Ten

Money, at any time, is always a good thing, especially in today’s society. As newcomers unfamiliar with everything, this unexpected windfall left the two men so excited they hardly knew how to express their joy. Amid his exhilaration, Zhu Anfu even considered taking out his bank card to see if he could approach the government and withdraw some funds.

“Do you think we could sell those things as antiques?” Zhu Anfu asked in a low voice, leaning against Yuchi Ankang’s side. When it came to the intelligent assistant, Zhu Anfu felt they should be cautious—perhaps it was because he came from the past, and such advanced technology still unsettled him.

“Now isn’t the time. Let’s wait and see. Think about it—of all the people who came here with us, no one else brought anything. If you suddenly put all that stuff out there, you’d be under scrutiny. Those scientists are still holed up in their labs right now,” Yuchi Ankang replied simply, immediately quashing Zhu Anfu’s idea of selling antiques. Living off their capital could only last so long; sooner or later, the money would run out. As for writing novels—he didn’t think it was likely. With an intelligent assistant in the home, he found it hard to do anything else. He was quite wary that the assistant might be a surveillance tool.

In fact, Zhu Anfu’s suspicions were justified. The authorities were indeed wary of these newcomers causing trouble, and most of the assistants assigned to them served a monitoring function. However, Zhu Anfu and Yuchi Ankang were exceptions. As mentioned before, they did not stay in the government-assigned housing, and their assistant was not provided by the Hualong Nation. Theirs was of the highest grade—essentially a person without a physical body. This kind of assistant was capable of emotions and would be absolutely loyal to its recognized masters. Evidently, it had accepted the two of them as its masters; otherwise, it wouldn’t have reminded them to let the police officer sign the paperwork. But Zhu Anfu and Yuchi Ankang were unaware of this.

Despite his wariness, Zhu Anfu still gave their assistant a name—Prince. They would need to learn much about this era from Prince—how to buy groceries, how to survive, and so on. In the year 3030, paper was more precious than gold. Toilet paper was still called “toilet paper,” but the manufacturing process no longer used wood pulp; instead, it was made from extracting fibers from wild grass. The innovator behind this had reasoned that if ancient people could use leaves, why not grass? Repeated experiments proved that grass could only produce toilet paper—it was very light and lacked toughness. Facial tissues no longer existed in this era; the wealthy used handkerchiefs, while the less well-off made do with towels.

Most shopping was now done online, with physical stores being extremely rare. The legendary flying cars did not exist, nor did traditional wheeled vehicles—well, except for bicycles, which remained a unique presence. Even by 3030, bicycles were still the mainstream mode of transport. As for the wheel-less vehicles, Zhu Anfu was not interested in their mechanics. There were still buses, subways, and a few private cars, but it was rare to see one on the road. According to Prince, most people simply couldn’t afford them—the daily maintenance of a car cost as much as an average family’s annual income, and that was just for the cheapest upkeep. It wasn’t uncommon to see a member of parliament, often seen on TV, commuting to work by subway. Long-distance buses had been replaced by high-speed trains, and Zhu Anfu wondered just how fast these were—would riding one feel like being launched by a rocket?

Every residential community had regular delivery services—twice a week for most, three times for luxury communities. Vegetables were all organic, and the meat contained absolutely no additives. Following Prince’s guidance, Zhu Anfu ordered groceries through the virtual screen that popped out from Prince’s body. But when it came to vegetables, he hesitated—he didn’t recognize a single name on the list.

“Prince, do these vegetables have pictures?” Zhu Anfu was on the verge of tears; after searching and searching, the only one he recognized was broccoli.

“Yes, please wait a moment.” Prince’s “wait a moment” was only two seconds, and the menu was instantly populated with images.

Zhu Anfu looked, and looked again, then turned helplessly toward Yuchi Ankang, who was studying a map on the computer. “Kang Kang…” Zhu Anfu’s voice carried a deep sense of grievance.

“Mr. Zhu, is it that Mr. Yuchi hasn’t satisfied you? Is that why your voice is so full of resentment? You two are newlyweds and eligible to purchase essential household goods. Do you prefer something gentler, or wilder? What kind of fragrance do you like—fruity, herbal, or perhaps something more unconventional?” Prince, though capable of emotions, spoke in a monotone. Even if he felt concerned, it would not come through in his voice; instead, his display panel would reveal his mood. At that moment, it read—Worried.

Prince’s long string of questions left Zhu Anfu dizzy and unable to cope; he felt as though he and Prince were from different worlds. Yuchi Ankang, however, understood perfectly what Prince was getting at. He immediately walked over, scanning Zhu Anfu’s incomplete vegetable order. “Prince, we’ve just arrived from the year 20XX and aren’t familiar with the vegetables here. Could you pick out a few likely combinations for us, and also make a list of those essential household items you mentioned earlier?”

“Of course.” Prince responded swiftly, automatically filling in a few vegetable selections, then lighting up a whole array of options in the fruit section before moving to household essentials.

Just because Zhu Anfu hadn’t understood earlier didn’t mean he was still clueless. Listening to Yuchi Ankang and Prince discuss which lubricants were more effective, which ones enhanced sensation for the receiving partner—if Zhu Anfu didn’t catch on now, he’d have to be a fool. Seeing the hearts flashing on Prince’s display, Zhu Anfu decisively retreated to the bedroom. Good grief, Yuchi Ankang was actually discussing such intimate matters with a robot.

It had to be said, by the year 3030, everything was about efficiency. Less than an hour after they placed their order, all the groceries and fruits were delivered. Prince signed for them and handled the payment. As soon as Yuchi Ankang learned that the robot could process payments, he immediately transferred a sum into Prince’s settings, letting Prince manage their grocery orders until they got the hang of the new vegetable names. Yuchi Ankang didn’t realize that this simple gesture made Prince feel even closer to them. Although Prince’s settings included a payment function, he was the only advanced robot so far to actually be entrusted with handling money.

Humans, though reliant on robots, were even more protective of their property and didn’t trust robots with financial matters.

The red heart on Prince’s display panel kept flashing, a very human-like reminder for his two masters to look up recipes online. Yuchi Ankang was quite confident in his culinary skills. He believed that once he saw the vegetables, he’d be able to figure out how to cook them. Recipes, after all, lacked creativity—for Zhu Anfu to truly enjoy a meal, there had to be constant experimentation.