Future Love Contract (GL) - Chapter 5

Upon arriving at the store, Zhao Xinyun glanced around. Her thoughts at the moment were probably like that of the little horse in the story: “The river isn’t as deep as the little squirrel said, but it’s not as shallow as Uncle Ox claimed either.” It felt just like an ordinary small supermarket back on Earth—of course, she meant Earth six hundred years in the future.

There was more than one couple shopping nearby, but even as she and Gresya walked hand in hand, Zhao Xinyun didn’t notice anyone casting strange looks their way. She sighed in appreciation. This was one thing the future had done right—same-s3x relationships were commonplace. That would definitely make things easier for them down the line.

But… what did that have to do with her? She and Gresya weren’t really a couple! Besides, the way they looked now, even as close girlfriends, it wouldn’t seem strange at all. So in this future world, how exactly were people supposed to distinguish lesbians from best friends? Could only people who knew them personally tell the difference?

Zhao Xinyun casually picked a few vegetables and some condiments off the shelf. As for how to cook them—well, she had forgotten most of that after transmigrating, but she could just look up recipes online. That’s how she’d done it in her previous life whenever she wanted to eat something specific. When it came to knowing which fruits were the tastiest or which meats were freshest—those were deeper mysteries she still didn’t grasp. All she could do was rely on luck and trust the supermarket’s standards.

They piled their cart full of various foods and returned home fully stocked. Zhao Xinyun began looking up recipes on her tablet. Gresya activated the robotic vacuum and then leaned over curiously.

“What are you planning to cook?”

Zhao Xinyun turned around. “I’m not sure yet.”

“…You mean you bought all this stuff without even knowing what you were going to make?”

“Actually, I usually look for recipes based on whatever ingredients I already have at home. Ooh, I want to eat this!”

“……” Gresya responded with a long silence.

Zhao Xinyun quickly skimmed through the recipe, memorized it, tossed the tablet aside, jumped up from the sofa, and dashed into the kitchen.

She threw rice into the rice cooker, rinsed the chicken wings thoroughly, then coated them with honey and seasoning. Then came a quick inventory: meat, potatoes, onions, eggs, flour, breadcrumbs, salt, pepper, sesame oil, sugar, starch… She chopped the potatoes and set them to steam, then tossed the meat into the blender.

She thought about the croquettes she had made before transmigrating. Back then, she didn’t even have proper kitchen tools—just a fruit knife, which she used to painstakingly chop meat into tiny bits. Compared to that, the conditions now were luxurious. Even so, she still missed those days. No matter what, she could never go back. The fact that something as rare as transmigration had happened to her—what kind of changes would it bring to her life moving forward?

Sitting on the sofa, Gresya looked up and saw Zhao Xinyun zoning out while staring at the blender, lost in thought.

“What’s wrong?”

The question snapped Zhao Xinyun out of it. “Nothing. I was just remembering how I made croquettes before. Thinking through the steps again.” Thank goodness she hadn’t accidentally said too much. In a world as technologically advanced as this, a case of transmigration would definitely attract attention. Even if Gresya didn’t spread the word, who knew if the walls had ears? She might get hauled off to be studied.

“Ah.” Gresya didn’t notice anything odd. “Then you must be a better cook than me—you’ve got experience.”

“Please don’t say that. I rarely cooked for anyone else. I was always my own one-person customer base. So if it doesn’t taste good, don’t blame me.”

Forget it—there was no point in clinging to memories of her past life. Worrying about an unknown future wouldn’t help either. She had to face the present. She added the onions to the blender, stir-fried the minced meat and onions, and sprinkled in some pepper. Once the potatoes were soft, she mashed them and mixed in the meat and onion filling.

“You said this is croquettes? Don’t you need cola?”

“……” Now it was Zhao Xinyun’s turn to go silent. She rolled her eyes. “Is your reaction time always this slow?” This definitely wasn’t how she should be treating a financial backer—but wait, where did that term even come from?! “And no, the name ‘croquette’ has nothing to do with cola.”

