Chapter 144 Inorganic Living: Tidying Up the Home, Shopping at the Supermarket, Cooking
It was nearly night when we landed, but the sun in Los Angeles was still as intense as it was at noon, and even the asphalt roads had a faint red glow.
Fubole drives you home in their company car. You watch as Moorish-style villas whiz by along the street, with wrought-iron balconies, orange roofs, and dense cacti or purplish-red geraniums growing in front of them. You find it fascinating; it's a completely different kind of exotic charm.
It's good that they're there to take you; otherwise, you'd have to frantically check your address and how to get there yourself.
Good heavens! You don't have a single penny, and you don't even know the PIN for your bank card—of course, your parents here are covering your expenses in the US, so just ask them and they'll know the PIN for the supplementary card.
The house you live in is located on a small slope on the outskirts of the city. It is a two-story house used for shared accommodation. The first floor is occupied by the elderly couple whose children are away at school, so the second floor is empty.
You live on the second floor. You can walk through the back garden, where there's a separate door for tenants to avoid disturbing the owners. An external wooden staircase has been added to the garden; the stair railings are peeling and feel rough and cracked.
Anbo and the others are saying goodbye to you here. You ask them where they will be "monitoring" you, and Anbo, who has become quite familiar with you, just smiles and doesn't answer the question.
It's fine, it doesn't matter. Looking at this "house" that belongs to you, you feel genuinely relaxed, and all your fatigue surfaces. Your life is finally back to normal, at least. You need to quickly get yourself something to eat.
You carried a huge travel bag upstairs; the luggage was so heavy that the wooden planks creaked under your feet with every step.
The key... should be this one. Insert it and turn it.
With a soft click, the door opened.
Instead of the expected dusty smell, what hits you is... an indescribable stench.
Your initial reaction was alarming, and it wasn't until a while later that you remembered you had been to your relative's house, and that the boy's room smelled just like that.
Okay, it seems "you" are a slovenly person.
You look around the room, carefully avoiding stepping on the clothes scattered on the floor. The most conspicuous thing in the messy room is the unfinished, moldy pizza on the dining table, and the takeout menu with a corner folded up under the box.
You want to tidy up, but you don't know where to start.
Never mind, let's cook some frozen food first.
You glance towards the kitchen; the refrigerator beeps softly—a bad feeling creeps over you… Surely it can't be, the refrigerator should lose power soon. You go over and open the door.
The first gust of air wafted out smelled of mixed fermentation and plastic cups.
The upper freezer contained several frost-covered buns that had been carelessly tossed in, along with a broken ice cream tub. The writing on the tub was blurred by the frost, and traces of the previous consumption were still faintly visible inside. The lower refrigerator compartment, on the other hand, was a complete mess of a neglected household disaster.
An open can of black beans was sitting there; the beans inside were shriveled and collapsed, just one step away from mold. Next to it, a chicken breast had already changed color, with a greenish sheen around the edges.
In the bottom shelf of the refrigerator, there's a bag of cabbage. Combined with the bright red spice packet with the "Han Yu" logo that you found in the cupboard and the empty glass jar that's also in the fridge for some reason, "you" are probably planning to make your own spicy cabbage. Of course, the cabbage is now covered in black spots and oozing water.
You stare at the refrigerator, the icy chill hitting your face, and you're speechless. Even more speechless, you find a bulging-lid food storage container at the very back of the fridge, containing homemade tofu that's oozing acid.
That's not important. What's important is that there's a note on the box that says "Love you, my love," written in children's handwriting.
A circle of dots appeared above your head and spun around. You picked up a trash bag and threw everything in.
Fortunately, this "you" didn't leave you a stinking, worm-infested garbage can, otherwise you would really have a bellyful of anger with nowhere to vent it.
They've already started taking out the trash, so you sigh and have no choice but to roll up your sleeves and clean the whole room.
I threw the clothes that needed washing into the washing machine and added an extra amount of laundry disinfectant. Then I used a vacuum cleaner to clean everything inside and out, and wiped down the windows and tables as well.
Months of living with your child have trained you into a perfect housekeeper; you can clean the place in just one hour.
