"Gulu, do you know how to wash vegetables and things like that?" Gan Lan asked, watching Gulu scan everything in sight.
Gulu shot her a sideways glance. "You actually want me to wash vegetables?! In your dreams! Impossible!"
"So, that means you can?" Gan Lan was satisfied with this answer. He might be a bit narcissistic and flashy, but since he could wash and chop vegetables, she decided she could put up with him.
"It’s impossible now, but maybe it’ll happen later. Who knew a Combat Robot could actually wash vegetables? He’s quite the all-rounder!" she thought.
However, looking at the rather eye-searing Gulu and recalling that this edgy teen persona was designed by Mrs. Yan, she couldn’t help but feel a bit of sympathy for Yan Yifei.
"Gulu, come have some instant noodles. I made these myself—you won’t find them anywhere else!" Gan Lan called out, opening the lid of the noodle cup. Gulu was huddled in a corner, deep in thought with a somewhat creepy expression on his face.
Gulu curled his lip, sniffing the unfamiliar but seemingly appetizing aroma drifting through the air.
"I suppose I can force myself to have a little." Gulu feigned reluctance, but quickly picked up a pair of chopsticks, expertly pinched a mouthful of noodles, and took a bite with a loud SLURP.
"Gulu, you actually know how to use chopsticks! I even prepared a knife and fork just for you. I didn’t expect you to be so nimble with them! Anyway, how does it taste?" Gan Lan stared with sparkling eyes at Gulu, who had paused to slowly chew the mouthful of noodles.
Gulu swallowed his food. "Your culinary skills aren’t bad. You’re almost catching up to Old Qingping at Ms. Xu Yashu’s home." He took a sip of the broth and gave an approving nod.
"Can you really taste it?" Gan Lan still couldn’t quite believe it. He was a robot! A robot that could eat real food with such relish! It was unimaginable. It seemed Gulu was quite the foodie, too.
With his practiced movements and expressive face while slurping noodles, he looked entirely too human.
"Of course I can taste it! I just can’t digest it, so I have to periodically clear out my system. Are you doubting me?!" He thought, "This new partner seems to have a broken brain. She’s a bit stupid, but whatever, I won’t hold it against her."
He also thought, "These instant noodles are actually quite delicious. Even such ordinary ingredients can be made into something so tasty. I thought only Star Beast Meat and special plants could yield delicious food. It seems I need to update my database."
Gan Lan slurped her own noodles, looking at the visually offensive Gulu. She thought, "It’s actually pretty nice having someone to chat with like this."
Today was the match to narrow the top 1,000 contestants down to the top 100. Even though her event wasn’t until one in the afternoon, Gan Lan woke up early. She wanted to check out the other arenas to see what kind of topics were being assigned.
Rumor had it that the prompt for each arena would be entirely different, and she had no idea what they might be.
"Gulu, let’s go. We’re heading to the arenas to watch the matches," Gan Lan called out to the internet-addicted teenager.
Gan Lan marveled at how great it was to be a robot. They never needed sleep and never got tired; as long as an energy box was installed, they could game endlessly without resting. Gulu was so incredibly human-like that she found it utterly impossible to treat him like an emotionless machine.
When he ran into terrible teammates, Gulu would even curse and get into flaming wars with people online.
"Coming." Gulu put down his gaming console, looking rather reluctant.
Ignoring his little tantrum, Gan Lan turned and walked straight out the door.
There were fifty matches taking place in the morning. Gan Lan decided to observe the arena where her strongest competitors—the powerhouse contestants—were gathered: Arena 66.
The match in Arena 66 had already begun. She couldn’t see the actual cooking process, and the spectator stands were packed to the brim, but she could clearly read the prompt suspended high above the stage.
The arena broadcast echoed: [The prompt for Arena 66’s Top 1,000 to Top 100 qualifiers is to use the most common ingredient, ’flour’, to create an extraordinary culinary dish. Participants must make at least two dishes. The time limit is two hours. Exceeding the time limit will be considered a forfeit.]
