In front of her, the clay pot simmered, bubbling away as tendrils of white steam spiraled upward. The entire room was filled with the rich, savory aroma of fish soup.
Ling Miao’s hands never stopped moving. Fine, supple white noodles slipped through her fingers with a graceful, fluid ease; if not for the kitchen setting, one might have mistaken the scene for a performance of art. It wasn't just imagination—her technique was so elegant that a ball of dough the size of a fist transformed into long, slender noodles in the blink of an eye. As her arms swept, the initially thick strands thinned out instantly.
She dropped the freshly rolled noodles into the pot, silencing its frantic bubbling. Ling Miao poked at them with her chopsticks, then fell into a deep silence.
It had been a week since she transmigrated here. Unlike the prosperous life she had imagined, the Tadar Planet where she had landed was one of the poorest and most backward in the Interstellar Era. Ling Miao couldn't help but sigh; the gap between rich and poor was something that not even the Interstellar Era could bridge.
She frowned, glancing down at the Star Brain on her wrist. It was old and battered, flickering with a sluggish red light; she knew it was the final warning that its energy was nearly exhausted. Even in the Interstellar Era, the plight of the poor remained unchanged, she thought, trying to find a bit of humor in her bitterness. She looked up at the empty doorway and frowned again—this was the third day she had been open for business.
She had gone from soaring ambition to having her confidence shattered into pieces in just three days.
[Please, Host, earn deliciousness value as soon as possible.]
A mechanical voice rang out in her mind. Ling Miao took a deep breath, frowning in annoyance. "This place is a godforsaken wasteland. Where do you expect me to find customers?"
If one listened closely, there was more than a hint of regret in her tone. If she had known her first step would be stillborn, she never would have been so quick to agree to the system's terms. Ling Miao regretted it deeply. Three days after arriving, she had been bound to the Food Spreading System. Blinded by the promise of being able to return home and a "Planar Travel Gift Pack," she had impulsively agreed to its demands: promote fine dining and earn enough deliciousness value to serve as energy.
When she had calmed down, even if she felt a bit of chagrin, she hadn't thought it would be this bad. But today, having cleared her head and processed all the information in her mind, she was filled with profound regret.
Tadar Planet was one of the most underdeveloped planets in the galaxy. Its total population was only a few hundred thousand, mostly the elderly, the weak, the sick, and the disabled; those with any ability had long since left to seek their fortunes elsewhere. One could say that everyone left on this planet was barely struggling above the poverty line. If they couldn't even afford the cheapest nutrient fluid, how could they possibly have the money to spare on food made from natural ingredients?
The reality of these past three days had thoroughly shattered Ling Miao’s luck, and the system’s periodic nagging only fueled her irritation. Immersed in her own regret, she was startled by a question from overhead.
"Excuse me, is this a restaurant?"
Susan stood there, unable to help but sniff the air. It was thick with a fresh, savory scent. She swallowed hard, her eyes filled with anticipation as she looked at the young girl sitting in thought on a chair.
Ling Miao pulled herself together. She looked at the girl and, fighting to contain her excitement, curled her lips into a smile. "Yes, customer." She paused, then added, "Since we just opened, we only have one dish for now."
"Would you like an order?"
After hearing Ling Miao’s words, Susan felt a twinge of regret. Her gaze swept over the shop’s decor; while not fancy, it was at least clean and bright. Remembering that this was the only eatery she had seen since arriving on Tadar Planet, her spirit sagged. She waved her hand dismissively and said, "Fine."
"Very well, customer. Please wait a moment."
Ling Miao turned around, the corners of her mouth curling up—her excitement was about to burst out. God knows how much joy and motivation this single customer had brought her. If no one else had shown up, forget the system—she would have starved to death right there. After all, judging by the state of her arrival, the original owner of this body had died of hunger.
As for the restaurant, the renovations, the cookware, and the ingredients—Ling Miao had begged and pleaded with the system to provide them on credit. Otherwise, with the original owner’s pockets emptier than her face, where would she have gotten the funds to buy anything?
Ling Miao went into the kitchen while Susan sat at a chair, looking around. The faint, savory aroma wafted past her nose, calming her once-anxious heart. She thought with a bit of self-consolation that even if the taste wasn't great, given such an enticing scent, she should be able to... stomach it, right?
Aware of her own thoughts, Susan couldn't help but offer a bitter smile. Who would have thought that three days ago, she was the pampered third daughter of a prominent family? Exiled to Tadar Planet, she was now reduced to bowing her head for a meal at a humble diner.
She touched her empty stomach and sighed. It wasn't that she didn't want to drink nutrient supplement, but after twenty years of refined living, she simply couldn't adapt to such a sharp decline.
Ling Miao was unaware of Susan’s thoughts. Seeing that the noodles were completely infused with the milky-white broth, she couldn't help but exclaim in admiration. She added the handmade fish balls she had prepared to the clay pot. The plump, round balls floated on the thick white broth, glowing with a faint, lovely pink hue.
She had to admit, even if the system was a cheapskate, the quality of its supplies was guaranteed. The quality of this fish was the best she had ever seen.
The balls cooked quickly. Ling Miao turned off the heat, put on heat-resistant gloves, placed the clay pot on a tray, and carried it out to Susan.
"Your meal, customer."
Ling Miao leaned over and placed the pot on a heat-resistant mat. Susan blinked, caught off guard as a cloud of white steam washed over her face. The familiar scent instantly cleared her mind. Her eyes locked onto the bubbling pot, and ribbons of white mist wafted up, carrying an indescribable, rich fragrance that hit her squarely in the nose.
She couldn't wait. She picked up her chopsticks and skillfully plucked a mouthful of noodles; the springy, firm strands even wiggled against her chopsticks. Susan’s eyes lit up, and she stuffed them into her mouth.
Ling Miao’s eyelids twitched, and just as she was about to warn her, she saw the girl open her mouth wide, gasping as her expression contorted. The noodles were still steaming and searing hot, but she refused to spit them out.
What kind of peak delicacy was this?!
She dared to say that even back in her family, she had never eaten anything this delicious!