The scorching sun hadn't completely set yet.
Order takeout? Forget it, you still need to buy some household supplies, so I might as well buy the food at the same time and cook it myself when I get back.
You take out your phone and search for nearby supermarkets directly on the map.
Hmm, there's a Walmart within a kilometer, a supermarket you frequent in real life. The natural familiarity makes you happily decide, "Let's go there then."
You walk along the street with your small shoulder bag, and the street scene changes slowly. In just a few streets, the surrounding scenery has been quickly separated from the quiet residential area around your rented house.
The road suddenly became twice as wide, and the sidewalks turned into potholed concrete pavements. The neon lights on the street corner billboards were dazzling. One gas station had a huge hamburger advertisement with a close-up photo of a "special" meal that could contain 2,000 calories.
As you walked, you slowed down your pace.
The Wolma sign marked on the map was already visible. But when you actually stood in front of the building, you paused for a moment.
It's... a bit big... right?
It wasn't the spaciousness of a typical large supermarket; instead, it was eerily tall.
The three-story building has a smooth exterior, like a steel plate, with a blue and white corporate logo painted on the top. A pile of carts sits at the entrance, almost shoulder-high.
You hesitated, then reached out and pulled one. With a clang, metal clashed, and you were almost pulled over by the momentum of the cart sliding out. You also discovered that the cart's basket was almost big enough to fit a small sofa.
…You opened your mouth wide. You wondered if your brain wasn't fully recovered yet.
You touched your flat, sunken stomach, struggling with a decision. You were indeed hungry, but maybe... you should just give up?
But then your stomach cramps again, you squeeze your phone, and take a deep breath.
Since you're already here, you might as well make the best of it. It's just a big supermarket, why would you be afraid of that?
You pull out your phone, open social media, snap a selfie of yourself with the giant cart, and caption it:
[First day back home, so happy! I'll try my best to integrate into American life today^^]
Before heading out, you specially changed into a very beige gray tight-fitting short top and loose sweatpants. You looked like you only needed a pair of insect-repellent false eyelashes and sausage lips to blend in with the locals.
Then, grin open your mouth, revealing that relaxed yet slightly mischievous smile that would definitely be praised on Little Green Book as "not trying to please anyone." The filter is set to be very sunny, making you look very tanned—very good, very hot.
You clicked "publish," watched it upload successfully, and then pursed your lips and put your phone away.
After you've done the insurance work, you push that heavy cart and actually go inside.
Upon entering, you're immediately enveloped by the aroma of air conditioning, detergent, and freshly baked bread. A welcome sign stands at the entrance, featuring a large poster of the local basketball team and QR codes for various social media platforms.
Looking at that huge smiling face in the advertisement, a sense of unease rises within you. No, it's simply too enormous.
The ground floor is the deli and discount section. You first see an entire wall of cheap white bread and various canned instant pasta in large bowls wrapped in gold foil. The discount tags are all orange-red, with words like "family pack" and "special offer for two people". You grab a half-finished soup dumpling, and your palm feels heavy, weighing a full kilogram.
"...Does this mean I have to drink two liters of soup at once?"
You mutter to yourself, throw it back, and keep walking.
As you go deeper, the frequency of your foot movements slows down, and you really don't know if there's something wrong with your perception or if the surrounding space is actually starting to take on a strange proportion.
The shelves weren't the normal two or three meters high; they were as tall as two or three stories. The aisles in the middle were also ridiculously wide, allowing three or four shopping carts to pass through at the same time.
You strain to look up at the top of the shelf, where frozen pizzas and giant mayonnaise buckets hang. They're probably half your size.
You really don't know how the salespeople put the items up there, or how the customers have to go up and get them.
You park your cart in front of the freezer and look at rows of large tubs of ice cream with exaggerated designs printed on their packaging, and frozen puff pastry rolls sold by the kilogram. The packaging always bears the slogan "Special Offer, Feed the Whole Family."
You suddenly feel like an uninvited guest.
There's a vague feeling that everything here seems designed for "bigger and more people".
You continue walking and turn into another passageway.