Seeing this, Gan Lan felt the prompt was a bit tricky. What exactly counted as "extraordinary"? It was far too broad of a concept.
She stared at the floating text and sank into deep thought. If she were given this prompt, which recipe would she use? How did one define extraordinary? Did a dish count as extraordinary just because a lot of people liked it?
Gan Lan then wandered over to a different arena at random. The broadcast there announced: [The prompt for Arena 33’s Top 1,000 to Top 100 qualifiers is to use the most common ingredient, ’vegetables’, to create an extraordinary culinary dish. Participants must make at least two dishes. The time limit is two hours. Exceeding the time limit will be considered a forfeit.]
Gan Lan checked several arenas and noticed a pattern: all the prompts featured the most basic ingredients and demanded the creation of an extraordinary dish out of something utterly ordinary, with a minimum requirement of two dishes. This was a bit of a headache. She had no idea what kind of prompt Arena 99 would issue her that afternoon.
Sitting in the stands of Arena 33, Gan Lan furrowed her brows in contemplation. There were simply too many common ingredients. Not knowing which one she would encounter later, she started mentally filtering through a list of basic ingredients, matching them up with all the recipes in her head.
"Hu, I didn’t expect to run into you here! I went to see your match—you have my vote of confidence!"
"Number 9! Number 9! Earth to Number 9!"
Gan Lan’s mind had been entirely immersed in her recipes when someone suddenly shouted right by her ear. She jumped in fright. Looking up, she saw a man and a woman who looked somewhat familiar. She didn’t think too hard about it; having overused her brain just now, her head was already throbbing.
"And you are?" Gan Lan asked in confusion.
"There were a lot of people that day, so it’s understandable that you don’t remember us. But we were witnesses to your argument with Ge Feng. Hu, you’ve got my respect!" The man gave Gan Lan a thumbs-up and burst into hearty laughter.
"I remember now! You were the one who moved quickly to block Ge Feng, otherwise I definitely wouldn’t have been able to dodge that beating. Thank you," Gan Lan chuckled, expressing her gratitude to the man.
"It was no trouble at all, don’t be so polite with him. I’m his wife, Xiang Xincai, and this is my husband, Yan Yongchang," the cheerful-looking woman beside the man introduced, patting his shoulder.
Xiang Xincai then extended her right hand. "You’re Gan Lan, right? I’ve officially upgraded to becoming your fan! I feel like you have hands that can turn the mundane into the magical—even ordinary ingredients become incredibly delicious when you make them!"
Gan Lan reached out and shook her hand, looking a bit sheepish as her smile grew more genuine. "Sister Xiang, you flatter me too much. Nice to meet you, Yan. I’m Gan Lan."
"Old Yan, this little girl actually called me ’Sister Xiang’. She’s so sweet, completely unlike her sharp demeanor when she was arguing with Ge Feng," Xiang Xincai covered her mouth and smiled radiantly.
"Your Sister Xiang is old enough to be your grandmother. Just call me Grandpa Xiang; being treated like a young man will make me blush," Yan Yongchang followed up with a hearty laugh, only to receive a playful punch from Xiang Xincai the moment the words left his mouth.
Gan Lan scratched her head, a bit dumbfounded. "But you two only look to be in your thirties. Isn’t it a bit weird to call you grandma and grandpa when you’re so young?"
Gan Lan really couldn’t figure it out. They didn’t have a single wrinkle on their faces and looked exactly like young adults. How had they already upgraded to the grandparent generation?
Xiang Xincai grabbed Gan Lan’s arm, her face beaming. "We’re both over three hundred and sixty years old. We even have quite a few great-grandchildren!"
Gan Lan’s eyes instantly widened. She stared fixedly at Xiang Xincai in disbelief. Over three hundred years old but with the face of a thirty-something? Was this really the interstellar era, or had she somehow transmigrated into a cultivation era?