The cafeteria was massive—just Dining Hall One spanned five floors, with escalators for convenience, and the food selection was lavishly diverse. Dishes representing cuisines from nations worldwide lined the transparent display windows, and Su Wei noticed the chefs appeared to be natives of those very countries. Truly, only Grand Zhou possessed such financial might and bold vision in this world.
Seeing so many novel delicacies, Su Wei’s appetite was instantly whetted. She began making her rounds—but avoided waste. Though she selected many dishes, each portion was tiny. Prices were shockingly low: over a dozen dishes cost barely thirty-something yuan. Barely two yuan per dish.
Two beautiful girls seated together naturally drew glances, but the table piled high with food drew even more. As Su Wei picked up her chopsticks and devoured her meal with gusto, Zhou Xi took only a few delicate bites before setting hers down with clear disdain.
“Hm?”
Mouth full, Su Wei blinked at Zhou Xi. “Why aren’t you eating anymore?”
Zhou Xi pouted, sticking out her tongue slightly. “It’s awful.”
“Awwful?” Su Wei blinked again. She found the food not just palatable but excellent—each dish distinct. The Cantonese plates she’d just tried were perfectly authentic. How could this be called awful?
“Where’s the awful? It’s delicious!”
“Mmm… Not tasty.” Zhou Xi rested her chin in her hands, dissatisfied. “Nowhere near our family chef’s cooking. Ingredients are too low-grade.”
Su Wei sighed inwardly. Her roommate was clearly pampered. If Zhou Xi found *this* unpalatable, what would she do eating Huaxia university meals—hair, steel wool, mystery bugs and all? She’d probably blow up the cafeteria.
“But school isn’t home. You’ve got to adapt.”
“Mmm…” Zhou Xi pouted her lips. After a brief silence, her eyes lit up. “Weiwei, let’s go to Jinsu Pavilion! Their vegetarian dishes are amazing.”
Su Wei put on a stern face, chopsticks pointing at the table. “Eat *this*. Don’t waste food. Haven’t you heard: ‘Who knows that each grain in the bowl comes from hard toil, drop by drop’?”
“Hm? No.” Zhou Xi blinked, shaking her head. “What’s that? A nursery rhyme? It even rhymes.”
“It’s not a rhyme—it’s a Tang poem! ‘Hoeing weeds at noon under the scorching sun, sweat drips onto the soil beneath the crops. Who knows that each grain in the bowl comes from hard toil, drop by drop.’ A Tang poem—from Huaxia’s Tang Dynasty.”
Su Wei first thought Zhou Xi a slacker for not knowing such a famous verse—then realized: maybe Grand Zhou didn’t teach Tang poetry.
“I know the Tang Dynasty and Tang poetry—but this poem doesn’t exist!”
“Hm? Impossible.”
Bewildered, Su Wei pulled out her phone, searched “Min Nong,” and froze. This world mirrored her old one—but culturally diverged. Dynastic history shifted after the Han/Three Kingdoms era. Cao Cao never lost at Red Cliffs; he unified Huaxia. Though he honored Emperor Xian in life, his son Cao Pi ascended afterward. The land recovered peacefully. No Jin Dynasty. No heinous Upheaval of the Five Hu. Everything changed from there.
“So… who wrote it?”
“Well…” Su Wei hesitated. “A man named Li Shen. But he doesn’t seem to exist here.”
Zhou Xi’s lips twitched—*Are you kidding me?* “Fine. For your poem…”
“‘Min Nong.’”
“Yes, yes—for your ‘Min Nong,’ I’ll reluctantly eat this.”
Zhou Xi forced a smile, picked up her chopsticks, and shoveled food in while grimacing.
In a cafeteria corner, three girls covered their mouths, eyes glistening.
“Our Imperial Princess suffers so… She’s never endured this!”
“But she’s grown! I thought she’d leave after one bite.”
“Of course—our Imperial Princess is the most sensible.”
“Quick—send this to His Majesty!”
They snapped covert photos behind a pillar and slipped away.
Inside an elegant study of the Zhaoge Imperial Palace, the Emperor of Grand Zhou and supreme leader of the Grand Zhou Federal Empire read quietly. A knock came. A royal guard entered.
“Your Majesty, latest update on the Imperial Princess.”
“Oh? Bring it.”
The Emperor glanced at the tablet, smiling slightly. “Staged? Little Xi eating *that*?”
“No, Your Majesty. She ate only after her new roommate advised her.”
“Oh?” He set the tablet down, tapping the desk. “Who is this roommate?”
“I was about to report. Su Wei—Huaxia-born. Her father, Su Zheng, renowned nuclear energy scholar, died young six years ago in a lab accident. You expressed regret and said his child must study in Zhaoge. Her mother, Jiang Zhuoyun, former Huaxia ambassador to Namibia, died last year shielding citizens during civil war. Her grandfather, General Su Dingyuan, ex-commander of Huaxia’s Southwest Military Region, led the New Delhi Raid: three thousand troops, one hundred minutes, Huaxia’s flag raised atop Central Mountain’s presidential palace. Your Majesty, such a background… poses risk.”
“Oh… Su Zheng’s daughter.” The Emperor nodded, ignoring the rest. “Let little Xi bond with her. Ease her protection when safe. A young eagle must learn to fly.”
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
The guard dared not argue—but remained wary of Su Wei. *She probably knows less about her own family than I do.*
After he left, the Emperor dialed Zhou Xi.
“Little Xi, it’s me!”
“Grandpa! You’re calling?”
Zhou Xi, sitting with Su Wei in the hillside park, blinked in surprise.
“I heard you finished your cafeteria meal today. My little Xi is so grown-up.”
“Hehe, it’s nothing~” Zhou Xi giggled. “My new roommate, Weiwei! She recited a poem—I found it so reasonable, I ate right away!”
“What poem tamed our precious Xi? Let Grandpa hear.”
“A poem I’ve never heard. Called ‘Min Nong.’ ‘Hoeing weeds at noon under the scorching sun, sweat drips onto the soil beneath the crops…’"