Suddenly, the ground trembled slightly.
"Thump."
You frown.
"Thump."
The shelf wobbled. You grabbed the cart handle and quickly turned around.
"Thump, thump, thump."
An earthquake?
Two enormous figures appeared at the entrance of the passageway.
Two white people, a husband and wife, both as white as snow, with bodies... truly as big as mountains! — As big as mountains!
They were wearing matching T-shirts with the Mickelson team logo printed on them. Every inch of fabric was stretched taut, making their bellies look like huge balls!
Their thick arms were wrapped in layers of fat, and even their normal walking made the whole floor vibrate.
They stop in front of you. The smell alone makes you want to open your heart to freshen the air—a sticky, indescribable smell of sweat, deodorant, and laundry detergent.
"Wow, a rare flower country person."
The woman on the left spoke slowly, as if she were talking with syrup in her mouth.
The man on the right added with a laugh, "She looks so fit~ Poor thing, you've come to the wrong place!"
Their eyes were squinting into slits with laughter, but why did you feel... there was no kindness in their tone?
Just looking at them... you feel a kind of deep-seated repulsion. You could even call it a kind of unfounded malice.
You instinctively take a half step back, the wheels of the stroller making a sharp squeak on the floor. You grip the handrail, trying to calm yourself, and stare at them.
The girl smiled even brighter, took a step forward, and then, thud.
"Don't be afraid, we don't bite. We're just curious—how did you get here? Do you live nearby?"
You didn't answer; your eyes only held wariness.
The two women exchanged a smile and shrugged, looking somewhat helpless.
The man slowly opened his arms, indicating that he was "harmless," but the action made it seem like he wanted to pick you up—at least that's how it appeared to you.
"This isn't a place for you, little one. With your f/i-t size, you wouldn't fit into your current house if you ate the food here."
What? You're a little confused. You feel like they're threatening you, but it also feels like they're just giving you well-intentioned advice.
You lowered your voice: "Then where should I go?"
The woman tilted her head back, her eyes languid, as if she were deep in thought.
“Health is a privilege,” she said slowly. “Fitness is a privilege.”
Her partner echoed, “Privilege. You know what? You can eat ‘healthy’ food because you can afford it. Rent in a good location, tuition at a top university, and I bet you can use your university student card to use the gym for a small fee. Your parents back in the Flower Kingdom should also be very supportive of you buying fresh organic strawberries and organic oats!”
They looked somewhat indignant, as if they were resistant to something.
"But what about here?"
They turned and pointed around. There were layers upon layers of cheap, processed food: frozen pizzas, fried cookies, and 20-liter family-sized Big Macs.
"The food here is for people like us."
"If you eat this food, you'll be kicked out for damaging the houses, and you'll only be able to live in communities like this, and you'll only be able to enter supermarkets like this in the future." They gestured as they earnestly and hurriedly told you, slowing down their speech in case you didn't understand their English.
You feel a chill run down your spine, along with a sense of embarrassment.
It turns out they didn't mean any harm; you were just prejudiced and judged them by their appearance.
You sincerely step forward and shake their hands: "Thank you for informing me."
They straightened up at the same time, like synchronized statues.
"It's alright, the little one is healthy," the woman smiled, her face crinkling with laughter. "Go back to your place soon. Remember to drive, it's quite a distance."
The one on the right patted the edge of your stroller with such force it was like a muffled thunderclap.
You thanked them for their kindness and left, nodding as you went.
As you turn the corner, you glance back and see the two people still standing at the end of the shelf, waving and smiling at you.
You feel a bittersweet sense of emotion, yet also a feeling that this emotion is somewhat lofty and unattainable.
Never mind. You take out your phone and start searching for information intently.
When you type "US supermarket tiers" into the search bar, a flood of related posts pop up. One post has a very straightforward title: "How to Save Money Shopping at US Supermarkets: A Guide."
Click on it and start browsing.
It says that American supermarkets are highly tiered.
The most basic discount stores have almost no concept of organic food, and their main customer base consists of people who rely on government subsidies. The food here is extremely cheap but also extremely high in calories; these are often packaged foods, frozen semi-finished products, and canned goods.
