Chapter Two: The Food Court

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Zhou Yongtai did not lose heart and said to Aida, "Perhaps I can talk to the shop owners and work for them in exchange for food."

Zhou Yongtai was grateful that his mother had left him plenty of books written by humans, all of which he had read carefully.

He remembered one titled *Working for Lodging to Travel the World*.

If lodging could be exchanged for work, then surely food could be too.

But Aida shook her head after two seconds. "No, here, you need either permanent residency or to be a public school student to do odd jobs."

"Uh, it’s just helping wipe tables and clear plates, in exchange for a simple curry rice."

"Maybe no one would dare hire us. Ah Tai, this is Singapore—chewing gum can get you fined a hundred Singapore dollars. Let’s go see the bigger botanical gardens or find a nearby river. Let me check the map..."

Zhou Yongtai knew his AI companion was still calculating how to forage wild fruits and catch fish and shrimp to stave off hunger, like they had on the deserted island.

But he wasn’t about to listen to Aida.

Having narrowly escaped the future world ruled by AI, then suddenly arriving in the time before his own birth, Zhou Yongtai was doubly excited, eager to try communicating with the most unfamiliar species to him: humans.

Though, after all, he was one himself.

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Zhou Yongtai strode directly toward the row of food courts that looked far more bustling than the island forests.

“Oh my, Aida, these foods are just like in grandpa’s photo albums. No, even more!”

“Oh, Aida, I know this word—laksa. Grandpa’s book says it’s much more complex than curry or tom yum. Just a sip of its broth lets your tongue taste sour, sweet, fresh, spicy, and salty all at once. So it really is that fragrant!”

“I’ve also seen this in books—nasi lemak, coconut rice! Yes, and there are little dried fish beside the chicken drumstick. Hey, why is the rice blue?”

“Hainanese chicken rice... Aida, I’m not wrong, right? Back when the world still had living people, chicken wasn’t just made as Indonesian fried chicken. I wonder which tastes better—white-skinned or red-skinned chicken.”

“Char kway teow, frog porridge... There’s even a row of stalls here selling bak kut teh, pork offal soup, pig’s trotter rice, sambal fried rice with pork chops, char siu rice...”

Zhou Yongtai’s eyes sparkled as he sniffed eagerly, chatting nonstop with Aida about the dazzling variety of food stalls while walking.

He was indeed very hungry, but even more so excited—he had to explore the entire food court first, to embrace the human civilization that had vanished many years in the future.

Aida calmly followed her master, listening to his chatter while her olfactory system operated keenly.

Zhou Yongtai’s mother, Zhou Shuhan, was among the last top-tier AI scientists of the future world, enabling Aida’s generation of companion robots to possess about seventy to eighty percent of human-level smell and taste coding, able to discern the aroma and flavor of food.

But after confirming that none of the food here smelled rotten, Aida’s attention diverged from Zhou Yongtai, who was as ravenous as a mouse that had fallen into a rice jar.

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She fixed her gaze on the metal racks placed at different corners.

These were where diners returned their trays.

Some bowls and plates always had leftover food—half a bowl of laksa noodles, some char kway teow.

At the same time, food court staff moved briskly, almost in the blink of an eye, dumping leftovers into the trash bins.

“They must go to the restroom,” Aida thought. “When they leave the racks, I can take those plates with food left on them.”

But Aida soon realized her plan was impossible.

Because, when she approached the cleaning staff, she could clearly see their faces and the back of their necks.

They, like her, were not human.