The next day.
When Yang Gang woke up, Zhang Miao had already left.
Breakfast was already laid out on the living room table, along with a note.
"Heat the breakfast in the microwave if it's cold."
It was a very usual, very ordinary note.
After cleaning up, Yang Gang took a seat at the dining table and casually turned on the living room TV.
"The defensive battle last night in Hangcheng ended in a great victory for humanity, all space monitoring points are stable, citizens can go out worry-free."
Yang Gang, his mouth full of fried bun and egg, muttered to himself, "Some confidence they got."