The next level up are the affordable brands. Although they mainly sell processed products, they also sell locally grown fresh fruits and vegetables, and occasionally have their own brands with organic labels.
At the very top is the organic supermarket, which focuses on high-end and healthy products, with prices starting several times higher.
"It's almost impossible to buy healthy food in low-end supermarkets," the blogger said.
As you scroll through the page, your heart grows heavier.
You've been to cheap, low-end supermarkets when you're playing the game, but the difference between low-end and high-end there often lies in whether there's better service and shelf arrangement.
The low-end supermarkets there still have good quality organic products, and the brands are even the same as those in better supermarkets, only the variety of products is less.
But here, the Wolma... seems to have completely abandoned the "less is more" option.
You didn't enter this instance and become so dependent on organic food that your digestive system is now obsessed with it. But you know this is an instance, and you understand that foods labeled "healthy" may not make you healthier, but abandoning "healthy" foods will definitely make you sick.
You pondered the two people's reminders and started searching for the location of the high-end supermarket.
The nearest high-end supermarket is the Khufu Market. Open the map to see the details.
3 kilometers.
“Only 3 kilometers…” you murmured.
But if you look further down, the gray lines on the map will turn you into a sweaty, bean-faced mess.
The Khufu Market is surrounded by a six-lane avenue with no sidewalks.
The walking routes aren't impossible, but they're generally "not recommended." Looking at the street scene yourself, you'd probably think you wouldn't dare take the risk.
The map suggests taking public transportation or a taxi. However, this would require you to search for even more travel guides.
You're thinking of just ordering takeout, but then you discover that your community is a no-delivery zone.
Hey! Your rebellious streak is kicking in.
You pick up a box of instant noodles, a carton of eggs, and some frozen mixed vegetables. You just wait and see how such basic food will affect you!
You rushed home like you were on steroids, cooked noodles and vegetables, fried an egg, and made a small sauce with soy sauce. It smelled and looked delicious!
When you serve the pasta on a plate, the brightly colored vegetables float on top.
You stir it with a fork, and the egg curds solidify into strange lumps. You put it in your mouth—
hiss!
This is really strange, it's so salty, unbearably salty. Did you put in this much salt? And where did this artificial flavoring come from?! These vegetables taste like they've been treated with seasonings too!
The porridge rolled around in your mouth a few times, but you still swallowed it.
You quietly wait for the possible changes to occur within yourself.
not yet.
not yet?
Well.
You feel your clothes are a bit tight.
Looking down, you realize that your once loose-fitting loungewear is now clinging tightly to your waistline, and your belly is bulging out.
"...No way."
You touch your stomach, take a deep breath, and feel your stomach bloating.
"That's outrageous." Your voice was deliberate, rational, and restrained.
That's not all.
Soon, you feel an itch in your shoulder blades, and after scratching a few times, you realize that the texture under your hands is wrong.
You rush into the bathroom and turn to look at your reflection in the mirror.
Feathers have grown on your back?! Could this be a super hormone-enhanced egg?
You slam your fork down on the table, your head against the surface, making a dull thud.
Just one bite and you're already like this? You couldn't help but grit your teeth and mutter, "I don't believe that the local flower lovers here don't buy cheap stuff!"
That's right!
It is known that the unspoken rule of diet here is that eating non-organic foods will produce negative effects other than obesity.
Therefore, there will definitely be a type of blogger who teaches people who are unwilling to spend a lot of money on food how to make healthy food with a small amount of money.
You pick up your phone, open Douyin (TikTok), and search for keywords:
"Sharing delicious food that saves you money."
You clutch the fat and goosebumps that came from that bite of food fueled by calories and hormones, slump on the sofa, phone in front of your eyes, staring blankly at the screen.
The blogger on Douyin, who is dressed in a flowery style, is smiling very gently, with the camera pointed at a large bag of instant noodles printed on it.
She gently patted the packaging bag and said, "This is Grandma Huaguo's secret: everyone can eat economically and healthily. It's only two dollars on sale at the supermarket, and one big bag is enough for a family to eat four meals!"
