning specifically to make.
Having transmigrated into this perilous Marvel Universe, the only way she could comfort herself was to ensure she at least ate well; she couldn’t mistreat her own stomach.
She picked up her chopsticks, and just as she took a bite of rice, she felt a gaze directed at her from across the table.
Mio looked up and saw Peter Parker staring at her lunch box.
His Adam’s apple bobbed slightly, and he quickly lowered his head, pretending to tidy up his own lunch.
The sandwich in his hand was dry, the bread slices already a bit hard, and beside it sat a small bag of plain potato chips and a bottle of cheap orange juice.
It was what Aunt May had prepared for him, and compared to Mio’s lunch box, it looked pitifully meager.
Mio watched his expression—wanting to eat but too embarrassed to say so—and sighed silently in her heart.
She said nothing, but using clean chopsticks, she scooped half of the braised pork belly from her lunch box into the lid and pushed it over to Peter.
The air was silent for two seconds.
Peter suddenly looked up, his face instantly turning beet red, his glasses sliding down to the tip of his nose.
He waved his hands hurriedly: “N-no, thank you!
Classmate Mio, this is the lunch you made, I can’t—” “I can’t finish it.” Mio interrupted him, her tone flat and devoid of inflection, yet brooking no refusal.
“I made too much; it would be a waste to throw it away.” Gwen, sitting to the side, witnessed this scene and couldn’t help but laugh.
She also pulled a box of butter cookies from her lunch bag and placed them in the middle of the table: “Perfect, I brought cookies that Aunt May taught me to make.
Let’s share!
Peter, don’t be so polite; Mio already gave you some, it would be rude to refuse now.” Peter looked at the glistening braised pork belly in front of him, then at Mio’s calm face and Gwen’s teasing smile.
He scratched his head and smiled embarrassedly: “Then…
thank you both, Classmate Mio, Gwen.” He picked up a small piece of braised pork belly and put it in his mouth.
The tender, melt-in-your-mouth texture and the savory-sweet aroma exploded in his mouth, and his eyes instantly lit up.
“Oh my god, this is so delicious!
Classmate Mio, you are amazing!
This is even better than what they make at the restaurants in Chinatown!” The corners of Mio’s mouth curled up almost imperceptibly before quickly returning to a calm state.
She just lowered her head and continued eating, without saying anything else.
Gwen also leaned in to try a piece, her eyes widening.
She gave Mio a thumbs up: “Wow, this is truly incredible!
Mio, you’re a master chef held back by your studies!
Could you teach me next time?
My Chinese cooking always feels like it’s missing something.” “We’ll see when I have time.” Mio nodded gently, not refusing outright.