She remembered from her past life that the name actually came from French, but in this futuristic world, who even spoke French anymore? So she stopped herself and changed the subject. “Anyway, it’s just a name. You don’t need to put cola in it.”

She shaped the mashed potatoes into patties, coated them with flour, dipped them in egg wash, covered them in breadcrumbs, and dropped them into the hot oil. The croquettes were ready. The rice was done, the chicken wings went into the oven, and she whipped up two quick vegetable dishes.

Once the meal was finished, Zhao Xinyun collapsed on the sofa and stretched. “Try it and see. I’m not sure how it turned out.” Though she said it casually, she was very nervous. She kept sneaking glances at Gresya, afraid she wouldn’t like the food—and even more afraid she’d catch her staring.

“Wow! I had no idea you could cook like this… It’s amazing!” Gresya exclaimed. Though her reaction was a bit exaggerated, clearly a result of her playful nature, she was obviously pleased with the dishes.

Round one: success. —Wait a second, she hadn’t transmigrated into a mission-system novel, had she?

The two of them ate and chatted.

“So, what do you think of the Second Venus Base?” Zhao Xinyun asked, just making small talk.

“It’s great—better than I expected.”

“Didn’t you just tell me in the car that it doesn’t compare to Mars? No regrets?”

“I guess…” Gresya thought carefully. “I think I’ve always had a bit of a restless streak. I keep thinking—there are so many new things happening in the world. If I couldn’t be a part of them, that would feel really awful.”

Zhao Xinyun also fell into thought. She’d wanted to say, There’s an endless number of new things in the world; no one person can experience them all, but even her post-transmigration self had to admit that Venus was more exciting than Earth. “I feel the same way.”

The original owner of this body probably felt the same too—otherwise, she wouldn’t have gone to such lengths to come to Venus. Her past self was also curious and drawn to new experiences. Otherwise, transmigration would’ve been unbearable. Now, she only occasionally felt anxious, but most of the time, she was excited by the future’s advanced technology. Although, with the memories of two lifetimes, that sense of novelty was somewhat dulled. Still, maybe that was just a trait of youth. “I think experiencing things you’ve never gone through before… is a kind of joy.”

But speaking of coming to Venus, Zhao Xinyun suddenly felt like the original owner of this body had forgotten something—like there was a part of her memory that was missing, and no matter what, she just couldn’t remember it. She raised a finger to her temple, closed her eyes, and tried to recall.

“What’s wrong?” Gresya asked with concern.

“It’s nothing. I’m just a little tired from work today,” Zhao Xinyun said, shaking her head. These were things she couldn’t share with anyone.

Gresya’s eyes widened. “Oh no, then I shouldn’t have let you cook today. I’m really sorry!”

“It’s fine. My body isn’t tired—just my brain is.” That part, at least, was true. “Cooking actually helps me relax mentally. So in that sense, I should be thanking you.”

But right now, Zhao Xinyun was deeply troubled. The missing memory was probably connected to why she had transmigrated. Falling asleep on a park bench like a homeless person—especially in a place like the Second Venus Base—wasn’t something that happened every day. And her past self had rushed into coming to Venus without any sort of plan—that was suspicious too.

Normally, in stories, memory loss happens for a reason. If it were something trivial—like what she ate last year—it wouldn’t feel like something was missing. So what exactly had she forgotten? Why had she forgotten it? And if she couldn’t remember, would it affect her future?

For now, no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t recall anything. All she could do was let it go temporarily.

When Zhao Xinyun opened her eyes again, Gresya finally looked relieved.

“Do you want to take a break?”

“I’m really fine. As long as I don’t think about anything complicated, it already feels like rest. Or maybe just put on some music.”

There was a button on the dining table. Gresya pressed it a few times, and to Zhao Xinyun’s mild surprise, people in the future still listened to music that had been called “classical” six hundred years ago. Taking a deep breath, she decided to set aside her thoughts about the missing memory and focus on dinner.

With music playing… if they lit a few candles, poured some red wine… it would be so romantic.

The thought suddenly entered her mind. —But that wasn’t something she should be thinking about. After all, the person sitting across from her wasn’t her real girlfriend.