At that moment, Jiang Chen's mood could only be described as utterly ridiculous—like he had just been played for a fool. No, scratch that. It was more like he'd just realized the hard way that reality often has a twisted sense of humor.
The realization hit him when he noticed something odd about the sensation under his hand. It didn't feel... natural. That's when it dawned on him. It was silicone. Yep, the gorgeous woman who had been so polite and accommodating? She was a robot.
Jiang Chen could only laugh bitterly at his own cluelessness. Initially, he'd thought the "Unit 410" label was just some quirky identifier and that her impeccable manners were thanks to top-tier service training. Turns out, it was all thanks to advanced engineering.
It took a thorough "examination" on his part to confirm the truth, and boy, did it explain a lot—like how everything about her was so "precisely measured."
Still, this was just a minor hiccup in the grand scheme of things. A toy is a toy. Jiang Chen wasn't about to get hung up on it. That said, his enthusiasm for certain... activities evaporated. For him, some pleasures were best enjoyed with another real human being.
The thought of what the Paradise Island manager might think if they knew Jiang Chen's sentiments was almost comical. That robot was a premium product, designed with flawless human ergonomics and golden ratio proportions. No human could match its precision. Plus, no risk of disease, no unexpected pregnancies—just clean, efficient, reusable fun. But, of course, cultural differences meant their efforts were wasted on someone like Jiang Chen, who preferred genuine emotional connections over technical perfection.
Thus, the robot was relegated to less glamorous duties, like massaging Jiang Chen's shoulders or fetching fruit from a can.
Lying back on a magnetic levitation recliner, Jiang Chen declined the hotel's meal service. Instead, he leisurely commanded the robotic woman to spear a slice of tangerine with a toothpick and feed it to him. This was decadence at its finest.
But as a day passed without any visitors, Jiang Chen began to question his strategy.
Strange... Shouldn't someone have approached me by now? Do I need to make the first move?
Frowning, Jiang Chen considered his options. Being new to the area, he wasn't sure who to approach. Still, he'd listed "Fishbone Food Company" as his affiliation during check-in. Surely, anyone interested in his business would have taken the bait by now.
Unbeknownst to Jiang Chen, his concerns were unnecessary.
At that very moment, a shrewd merchant named Zhao Chenwu, who could sniff out profit like a bloodhound, was already on his way.
The doorbell chimed.
"Come in," Jiang Chen called out. The voice-activated system unlocked the door, allowing his guest to enter.
Jiang Chen remained seated but straightened up slightly as a polite gesture. He then motioned for his visitor to take a seat.
Zhao Chenwu's eyes lingered briefly on the fruit can sitting on the table, but his expression remained neutral. Only the slight movement of his throat betrayed his thoughts.
Trailing behind Zhao was his secretary, Su Lei, whose composed demeanor didn't falter, even as her gaze briefly scanned the table.
Jiang Chen noticed this and couldn't help but feel a flicker of satisfaction.
Trying to act uninterested? That just proves you're intrigued.
Why?
Because in a post-apocalyptic world, food is worth its weight in gold. If someone sees such a treasure and pretends not to care, it's almost certainly a calculated act. And calculated acts mean they're ready to negotiate.
Negotiation was precisely why Jiang Chen was here. Now it was just a matter of seeing how much he could gain from the deal.
"Good day, Mr. Jiang. I'm Zhao Chenwu, and this is my secretary, Su Lei," Zhao said, getting straight to the point. Su Lei bowed slightly to show respect.
"Oh? It seems you've done your homework," Jiang Chen replied with a faint smirk.
Zhao Chenwu's expression didn't waver. "You left such detailed information during check-in, Mr. Jiang. Surely, you expected someone to come knocking."
He wasn't wrong. While guests weren't required to disclose their affiliations, Jiang Chen had intentionally listed himself as a representative of the Fishbone Food Company. It was practically an invitation for inquiries.
"Haha, fair enough. Let's not dwell on that. Since I have esteemed guests, it wouldn't do to be inhospitable." Jiang Chen gestured to the robotic woman, who promptly headed to the kitchen.
Zhao Chenwu studied Jiang Chen with an unreadable expression, while Jiang Chen discreetly observed his guest in return.
Moments later, the robot returned with two plates of neatly arranged tangerine slices, placing them gently before Zhao Chenwu and his secretary.
"Canned tangerines—one of our company's specialties," Jiang Chen announced with a smile. "This particular can was already opened, so I had my assistant prepare fresh servings. I must admit, I have a personal fondness for tangerines, so they're the only fruit I brought with me. I hope you don't mind."
Mind? Zhao Chenwu was internally fuming.
This guy is showing off.
Fresh, tender tangerine slices like these hadn't been seen since the early post-apocalypse days when supermarkets still had stock to scavenge. Those days were long gone.
