I'm Just a Noodle Seller, I Really Can't Build Planes

Lu Yu: “I really don’t know how to build airplanes. I’m just the owner of a noodle factory!”

Reporter: “But someone reported that the planes you sell can fly three thousand meters high and travel three hundred kilometers!”

Lu Yu: “Slander! That’s absolutely slander! I really don’t sell planes. I sell mechs, starships, war fortresses, Primordial Sparks, Aether Phase Engines… And all my products are in outer space and other dimensions. When did they ever appear in the solar system? Can this tiny patch of Blue Star even support my products? My competitors must be jealous and trying to frame me!”

The reporter stared at him, speechless. “So you really do sell noodles?”

Lu Yu patted his chest. “Absolutely! Even the Grey Knights of Warhammer 40K say my noodles are great. I even have a golden rice field in the Warhammer universe. I use the corpses of Warp Greater Daemons as fertilizer, and the flour I mill from the rice is packed with energy and tastes incredible! Lately I’ve been preparing to expand into the Three-Body universe: the Singer civilization, the Ancient Gods civilization, the cultivation civilization…”

“If this universe has twelve civilizations, but only one can afford to eat its fill, then my goal is to make sure the other eleven can eat their fill too!”

“I’m not trying to change the state of the universe. I support letting the warring factions keep fighting, the chaotic regions stay chaotic, and the death zones see even more death…”

After the reporter went home, he wrote a book: From Selling Noodles to Selling Starships: The Self-Cultivation of Lu Yu, the Universe’s Arms Dealer.