When he woke up, Shen Zhiwei, the owner of a private restaurant, came to 2237 from 2037.
No mansion, no system, just a broken greenhouse that will be demolished in seventy-two hours, and thirteen point six credits.
In the world two hundred years from now, AI will calculate what to eat and what to do will have the optimal solution. Even a meal can be accurate down to every gram.
Shen Zhiwei just set up an old pot and sold the most "substandard" rice.
Crooked vegetables, cracked eggs, and rice that others despise can be turned into a hot meal in her hands. The six broken tables were slowly filled with people.
Then, she picked up an escaped robot.
It wasn't hungry and didn't need to eat, but after tasting her egg fried rice, it uttered a word for the first time that an AI shouldn't have -
"I like it."
Later, this future world that only calculates the optimal solution gradually discovered:
Some meals have no standard answer.
Some people don't calculate it either.
