This restaurant has a retro, glittering golden name called "The Gold Standard". Its official rating is "five stars", while the public rating is "dog shit".

According to feedback from the masses who have been here, they really only have two things that meet the so-called "five-star standard": the ostentatious gold-colored tiles on the walls and the unattainably high prices on the menu.

However, as one of the most famous temples of pretentiousness in the city, even though it's all glitter and no substance, it still attracts a steady stream of pretentious fools lining up to get fleeced.

...Of course, almost everyone who comes here to use their hemorrhaging wallets to give themselves a golden face ends up leaving the bill with gritted teeth, muttering: "How have they not gone out of business yet?"

Slow service, bad review! Drinks look unappetizing, bad review! Not a single service staff, all robots, bad review for ten thousand years!

Mr. Robin forcefully adjusted his flamboyant bow tie and glared fiercely at his assistant Xiao Zhu.

The incompetent Xiao Zhu could only lower her head and tuck in her chest, pretending to be a nonexistent quail.

The waiting Mr. Robin turned his gaze back to the front entrance of "The Gold Standard" restaurant, just in time to see a female customer wearing high heels trip over the threshold there. The foolish serving robot stood to the side at a loss, shaking its big iron head back and forth - that's right, in order to prevent these stupid service robots from getting lost, the restaurant actually set up a 30cm thick threshold at the door!

It was a miserable sight...

"Can't they upgrade the systems of those crappy robots?" thought Mr. Robin resentfully, having accidentally twisted his ankle there when entering earlier.

Just as that female customer looked about to faceplant, a figure suddenly walked in backlit from the door. In a flash, before anyone could react, he swiftly reached out a hand and accurately caught the falling woman. Then very naturally, with a lift upwards, he seemed to effortlessly hoist the 100+ pound adult over the 30cm high threshold.

"What a hero," Mr. Robin leisurely swirled his drink, turning to Xiao Zhu. "He's practiced, hasn't he? Good moves!"

The woman, her fright just settled, hurriedly expressed her thanks. The figure at the door seemed to give a small smile, very graciously letting her pass, then stepped inside.

"Wait a minute boss, why is he walking towards us?" Xiao Zhu asked in horror. "And nodding at you?"

Before he finished speaking, Mr. Robin gaped as the "hero" had already walked straight up to stand in front of him. Lightly clicking his heels together, upper body ramrod straight, the fingers resting against his pant seams twitched slightly, as if wanting to raise a hand in salute. Then seeming to realize it wasn't the right occasion, lowered the half-raised hand, maintaining a standard attention posture, and very politely inclined his head in greeting.

Mr. Robin's neck was craned back so far it almost snapped, a feeble struggling voice sounding in his inner world: "I remember I was waiting for the daughter of my old friend, a young lady nicknamed Xiao Luo Luo..."

The person of ambiguous gender looked at him and enunciated: "Uncle Robin, hello, I am Fu Luo."

Her voice was very unique, lower than a woman's, clearer than a man's, subtly in between the two. Her words fell like pearls, not the slightest bit slurred. Mr. Robin couldn't help rubbing his eyes, his worldview shattered.

His assistant Xiao Zhu looked at one, then the other, at a loss. Based on her three years of experience reading expressions as an assistant, Xiao Zhu judged that her boss was likely so shocked his soul had left his body and was preparing to ascend.

Mr. Robin was a person who was flamboyant, extravagant, and lacking substance, a nationally renowned pretentious git, infamous to a bloody degree.

He was the world's most famous image designer, specializing in serving politicians of various countries.

Speaking of the image design industry, it was all a load of crap. At present, the level and cost of genetic plastic surgery had completely reached the point of entering ordinary households.

Major surgeries like brain and body modification had been explicitly banned by countries due to endless emerging side effects. But the risks of appearance-altering surgeries were very low, no higher than an appendectomy.

However, genetic plastic surgery had not been widely promoted. People's acceptance of it was not much higher than ancient people's acceptance of bloody plastic surgery methods three centuries ago. Although some would still secretly get minor adjustments, to dare to get it to the point your own mother wouldn't recognize you, that still required a bunch of open-minded to the point of idiocy parents.

Ever since humans began consciously hyping up all kinds of heaven and earth treasures, the pursuit of "natural" and disdain for "artificial" had been written into the foundations of civilization.

If any public figure was exposed to have an "artificial" face, then that was a huge deal, definitely a skeleton in the closet, waiting to be dragged out and flogged a hundred times.

And Mr. Robin was an expert at "natural adornment".

His sky-high fees were hard to meet. Countless A-list celebrities groveled at the feet of this beauty expert, finding it hard to gain entry. If he didn't use "being a diva" and "putting on airs" to refuse the overly abundant clientele, he'd probably be worked to death by now.

It goes without saying that Mr. Robin's temper was also not exactly humble.

In Assistant Xiao Zhu's view, for her esteemed boss to deign to wait for someone at a restaurant was already inconceivable. And the one he waited for actually dared to be so presumptuous as to address Mr. Robin, whose face didn't even have a single wrinkle, by a generational title right off the bat.

Xiao Zhu clutched her bag, ready for her boss to storm off in a huff the next second.

However, the sun rose from the east today. Mr. Robin, wearing a face that looked like it had been struck by lightning and was on its last legs, actually wasn't angry. He even overperformed, squeezing out a kindly smile, and asked in a tone used for kindergarteners: "Okay, okay... Mm, Xiao Luo Luo is it? In the blink of an eye you've grown so much, I couldn't even recognize you. Where's your mom? She didn't come with you?"

The person maintained an attentive posture, as if giving a report: "She's rushing over from work. Five minutes ago her aircraft coordinates showed she was stuck in the second ring road in the air. Based on today's traffic model, it's estimated she still needs 25 minutes to get here."

