roccoschili Chapter 362 [Empire] Meat at the Canteen 1st Floor Window
Chapter 362 [Empire] Meat at the Canteen 1st Floor Window
Before the teacher started to call the roll in the second class, I carefully took out the coffee milk that Wen Ya had given me that morning from my backpack. While drinking it, an interesting idea suddenly popped into my mind.
I softly hummed the theme song of "Plants vs. Zombies" from my memory before traveling back in time: "Thump thump thump thump thump, thump, thump...thump thump thump thump thump, thump thump..." The tone was light and familiar, and as I followed the rhythm, my mood inexplicably improved.
"There's a zombie on your lawn~" I sang softly, unable to resist glancing at the giant mung bean plant beside my desk. Its lush green leaves, plump pods, and even its branches swayed slightly as I gently shook my head.
I was stunned for a moment, then burst out laughing. The giant green bean's "dance," though a bit clumsy, unexpectedly matched the rhythm of the theme song. There were no zombies around, only sunshine and the classroom's intense learning atmosphere, yet the scene before me somehow felt "a bit poetic."
"Hey, has your mung bean become a spirit?" The classmate next to him noticed something, pointed at the mung bean, and couldn't help but teasing in a low voice.
"Haha, it's just a little too energetic." I shrugged helplessly, attributing the giant green bean to some "unreliable fertilizer" or "accidental mutation." After all, if I told them it really could understand music, I'm afraid it would be taken to the laboratory for dissection.
I continued to hum quietly: "There's a zombie on your lawn~We don't want zombies on the lawn~"
This time, the mung bean branches swayed even more happily, as if completely intoxicated by my rhythm, and even the luster on the leaves seemed a little brighter.
After drinking the last sip of coffee milk, I licked the corner of my mouth with satisfaction, thinking, maybe I can really consider developing this green bean into a "talent plant"... No, forget it, if I keep going like this, I'm afraid it will really become the "mascot" of the whole school.
Putting these messy thoughts aside, I put down the cup and lowered my head to start organizing today's course materials. The giant green bean was still "enjoying it" and shaking its branches, as if to say, "Don't stop, keep singing!"
For a moment, I suddenly felt that it was really interesting.
The cafeteria was bustling with activity at lunchtime, as usual. But once again, the uncle on the first floor, using the excuse of "being well-dressed," sent me to the "VIP area" on the second floor. The prices were higher, and the dishes more refined, but ultimately, it didn't make much of a difference to me—I just wanted something to fill my stomach. The prices really didn't matter anymore.
Helplessly, he casually picked up two servings of meat slices, and just as he walked to his seat and sat down, his eyes accidentally swept across a figure in a corner.
His clothes were ordinary, even a little worn, and clearly out of place in the atmosphere of the second-floor "VIP area." On the plate before him was the cheapest portion of porridge on the second-floor menu, a gray, unappealing dish. The boy frowned, gnashing his teeth as he forced the food down his throat, each bite a test of willpower.
I paused, a feeling that this person looked familiar. Thinking carefully, my memory gradually became clearer—I'd seen him on a mercenary mission before, doing basic odd jobs. He must have been a junior mercenary, at the very bottom of the mercenary hierarchy.
I walked over to his table with my plate and asked casually, "Is this porridge so delicious?"
He looked up, saw it was me, and looked a little embarrassed. His expression froze for a moment, then he forced an unnatural smile: "If it's expensive, you have to finish it. Otherwise, you'll lose money."
"It's so painful to eat, yet you still insist on forcing yourself." I frowned, sat down directly opposite him, and pushed a plate of meat in front of him. "Eat some of this, don't torture yourself."
He was stunned, his eyes darting back and forth between the plate of meat and my face, as if he couldn't believe I was really going to give it to him. He hesitated for a moment, his tone wary, "What do you want to do?"
"I want to treat you to a meal." I said in a relaxed tone, with a casual smile on my lips. "Don't get me wrong, I just don't want to see you making things difficult for yourself."
