Chapter 10: Machine Cooking

After experiencing a spiritual energy outburst, Xi Ming’s body and mind were both greatly depleted, urgently needing replenishment. Besides, it was almost time for dinner, so he nodded in response.

Lowering his gaze to operate the terminal for a moment, the door to the bedroom slowly opened, and the wheelchair he was sitting in began to automatically move toward the dining room.

The speed wasn’t fast, allowing Shi Chan to easily follow along with a relaxed pace.

On the way, they didn’t encounter anyone. Upon arriving at the dining room, the ones serving the food were robots.

This didn’t bother Shi Chan at all.

Shi Wen and Li Manman enjoyed the sense of superiority brought by human servants, always having people attending to their needs. Shi Chan, on the other hand, disliked the feeling of constantly being watched. He preferred robots, and at home, he used more machine services than most people.

Compared to dining in the Shi household with the butler or servants observing, the dining room with only Xi Ming felt much more comfortable to Shi Chan.

The dining table in the Xi family’s dining room was a long one. There wasn’t a chair placed at the main seat—this was Xi Ming’s spot, and his wheelchair height could be adjusted to match the table.

A small serving robot came over carrying two trays. It placed one directly in front of Xi Ming, but didn’t put the other on the table.

Since this was Shi Chan’s first time dining in the dining room, the small robot didn’t know his seating preference. It followed Shi Chan, scanned him, and used a mechanical voice to prompt, “Please take a seat.”

Shi Chan hadn’t gone far and sat down one seat to the right of Xi Ming. The robot then placed the tray in front of him, said, “Enjoy your meal,” and moved to a standby position in the corner.

Neither Shi Chan nor Xi Ming were talkative people, so the entire dining process was accompanied only by the faint clinking of cutlery.

Although robot-cooked food didn’t taste as good as meals prepared by human chefs, it wasn’t unpleasant either. Having just exhausted his spiritual energy, Shi Chan actually found the food rather delicious.

Toward the end of the meal, Shi Chan became aware of a gaze resting on him.

There were only two living people in the room, so the owner of the gaze could only be Xi Ming. Shi Chan paused for a moment with his cutlery and looked at Xi Ming.

Xi Ming didn’t bother to hide his gaze; it remained on Shi Chan.

Feeling puzzled, Shi Chan asked, “What is it?”

Xi Ming’s gaze shifted briefly to Shi Chan’s plate, then after a moment, he shook his head and gestured, “Continue.”

Retracting his gaze, Xi Ming lowered his eyes slightly and tapped the armrest of his wheelchair lightly with his fingers.

Omega individuals were rare and precious. The Empire didn’t demand much in terms of their education, leaving their development largely to personal interests.

It was true that some omegas could achieve great heights in certain fields, but many were pampered from a young age, lacking ambition. By the age of eighteen, they would finish basic education at the academy, then rely on family or spousal income, stepping into a life of leisure and luxury.

On the capital star, home to the Empire’s elite, there were no poor residents. Naturally, the omegas living there were even more extravagant.

In terms of diet, for instance, omegas on the capital star grew up eating food prepared by human chefs. Most families hired private chefs, and the academy also had special counters offering handmade meals exclusively for omegas.

Even in just the realm of food, the expenses for omegas on the capital star were dozens of times higher than for alpha or beta peers of the same age.

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This led to inevitable competition.

Some omegas outright classified food cooked by chef robots as low-quality meals, akin to nutrient solutions, refusing to eat even a bite. Others weren’t as extreme but still expressed disdain for machine-cooked meals, showing their dissatisfaction whenever they were forced to eat such food—as if displaying their dislike somehow underscored their elite status.

However, the omega in front of Xi Ming seemed unusually… well-behaved.

Shi Chan’s dining etiquette was elegant, influenced by his omega friends. However, unlike other omegas, Shi Chan wasn’t picky about his food.

Though he, too, had been pampered growing up, he had also experienced life in a cultivation world, where he had endured extreme hunger.

For instance, there was a time when he lost his storage bag and spent all his energy avoiding a pursuing demonic cultivator. His opponent was clearly toying with him, like a cat playing with a mouse.

For over ten days, Shi Chan had neither eaten nor drunk anything. Even though a cultivator’s body was resilient, the hunger consumed his thoughts. He was tempted to grab and eat any greenery or grass that passed by.

It was only by accidentally entering a Qi Refining secret realm that Shi Chan finally escaped the demonic cultivator. Yet the memory of starvation during that time was deeply etched into his mind, drastically lowering his standards for food.

Having more flavorful, human-cooked meals was naturally preferable. But if those weren’t available, Shi Chan wouldn’t sulk like other omegas. To him, whether it was machine-cooked meals or nutrient solutions with faint fruity flavors, both were perfectly acceptable.

Thus, the scene Xi Ming saw now was an omega quietly eating the “basic” food that other capital omegas wouldn’t even touch.

Xi Ming naturally didn’t know that Shi Chan was already accustomed to such food. He thought Shi Chan was deliberately keeping calm.

Regardless of whether it was intentional, the sight of Shi Chan quietly eating made him look exceptionally obedient.

Under Xi Ming’s gaze, Shi Chan carefully finished all the food in front of him, rinsed his mouth with clear water, and then pushed his cutlery forward slightly.

“I’m done,” Shi Chan said to Xi Ming.

“Let’s go.” After one meal, Xi Ming’s impression of this suddenly-appeared omega improved a little more.

At least he didn’t seem like the spoiled or troublesome type.

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Upstairs, Xi Ming’s gaze swept across a row of doors, and he asked, “Which room was arranged for you?”

Shi Chan had previously explained the circumstances leading to his arrival at the Xi household, so Xi Ming was aware of the room assignment arranged by Xi Songkai.

“This room,” Shi Chan replied, pointing to one of the doors. He added, “But after I arrived this afternoon, I went to your room.”

And that was when he got marked.

Although Shi Chan wasn’t as sensitive about pheromone marking as other omegas, getting marked so soon after meeting… still made his ears flush slightly.

Xi Ming didn’t say anything, but his wheelchair turned toward the room Shi Chan had pointed to.

At the door, the lock didn’t automatically open. Xi Ming stopped and glanced at Shi Chan.

Having just gained partial authority in the Xi family residence, Shi Chan now shared the same access level as Xi Ming. Once a door was locked, Xi Ming couldn’t open it without Shi Chan’s consent.

This detail hadn’t occurred to Shi Chan initially, as the Shi family didn’t even use high-tech intelligent locks like the Xi family did. Their doors were ordinary ones, just more expensive. They had no restrictions tied to authority levels.

Realizing the issue as soon as Xi Ming turned his head, Shi Chan quickly accessed his terminal to grant Xi Ming access to his room. While at it, he glanced at other shared permissions.

Omega individuals rarely had sole authority over anything. Most permissions were shared between spouses, such as the top-tier “assets ownership” category.

With a few taps, Shi Chan opened the assets section and found that their shared account… had an astonishingly large sum of money.

Excluding stocks, Shi Wen had given Shi Chan 10 million star coins as compensation, and combined with Shi Chan’s savings over the years, his total assets amounted to around 13 million.

Upon marriage, a portion of each spouse’s assets was automatically transferred to the shared account. Shi Chan hadn’t changed the default 50% allocation, so about 6.5 million of the shared account’s funds were his.

Yet their shared account currently held nearly 100 million star coins.

Shi Chan’s eyes widened slightly in surprise. Would Xi Songkai really grant a “love-struck omega” he’d just married access to such a large sum of money?

Was he not afraid that Shi Chan might run off and transfer it all away?