Chapter 2: A Painful Breakfast
“Xiang Chuan, you’ve finally come down. Why did you get up so late today?”
Xiang Chuan walked out of the room, and when she poked half her head out from the handrail, the first thing she saw was Brother Xiang Qi downstairs on the terminal with its overflowing SF vibe, urging her to come down for breakfast.
He was now staring at his own terminal screen, typing something on the floating transparent keyboard.
His typing speed was so fast that it reminded Xiang Chuan of the accountant dispatched from her company every time during the financial report summary period.
From the moment she just walked out of the room, Xiang Chuan had confirmed that she was definitely not on Earth, where she was a proper working person struggling for salary.
The room was adorned with hanging paintings and impressive decorations she couldn’t quite understand, the dining hall downstairs looked two or three times larger than the entire first floor of her family’s four-person house back in her hometown, the central table wasn’t the unscientific long Western dining table from TV dramas but a relatively normal round table that could seat seven or eight people, yet the rotating serving plate in the center piled with soup pots and vessels made her feel like they were preparing for New Year instead of breakfast.
She hesitated as she walked down the stairs, secretly sizing up the “brother” and “sister” sitting at the dining table.
When she had just taken casual clothes out of the wardrobe, Xiang Chuan was wondering if her wardrobe had transmigrated with her; the style of the clothes in the wardrobe was no different from those she often saw in her original world, only with some subtle differences in material.
Now looking at “Xiang Qi’s” loose T-shirt and jeans and “Xiang Xue’s” little camisole with denim skirt, Xiang Chuan breathed a sigh of relief that this world’s aesthetics matched her original world’s so she wouldn’t have to become a “fashion leader” due to aesthetic differences the moment she transmigrated, while at the same time she couldn’t help but complain about the disjointed pairing of this SF worldview with 21st-century casual wear.
“Brother Xiang Qi, Xiao Xue, good morning.”
Xiang Chuan greeted them, hesitated for a moment, sat in the empty seat between the two, and seeing no strange reactions from them, she felt relieved.
The moment she sat on the chair, a set of tableware rose up in front of her on the dining table; following her muscle memory, she placed the cup on the circular pattern to her right hand side, then a slender faucet-like steel tube extended in front of the cup, injecting clean water into it.
Xiang Chuan carefully picked it up and took a sip; fortunately, it was ordinary purified water, without the machine oil taste or additive flavor described in those SF novels she imagined.
“Sister Xiang Chuan, you’ve finally come down, I’m starving.”
Xiang Xue waved her hand to turn off the terminal screen and lazily stretched her body.
“Sorry, sorry, I went to bed late last night.” Xiang Chuan looked around, “Where are Mom and Dad? They haven’t come down yet?”
“I’ve told you so many times not to stay up late reading novels at night; what if you’re late for early morning classes when school starts next week?” Xiang Qi also closed his terminal screen. “Mom and Dad went out early this morning; the big shots from the First Fleet are coming for inspection today, Mom went to receive them, and Dad went to the company to make preparations.”
“……Oh.”
Xiang Chuan nodded woodenly.
When she was changing clothes earlier and reorganizing the extra common knowledge of this world’s “herself” in her brain, she was very surprised to discover that her parents, who had spent their lives busy at a small shop in a countryside town in the original world, actually held important positions here: Mom was a retired veteran actor who had now become the Director of Cultural Bureau of the immigrant fleet, and Dad had become the Chairman of a major company in the immigrant fleet.
Was the contrast really this huge? The small shop couple became high-level figures in politics and business in the other world?
Were they the ones who actually transmigrated?
She glanced at the family photo hanging on the restaurant wall.
The mother in the photo was not the disheveled, unkempt version from her memories busy in the small shop warehouse; now she had a neat and capable short haircut, with added sternness between her brows.
The father was no longer the skinny figure busy at the shop counter finding change and payments while sneaking moments to learn how to use mobile scan payments; now with his black hair combed back, suit and tie, he really had the air of a successful person.