He was silent for a moment, looking down at the plate of meat slices, and finally reached out to pick up a piece with chopsticks, putting it into his mouth and chewing slowly. Perhaps because of this moment of warmth, his expression relaxed a lot, and his eating movements were not as tense as before.
"You... are a mercenary?" he suddenly asked, with a hint of uncertainty in his tone.
"Just barely." I took a sip of water and answered nonchalantly, "I'm still accumulating merits to become an adult."
He nodded, as if recalling something. "I saw you on that mission. You're a mid-level mercenary, right? I didn't expect you to be studying here too."
"The rules here are that no matter who you are, underage people have to go to school." I shrugged, my tone somewhat helpless. "But why did you come upstairs to eat this kind of porridge?"
He didn't answer directly, but whispered, "Sometimes, I always want to try a different place. Although this place is expensive, I always feel that... compared to the first floor, it can be quieter when eating."
I watched him eat with his head bowed, feeling a pang of discomfort. The second floor was indeed quieter and more respectable than the first, but for a junior mercenary like him, a single meal here would likely require him to use up his entire daily budget to barely afford it. Was all he wanted a moment of respectability and peace?
"Don't be so hard on yourself next time," I whispered, pushing another plate of sliced meat in front of him. "Don't worry about superficial things. If you're hungry, don't carry it. Being able to hold on to your body is what matters most."
He was stunned for a moment, a complex emotion flashed in his eyes, then he lowered his head and nodded lightly: "...Thank you."
I didn't say anything else, just lowered my head and continued eating. Perhaps each of us is struggling to find some balance in our own way, even if the price is swallowing a bowl of hard-to-swallow porridge.
His voice suddenly took on a hint of hesitation and bitterness as he softly said, "Actually, I eat this because it's cheaper than nutrient solution. Every bit saved counts..."
Hearing this, I looked puzzled. Before I could ask, he seemed to see through my thoughts and added directly, "Judging from your appearance, you probably haven't eaten on the first floor. They won't let you eat there. The food on the first floor is indeed cheap, but... it's unpurified exotic beast meat."
He paused, as if searching for the right words, then continued in a low voice, "How should I put it? It's cheap and filling, but... it's bad for your health and will affect your lifespan. Although the food on the second floor is expensive, it's clean. If I were the only one eating that kind of meat, it wouldn't matter, but I still have a younger sister to support, and I can't ruin my health..."
These words left me stunned. The chopsticks in my hand stopped in mid-air and I looked at him intently.
"Then... do those students know this?" I asked in a low voice, with a hint of uncertainty in my tone.
The boy lowered his head, his fingers gripping the rim of his bowl, as if lost in a state of helplessness. He sighed softly, "How could I not know... Most of us students desperately try to find work after class. It's hard enough to afford school, so who dares to hope for healthy eating? The food on the first floor is cheap and filling, and even though we know it's harmful to our health, we just turn a blind eye."
His voice became lower and lower, but every word he said was like a heavy stone hitting my heart.
I was silent for a long time, my mind flashing back to the bustling scene in the school cafeteria on the first floor, and the students lining up for food. Their faces showed excitement, fatigue, and the concentration of those students scrambling for food. But I never imagined that behind those cheap meals, there was such a price to pay.
"How old is your sister this year?" I suppressed the shock in my heart and tried to make my voice steady.
He raised his head and glanced at me, a soft light flashing in his eyes: "Ten years old. She also attends a regular school nearby."
I nodded gently, but a complex mix of emotions welled up inside me. This boy and I went to the same school, a junior mercenary, and his life was clearly much more stressful than mine. A healthier, more sustainable lifestyle wasn't for himself, but for a family member he cherished: his sister.
"You're amazing." I said sincerely, looking at him seriously. "Not everyone can do what you do."
He gave a somewhat shy smile, scratched the back of his head, and said softly: "It's nothing, I just feel that there are people waiting for me at home, and I can't fall down."
I didn't say anything more, just nodded.