It had been ten years since Zhao Chenwu last tasted tangerines this succulent. As he bit into one, an uncharacteristic look of delight flashed across his face. However, upon noticing Jiang Chen's knowing smirk, he quickly schooled his features back to neutrality.
The fact that Jiang Chen was serving such rare delicacies was proof of his sincerity—and his wealth. The gesture of inviting both Zhao and his secretary to partake was a clear message: Jiang Chen wasn't here to waste time.
As Su Lei continued eating with a composed facade, Zhao Chenwu rubbed his chin thoughtfully. He speared another tangerine slice but refrained from eating it.
There will be time to enjoy this later, he reminded himself.
Business comes first.
"Does it taste good?" Jiang Chen asked with a smile, popping a slice of tangerine into his mouth.
"It's delicious. Honestly, while the Sixth District does produce some fruit, the yield is extremely limited. Due to radiation, the variety is inconsistent, and only a small portion is safe to eat. The rest has to be processed for nutritional extraction," Zhao Chenwu explained. His tone was casual—this wasn't classified information. Anyone from the slums or the market could tell you the same thing. Sharing it openly might even earn Jiang Chen's trust.
"I've heard as much. That's why I smelled an opportunity," Jiang Chen nodded thoughtfully.
"Then I assume the canned goods that recently appeared at the trade hub were your doing?" Zhao Chenwu inquired, his tone calm but probing.
"Correct. I sold them to the hub for 50 Azure Crystals per can. Word has it they were later resold for 60 a can," Jiang Chen replied with a chuckle.
"And now, you're in the inner circle, not the outer market. I presume you're here for a larger deal?" Zhao Chenwu's face lit up with a hint of anticipation.
"Precisely. I'm confident my goods will have no trouble finding buyers in the Sixth District."
This was the moment Jiang Chen had been waiting for. A faint, almost imperceptible smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. Who brought up the business proposal first was critical in negotiations—letting the other party lead often gave the upper hand. Zhao Chenwu, it seemed, couldn't hold back any longer.
The goods truly were a hot commodity. As a seasoned capitalist, Zhao Chenwu wouldn't let such an opportunity slip away.
"Then, may I have the honor of being your trade partner?" Zhao Chenwu asked with a playful smile.
"Of course, provided Mr. Zhao can prove himself capable," Jiang Chen replied, his answer deliberately vague.
"It seems you haven't done your research on me yet," Zhao Chenwu chuckled.
"It's inefficient to investigate every gentleman in the inner circle. My policy is simple: anyone or any organization meeting my criteria can become a trade partner. I trust that by appearing here, someone with vision would approach me. It was only a matter of time," Jiang Chen replied evenly.
However, Zhao Chenwu caught on to a critical revelation hidden in Jiang Chen's words.
"Wait, did you say 'trade'? Are you implying you can provide a stable supply?" Zhao Chenwu shot up from his seat, leaning on the table as he stared at Jiang Chen in disbelief.
A stable supply? That was unheard of in the Sixth District. Was Jiang Chen backed by an external organization, perhaps one beyond the borders of Wanghai City? Could it be a biomesphere simulation facility? Whatever it was, Zhao Chenwu knew one thing for sure—this deal was too big to pass up.
"Mr. Zhao, you seem overly excited," Jiang Chen said, his tone calm despite the satisfaction he felt internally.
"My apologies. Allow me to reintroduce myself," Zhao Chenwu said, adjusting his collar and extending a hand. "Zhao Chenwu, Member of the Ten-Person Council and CEO of the Zhao Group. On behalf of the Zhao Group, I welcome your company to the Sixth District for trade negotiations."
A member of the Ten-Person Council!
Jiang Chen was taken aback. These were the true power brokers of the Sixth District, a neutral territory dominated by capitalist giants.
Moreover, since the Zhao Group was part of the Sixth District, Jiang Chen felt reassured about the safety of his dealings. The district's rule of absolute neutrality wasn't just a slogan—it was a discipline strictly enforced for over two decades, the cornerstone of its existence.
Standing up from the sofa, Jiang Chen shook Zhao Chenwu's hand and reciprocated the goodwill.
"I'm Jiang Chen, here as a trade representative. On behalf of Fishbone Food Company, I extend my regards to the Zhao Group... but let's skip the pleasantries and get down to business, shall we?" Jiang Chen smiled.
"Haha! Mr. Jiang, you're a straightforward man. I like that," Zhao Chenwu replied, visibly pleased as he laughed heartily.
Initially, Zhao Chenwu had assumed Jiang Chen was just another wandering merchant, a common sight in the wasteland—someone who dealt in rare goods but was unlikely to return once their wares were sold. After all, drifters rarely stayed in one place for long.
But the mention of a long-term trade deal changed everything.
A stable trade route connecting the Sixth District with external survivor settlements, delivering high-demand luxury items like canned goods? This was a game-changer. Zhao Chenwu silently thanked his foresight for acting quickly. Letting such a lucrative opportunity slip away would've made him the laughingstock of the inner circle.