The Strongest Brain in the Interstellar

Although her original body was only in her teens and still considered a minor on Blue Star, she would also be classified as an undeveloped child among the interstellar people. However, perhaps due to the ample nutrition and enhanced genetics in the interstellar world, the average height of people here was much taller, even among minors.

The original body was only fifteen years old, but it was already much taller than Jiang Hui’s previous life. Yet, as a minor standing among a group of tall, well-built adults, she appeared small and pitiable.

She discreetly moved toward the edge of the space, but the elevator was only so big, and the sense of being in a confined area with others was still overwhelming. Instinctively, she tried to minimize her presence.

However, as the elevator stopped at each floor, Jiang Hui suddenly realized she had forgotten to press the floor button.

Luckily, though the elevator was crowded, there was just enough of a gap for her to see the display screen. But the display system was so complex that Jiang Hui couldn’t figure out how to read it, let alone stop at her floor.

What could Jiang Hui do at this point? She could only rummage through the corners of her memory, hoping to find some basic knowledge to solve the situation.

Unknowingly, she had moved closer to the gap in the crowd, and a few nearby adults even made some space for her.

“Are you heading to the 27th floor for a meal? No need to stop the elevator, someone’s already marked it, and it’ll stop automatically in a bit,” someone suddenly asked.

The voice had a slightly familiar accent. Jiang Hui instinctively turned her head and saw a tall young man smiling at her. Only then did she realize he was talking to her.

The cafeteria for mild cases was on the 27th floor, and Jiang Hui was surprised at how the young man knew where she was going.

The young man found it amusing. This little one, barely reaching his chest in height, was wearing the distinctive blue hospital gown for mild case patients, looking around curiously while trying to avoid the adult crowd. He figured she was a minor moving around on her own. At this time of day, anyone riding the elevator was most likely heading to the cafeteria, and the 27th floor had a designated one for such patients—an easy guess.

He couldn’t help but find the child’s attempt to act mature quite adorable.

Interstellar people were generally protective and kind toward minors. Even though the adults in the elevator appeared preoccupied, many had noticed the little one hiding in the corner. In fact, someone had already marked the 27th floor for her. However, the child seemed overly shy and afraid of them, so they tactfully chose not to scare her by interacting too much.

“Hmm? Oh, yes, it seems so.” Jiang Hui tried to identify the marked floor and found that someone had indeed already pressed it, letting her finally breathe a sigh of relief.

“Thank you,” she said repeatedly, grateful for the help.

“You’re welcome. We’re here. Just walk a bit ahead, and you’ll see the sign. I’ve heard the firebird pancakes on the 27th floor are pretty good; maybe you can give them a try…”

Jiang Hui nodded and, feeling a little awkward under everyone’s gaze, exited the elevator.

Interstellar people… actually seem quite nice.

She looked at the entrance marked for the cafeteria in the mild case area and walked in.

Although it was a hospital cafeteria, the environment and service model appeared quite good. The inside was clean and bright, with small, individual tables that gave off a rather refined vibe. It looked more like a casual lounge than a hospital dining area.

After the elevator encounter, Jiang Hui felt her distance from interstellar people and the unfamiliar environment shrink significantly, moving around much more comfortably.

However, now she faced a new problem: the cafeteria had a self-service ordering system, and the entire process was almost fully automated. Even with the original body’s memories, this system was relatively unfamiliar to her.

Jiang Hui, unable to figure out the process, had no choice but to pretend to browse through the menu while stalling. Once the people in front of her started ordering, she followed their lead and mimicked their actions.

No wonder she couldn’t make any selection earlier when she kept pressing the screen. It turned out that this was an integrated automatic ordering machine, requiring the entire process to be completed in sequence.

She copied the person in front by scanning the barcode-like tag on her wrist at the strange machine at the end, then selected her options one by one.

First, she grabbed utensils, bread, candies, and water, then finally got to the main menu. Honestly, there were too many bizarre ingredients on the screen. Not only was it impossible to tell what they were from their names, but the cooking methods also seemed strange, making it hard for her to choose.

For example, “Baba Jiao with Fried White Scales”—what even is that? It didn’t sound appetizing and seemed like an odd combination. Then there was “Bread with Screw Powder Bugs”—gross! The name alone was enough to turn anyone off, no matter what it actually was. And “Yellow Honeyfruit Stewed with Fern Dumplings”—hmm, that sounded a bit more normal, but still, she couldn’t imagine what it would taste like.

After scanning the first two rows, Jiang Hui had completely lost her appetite. But with people waiting behind her and no way to skip, she had no choice but to continue scrolling through the options.

Thankfully, on the fifth row, a more normal-sounding option finally appeared: the “Firebird Crepes,” which someone had recommended to her earlier. Without hesitation, Jiang Hui chose this, as it seemed like the safest bet. She randomly picked a few other items and, by the time she was done, she was sweating profusely.

Who knew that choosing a meal could be so exhausting? Even life in the future isn’t all that easy.

“What’s up with today’s menu? Everything is so weird,” she overheard the person behind her complaining.

Jiang Hui: … Seems like cafeteria creativity is a universal thing. Even the interstellar people don’t seem to like these dishes.

After getting her food, she found a small table to sit at by herself, ready to experience the taste of interstellar cuisine. She was also curious about the dish recommended by the guy in the elevator.

The food came neatly packaged from the machine, with the wrapping feeling both sleek and substantial. The material was something Jiang Hui had never encountered before—light and soft but sturdy, without feeling flimsy, and it seemed easy to tear open when needed.

Intrigued by the packaging for a moment, Jiang Hui carefully unwrapped it. By now, the cafeteria was starting to fill up, and even the quiet corner she had chosen was beginning to attract people.

The so-called “Firebird Crepes” were essentially similar to chicken wraps, but with a slightly different preparation. The crepe was crispy on both sides, as if grilled, while the chicken inside was incredibly tender and flavorful. The accompanying vegetables added a variety of textures that Jiang Hui couldn’t quite identify but found pleasantly complex. Each bite was delicious, comparable to the finest food she’d ever had on Earth, and everything was perfectly balanced.

Could this be the standard for interstellar cuisine? If so, it was truly enviable. After all, if a civilization never experiences a break in its progress, it’s only natural that culinary arts would evolve alongside technological advancements.