The corner of Mr. Robin's eye twitched. "Oh, okay, you... you can stop standing, hurry and sit, have a seat."

Upon hearing the command, Fu Luo performed a standard left turn, maintaining an equal distance with each step. In two strides, she reached the opposite side of Robin, pulled out a chair, and sat down in one fluid motion... She truly moved like the wind and sat like a bell.

Robin found himself engaged in a staring contest with this - let's just call it an unidentified living being that could pass for a "young lady" - sitting across from him. His tongue was tied for a long time as he racked his brain, only to discover he had nothing to say.

Finally, Xiao Zhu gently tugged at him: "Boss, should we order first?"

Only then did Robin come back to his senses. He pressed the automatic service system activation button at the corner of the table, spreading out the ordering menu on the tabletop touchscreen: "Ah... right, right, order, order."

So who was this person in front of him?

This is what was written on her ID card -

Name: Fu Luo.

Gender: Female.

This precious 32nd generation ID card was the only thing that could prove her innocence when she was beaten out of the women's restroom after being mistaken for a hooligan.

Fu Luo would be turning twenty-three years old this autumn.

In the year 2413 AD, after the explosion of science and technology, the average human lifespan was approaching two hundred years old. A "twenty-three-year-old girl" was undoubtedly in the most tender maiden period. Hearing this, people would still associate it with a series of beautiful images such as "in the prime of youth" and "the best years", like a delicate flower about to bloom, still covered in dew.

As for Fu Luo, this delicate flower, she was one meter and seventy-five centimeters tall, weighed seventy kilograms, had thick eyebrows and big eyes, and her skin was tanned to a wheat color. She wasn't fat, but sturdy, with well-developed muscles in her arms that made her shoulders broad, like a large eagle about to spread its wings. Robin estimated that the shoulder width of her top could be close to 44 centimeters, while her waistline was very trim, clearly the result of regular exercise, and her spine was ramrod straight... This was such a standard masculine physique!

She was rough and large from every angle!

Fu Luo was wearing a set of men's casual clothes, with a hairstyle that was slightly longer than a crew cut. The short, spiky hair stuck out in all directions like a hedgehog. On her bony wrist was a very old military watch, its strap worn beyond recognition, with a corner of the dial chipped by something and re-glued, making it look even more tattered.

Was her mother so poor that she couldn't even afford to buy her child a new watch? Robin looked at her, unconsciously humming a tune in his head: The little courier brother, you are mighty and heroic, the galloping little donkey is like a rocket...

When a man beautiful enough to be on a magazine cover at any time and this... well, gender-questionable young tomboy sat face to face, the visual impact was incomparable.

Xiao Zhu, playing her role as an assistant, carefully asked, "So what does Fu Luo like to eat?"

Fu Luo turned her gaze to her, a hint of a stingy smile appearing on her expressionless face: "Don't stand on ceremony, you order, it's my treat today."

As Xiao Zhu met her eyes, she couldn't help but be stunned for a moment. She saw that this person's features were bold and upright, her eyes bright and spirited, even glowing under the light.

"Quite handsome," Xiao Zhu suddenly had this thought in her mind, and her face turned a little red.

Xiao Zhu had once heard a restored storytelling performance at the History Museum. Letting her imagination run wild, she felt that Miss Fu was so handsome that she had an air of antiquity. In the words of the storytelling lyrics, if only she were given a set of "lion helmet and kirin armor, big red colorful tiger head combat boots", and shouldered a "black gold nine-ring broadsword" that was taller than a man, she would be an impressive "smoke-stained Taisui and fire-scorched Vajra"!

Robin felt a pain in his back molars as he recalled the situation Fu Luo's mother had described to him on the phone, something about "already graduated, plain-looking", "not very sensible, just in time for her long vacation, let her follow you, consider it an internship". After hearing that, he thought he would be facing a plain-looking, self-conscious and introverted little girl, but who knew...

This was truly the rhythm of expecting a miniature electric baton and getting a plasma cannon instead.

Robin had already vaguely guessed the truth, but still clung to a last thread of hope and asked, "What school did Xiao Luo attend, and what was her major?"

Liberal arts, science, business, art, medicine, anything would do, even if it was a specialty in "Space Pig Farming Technology"...

As a result, Fu Luo's expression turned solemn, and she replied in a proper tone, "Military Commission directly affiliated academy, Space Combat Department."

Xiao Zhu's hand trembled, and the finger that was just touching the ordering menu "clicked" on the "Hell Spicy" option. The humane system, upon hearing this, quickly popped up a prompt dialog box - "Gentle reminder, this dish is extremely spicy and can easily cause a series of adverse gastrointestinal reactions such as diarrhea. Please choose carefully and reconfirm. People with hemorrhoids, please pay special attention to your health. I repeat, people with hemorrhoids, please pay attention to your health"...

Xiao Zhu hurriedly closed the disruptive dialog box with a sickly expression.

"You, from the Space Combat Department," Robin looked at this elite from the "future general training base" earnestly, spitting out the words one by one, "are coming to my image design company for a six-week 'internship'?"

This time, Fu Luo was silent for two seconds before answering frankly, "It's not an internship. Our internships are all arranged by the school. I just graduated from school this year and am preparing for formal service. There's a six-week vacation in between... It was all forced by my mom."

Robin leaned back in his chair, exhausted: "Tell uncle, what does your mom mean?"

Fu Luo recited in a flat tone, "She said, 'If you dare not go, I'll die right in front of you. The Abyssal Cosmos Garbage Dump will be my eternal resting place. Becoming a piece of space junk is better than being upset by you all day!'"

Robin covered his face with both hands, and after a while, groaned, "Not bad, that's exactly her style."

...If only Robin's tone didn't sound so bitter and resentful.