Food: Randomly set up stalls, even the little guy is drooling.

Fisherman's Wharf sounds like an ordinary wharf name.

Decades ago, this was indeed just a dock. But now, it's a well-known street for late-night snacks and bars in Changsha.

The Hong Kong-Singapore River cuts through the city.

Fisherman's Wharf is located on the banks of the Xiangjiang River, covering an area of ​​two kilometers. It is brightly lit at night and is a favorite nighttime city for young people.

Tang Xingzhou is such a young man. He loves bar culture the most. The bars in the city center of Xingcheng may be more lively, but the cost of several thousand yuan a night is simply not something he can afford.

His rented apartment was nearby, so Fisherman's Wharf became his best choice.

Despite it being Monday, he still met up with friends at a street food stall and ate for almost three hours, starting around 7 p.m.

At 10:15 p.m., the barbecue restaurant by the river was filled with smoke and bustling with noise. Tang Xingzhou and three buddies strolled out of the restaurant, their faces flushed and reeking of alcohol.

"Ah Zhou, let's go, let's move on to the next round!" A guy put his arm around his shoulder and gestured toward a bar not far away.

Tang Xingzhou shook his head. His buddy leaned close to his ear and whispered, "The manager said the girls today are top-notch. There aren't many, so no one's fighting over them."

"I'm not going, I'm not going, you guys go ahead." Tang Xingzhou quickly waved his hand again, "I have to submit a proposal to the boss at 8 o'clock tomorrow, so I have to go back to the company to work overtime now."

"That's a shame. Okay, then the three of us will go." The three guys then walked towards the bar with their arms around each other's shoulders.

Tang Xingzhou pulled a box of Furongwang cigarettes from his pocket, lit one for himself, and watched his friends stagger into the bar.

He gave a wry smile. His words just now were merely an excuse; in the end, he still had some self-awareness.

I've been working for over two years and haven't saved a single penny of my salary. No matter how fun bars are, you need money to go there.

He used to enjoy bars, but looking at his empty online account, he suddenly felt it wasn't worth it.

It was late autumn, and standing by the river, the cold wind made the few bottles of beer I had just drunk feel like they were burning in my stomach.

He then realized that they had been drinking and bragging all the time, barely eating any barbecue skewers and not ordering any fried rice.

In the time it takes to smoke a cigarette, my stomach feels empty and uncomfortably empty.

He then opened his phone to hail a taxi, but seeing that Dada Taxi wouldn't arrive for another 10 minutes, he decided to go to the convenience store to buy some bread to tide him over.

As soon as he stepped out of the street full of late-night snacks, an indescribable aroma, mixed with the smoky and chili smell of the surrounding barbecue, wafted into his nose.

This definitely doesn't smell like barbecue; he gets sick of the smell every time he eats it.

He thought about it carefully and realized it was the aroma of fermented wheat, which gave him a warm feeling.

Yes! He suddenly remembered his childhood, when he always looked forward to his grandmother taking him to the breakfast stall. The moment the owner lifted the steamer, he would feel the warm steam and the comforting aroma.

Hungry! Even hungrier!

He followed the scent and froze.

There really was a steamed bun stall. It was a very common food cart, equipped with a small lamp.

The stall owner was a young man like him, who was looking down at the steamer in his hands, his face hidden in the rising steam.

"Holy crap..." Tang Xingzhou couldn't help but laugh. "Wow, is there really someone selling steamed buns on a late-night food street? Is this guy putting on some kind of performance art?"

He strode forward; his stomach was growling with hunger anyway, and a hot bun would be better than a cold loaf of bread.

What's more, the aroma whetted his appetite, and it looked especially tempting against the backdrop of the cold air.

Tang Xingzhou said, "Boss, two steamed buns, please."

"Alright." Lu Feng had just finished steaming the first batch of buns when someone came to his door.

However, considering the system's pricing, he still had to remind the customer in front of him, "What kind of buns would you like? You can check the signboard."

Tang Xingzhou then realized that he was so drunk that he had forgotten what kind of drink he wanted.

He looked up at the signboard and saw that meat buns were 10 yuan each and vegetable buns were 10 yuan each.

"How much?" He couldn't believe it; he was a bit more sober now, and his voice rose slightly. "Ten yuan for a steamed bun?"

The meat buns he usually buys cost only 2.5 yuan each, and even at those old shops, the most expensive one is only 5 yuan. And this vegetable bun, it's the same price as the meat one?

Lu Feng had anticipated his words and said, "The steamed buns in our shop are made with the hind leg meat of free-range pigs that have been raised for a full year, and the vegetable buns are made with fresh organic vegetables air-freighted from the mountains at an altitude of 1500 meters..."

Tang Xingzhou gave him a "you're kidding me" look and turned to leave.

He had only taken two steps when he could no longer move.

These steamed buns are indeed expensive, but they taste really good.

We had barbecue tonight, which cost nearly 200 yuan per person, and he paid it off without batting an eye.

Tang Xingzhou, Tang Xingzhou, you're so eager to eat, yet you think a 10-yuan steamed bun is too expensive?

He successfully convinced himself, turned around and went back to the steamed bun stall, scanned the code for 10 yuan, and said, "Boss, give me a meat bun."

Upon hearing the notification that the first transaction of "10 yuan has been credited to your account," Lu Feng chuckled and said, "Just a moment."

Tang Xingzhou watched as the young boss in front of him lifted the lid of the steamer.

The moment the lid was lifted, steam surged out, and a fragrance several times stronger than before swept over, directly hitting Tang Xingzhou's face.

It smells so good! Just for that smell alone, his turning around was worth it.

"Here you go." Lu Feng put the buns in a paper bag and handed them over.

The steamed buns I received were the usual size made at breakfast stalls, and the heat from the paper bag warmed my hands.

Using the dim light from the stall, Tang Xingzhou opened the bag.

These buns are perfectly shaped, with a pleasing curve, and the dough looks soft and fluffy. They're definitely different from the ones I usually eat.

He didn't have the patience to wait for the buns to cool down, so he stood by the stall, blew on them twice, and then took a big bite.

After taking the first bite, Tang Xingzhou paused.

The texture is as soft as biting into cotton, and the natural sweetness of wheat melts between your teeth, while the slight chewiness provides just the right amount of enjoyment.

Before he could even feel it, the slightly hot soup flowed into his mouth.

It's a little hot! Tang Xingzhou had just thought this when, in the next second, the delicious taste stole all his attention.

So fresh! So pure and fresh! The freshness goes straight to the top of your head! This isn't the kind of freshness that comes from MSG or chicken essence; it's the natural sweetness of the meat itself!

At that moment, Tang Xingzhou realized that the boss was not lying.

He seemed to see a little pig running freely in the mountain stream, and when it got tired, it would drink a mouthful of cool mountain spring water.

Only meat from such local pigs deserves such freshness and aroma!

Tang Xingzhou ate a lot of meat skewers today, and he can't remember the taste anymore.

But after eating that bun, only one thought could pop into his head:

What kind of junk did I just eat?