Since Mom and Dad had both become successful people, that meant…… she could eat and wait for death this lifetime?
The words “lie flat” appeared in Xiang Chuan’s mind.
Gurgle……
The growl from her stomach interrupted her random thoughts, and the faces of Xiang Qi and Xiang Xue on either side were full of teasing, making her feel instantly embarrassed.
“Alright, alright, let’s eat quickly; look how hungry you’ve made sister.”
Xiang Xue grinned mischievously and pressed the meal distribution button on the table, causing the soup pot steel pot on the table to automatically descend to about the height of a normal serving plate.
She even had to serve the food manually? Xiang Chuan, who had started to adapt somewhat to this SF worldview thanks to the “common knowledge” in her brain, now had another brain storm.
“Xiao Chuan, there’s fresh fish noodle soup today, the kind you love.”
Xiang Qi said as he picked up his sister’s soup bowl, opened the pot lid in front of her, and used the large ladle beside it to serve her a full bowl.
“Wow, thanks bro…… bro…………?”
Out of childhood muscle memory, Xiang Chuan subconsciously thanked him coquettishly with both hands taking the bowl, but as she brought it to her face, her voice trailed off.
What was this?
Xiang Chuan stared incredulously at the grayish-white soup in the bowl; after scooping some with the spoon, she found it was nothing but paste; could this be sesame paste? She sniffed it close to her nose; no odd smell, but no aroma either. At this moment, she “recalled” that food on the immigrant ships was basically 100% flavorless after processing, but the taste…… she “thought” around and couldn’t recall what this thing tasted like.
“Sister Xiang Chuan, what’s wrong? If you don’t eat soon, the soup will get cold.”
Xiang Xue watched her curiously while savoring small sips of the grayish-white soup, as if eating some delicacy of the world.
“Hm? Nothing, then I’ll start eating.”
Xiang Chuan smiled indifferently and put the spoonful of grayish-white soup into her mouth.
In an instant, she felt all her pores opening, her brain tingling. The next second, almost on instinct, she rushed to the kitchen sink and vomited everything out, including the water she had just drunk.
Xiang Chuan felt that what she had just drunk wasn’t fish soup but a mouthful of stinky water full of fishy smell; that taste was like the smell from the trash can near the fish stall when she accompanied Mom to the vegetable market during her student days. Thinking of this, she vomited even harder.
“Xiao Chuan? Xiao Chuan! Are you okay?”
“Sister Xiang Chuan, are you alright? Don’t scare me.”
Concerned voices from Xiang Qi and Xiang Xue came from behind; when they saw Xiang Chuan’s face change drastically after drinking the soup and rush to the sink to vomit wildly, both were frightened and hurried over.
“Xiao Chuan, are you feeling unwell? Or was there something wrong with that fresh fish noodle soup just now?”
Xiang Qi asked. After serving her the soup, he had ladled a bowl for himself and drunk it without issue, same for Xiang Xue, but Xiang Chuan, who usually loved it most, had this abnormal reaction, which puzzled him greatly.
“Brother Xiang Qi…… what was that soup just now made of?”
Xiang Chuan rinsed her mouth with clean water and asked hoarsely.
“Hm? Isn’t it just fish and noodles? Beat the fish into paste and mix it with noodle batter.”
Xiang Qi answered while thinking.
“……Just like that?”
Xiang Chuan said incredulously; logically, that should be similar to the five-grain fish rice noodles from her original world, or at worst fish balls; how could it taste like this.
“Yeah, fresh fish noodle soup is the most popular staple food among the major immigrant fleets and the most representative food of Dad’s company; unlike the ones outside, ours here is made fresh.”
Xiang Xue said proudly.
“Uh……”
If the fresh-made ones tasted like this, then the fast food ones sold outside must be even……
Xiang Chuan now felt that transmigrating to the future world didn’t seem like such a good thing.