With a snap of his fingers, the scene shifts, and the fish is thrown into the pot with a splash, accompanied by frozen vegetables.
You sat up instantly: Yes, isn't this the pot of food I cooked today?
But the subsequent video editing suddenly became high-quality.
The scene shifts to a warm-toned kitchen, with spice bottles neatly arranged and clean wood-grain paper covering the cutting board.
In slow motion, the ladle stirs the noodles in the pot, and in close-up, the noodles look exceptionally oily and bright yellow, while the ones you cook are sticky and don't hold the sauce.
The camera then pans to the frozen vegetables, which are now garnished with fresh parsley flakes, freshly ground black pepper falling like snowflakes, and topped with a spoonful of extra virgin olive oil, accompanied by her bubbly vocals.
stop.
You searched for the price of this small bottle of olive oil, and it costs $15 for 200 ml on discount websites.
Looking at the cheese powder and other seasonings she added, they were all ingredients that could only be found in organic supermarkets.
The comments section was filled with gratitude:
"Sister, please help! This is truly a blessing for poor people who want to keep their babies."
"Super useful and saves money! Waaah, if I keep gaining weight like this, I'll have to sleep on the street! People are giving me weird looks..."
At the end of the video, the blogger smiles as she holds a plate in her open kitchen with a large island counter, slowly takes a bite, and says, "It's really delicious and healthy~ It saves money and makes me happy!"
You thought for a moment.
You scroll back to the beginning of the video.
She showed pictures of shopping and food packaging, but didn't film the actual cooking process at all.
You slow down, pause, zoom in on the video...
Now we can see clearly that the vegetables being cooked weren't frozen at all, but fresh ones. I suspect the noodles were the same.
With just the addition of filters and color correction, people wouldn't notice the difference in the state of the ingredients before and after.
"It's a scam! It doesn't work at all!"
A dissenting comment popped up, but before you could even take the time to read it carefully, it was deleted.
Okay, now you understand.
If you linger long enough in this video, Douyin will start recommending more similar videos to you—almost the same template, showing you smiling as you push a shopping cart in a cheap supermarket, with discount tags on the shelves, and the final products are all secretly prepared and plated in the kitchen of a luxury apartment.
None of the things that people actually eat are from the cheap supermarket.
This thing that wasn't written in the general rules can be considered a lesson you learned.
It's getting late, and you're too lazy to get up. You've lost all your strength and don't want to take the clothes and sheets out of the dryer, so you just lie down on the sofa with a cushion in your arms.
Douyin is still pushing videos to you based on its algorithm. Since your eyes are almost closed, you naturally watch whatever comes up on your feed.
"Welcome to the meal record of a low-income family of ten."
The interface displays a home kitchen with very average image quality and no filters.
There was no fancy music; the opening scene featured only a middle-aged mother smiling at the camera.
"Hey everyone! Now I'm going to prepare tonight's dinner! Here's rice, peas, frozen leafy greens, and for protein I've prepared bacon. Okay, that's enough to feed them!"
Her smile was simple, and the video had no special filming techniques, yet it still whetted your appetite.
The camera shakily pans across the table as all the ingredients are poured into a large griddle, along with some seasoning powder. As she talks to herself, a large pot of fried rice is quickly ready.
The children were noisy, but they were just playful and well-behaved as they frolicked around their mother, eventually happily finishing off a whole table of food.
Well, there are still some people and things in this ghostly world that can make people happy.
You clicked into this blogger's homepage again, watched her videos, and quickly fell asleep.
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Author's Note: Actually, the reference for this refrigerator is from myself, hehe... I often plan to go out for only two or three days, but then I always change my plans and come back ten days or more later, so the refrigerator is full of spoiled food =. = Maybe the plastic bags released too much plasticizer, turning me into a hehe hat ^ ^ You must clean the refrigerator before going on a long trip!! This is very important for living alone!! By the way, how come it's Saturday again? I didn't do anything on Friday =. = I've been reborn, reborn in that noon when I closed my eyes and another day passed, and then another day passed. From now on, I will update properly and take back everything!
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