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

As Yang Song stepped forward, the rich aroma of meat mixed with the scent of wheat in the air stimulated his sense of smell.

"Interesting." Yang Song sniffed; this aroma was good enough for him.

Instead of going up directly, he first observed the stall owner's operation.

Behind the stall, the vendor, wearing an Ultraman mask, was immersed in his own rhythm.

Lu Feng is preparing for the diners who will arrive later. Here, he doesn't have a high-tech insulated box, so he can't keep the semi-finished products in the best condition.

His only solution was to make it happen on the spot.

This is a small stall after all, and the tools they provide are not large steamers, but medium-sized ones with three layers, each layer can hold about 12 people.

After the first batch sold out, while the dough was still steaming, Lu Feng started making steamed buns with the dough that had been proofed in advance.

Yang Song looked closely and saw that the dough on the stall owner's worktable was round and smooth after it had risen.

Lu Feng worked incredibly fast, kneading the dough, dividing it into portions, and rolling out the wrappers. The rolling pin in his hands was like a ruler; in just a few strokes, a round wrapper, thick in the middle and thin around the edges, with an exact diameter, was laid out in his palm.

Then came the filling and pleating, the movements flowing smoothly and without any unnecessary steps.

Yang Song himself didn't even notice that upon seeing this scene, a hint of surprise, typical of an expert, flashed across his eyes.

This skill requires talent, but even more than five years of hard work!

The feel of dividing the dough, the evenness of rolling it out, the speed of pleating it... without years of hard work, it would be impossible to achieve such effortless, almost instinctive skill.

Each bun made by Lu Feng has exactly eighteen pleats, no more, no less, and the opening is perfectly sealed, clean and neat. The final buns are round and plump, as if they were carved from the same mold.

"His basic skills... are quite solid." Yang Song commented to his companion in a low voice, his previous nonchalance gone, and he didn't dare to say that he would teach the stall owner a lesson.

Finally, a new batch of steamed buns was taken out of the steamer amidst the rising heat.

An even more intense and surging aroma exploded out, making the people in the group swallow hard.

Yang Song stopped looking around and joined his companions at the back of the line. It only took two or three minutes for it to be their turn.

He held half of the sample meat bun, but didn't take a bite immediately like the other eager diners.

He took a deep breath; the aroma was very rich, bringing out both the fragrance of the noodles and the aroma of the meat.

"In a competition like this, daring to make such a simple meat bun is either foolish or shows absolute confidence. This doesn't match the act of wearing a mask at all."

Looking through the opening of the meat bun, Yang Song saw that the broth was clear and not cloudy. He took a small sip and found it delicious.

The pure, fresh meat flavor bursts on the tongue instantly, supported by a perfectly balanced saltiness.

What's even more wonderful is that after the umami flavor, a subtle, almost imperceptible sweetness follows!

Such pork can also bring out such natural sweetness; just one sip of the broth reveals the profound skill in preparing the filling.

Without further hesitation, he took a bite.

The soft yet elastic dough provides an excellent texture, while the broth, mixed with the chewy and juicy meat filling, creates a multi-layered symphony in the mouth.

In addition, the steamed buns themselves are filling, making them warm, comforting, and extremely satisfying to eat.

Yang Song chewed slowly, the scrutiny in his eyes gradually disappearing, replaced by a complex expression.

He quickly finished the half-eaten bun, and without further hesitation, used his vote to exchange for a meat bun.

His professional instincts and desire to comment resurfaced after the meal.

"The basic skills are quite solid." Yang Song said, his voice not loud, but Lu Feng could hear him clearly. "The dough rose well, it was kneaded properly, and the wrappers were rolled out evenly. The filling was handled with skill, the seasoning was precise and restrained, and the overall completion was very high. It's a piece that's hard to find fault with."

He paused, then changed the subject, "However..."

Upon hearing this transition word, Lu Feng finally turned his head and looked through the Ultraman mask at the somewhat professional-looking diner in front of him.

He has heard a lot of praise over the years, but so far he has never heard any professional comments.

"I'm not really sure myself." Yang Song felt that food without any obvious flaws was a bit hard to critique. "Young man, remember this, whatever you remember, just remember this. Your steamed buns seem pretty standard, but they're also a little lacking. In the end, they're not much different from the steamed buns I usually eat."

Upon hearing this, the seasoned gourmand couldn't help but secretly roll his eyes. He wanted to say something, but he didn't.

If you can't speak, you don't have to. Just keep pretending! It's not much different from the steamed buns you usually eat. When have you ever had steamed buns of this quality to eat every day? Do you get special treatment from the kitchens of Michelin three-star restaurants abroad?

Lu Feng could only roll his eyes at this moment. What is correct nonsense? This is it.

Not much difference? Of course he knows there's a big difference!

All along, the special qualities of his cooking have been provided by the system's ingredients. Yang Song's comment was absolutely correct. Without the enhancement of the system's ingredients, he relied solely on the recipe, but lacked the element that could bring about a qualitative change. However, this statement was essentially meaningless, as the other party hadn't provided any clear explanation.

Before Lu Feng could react or Yang Song could begin his lesson, an aged yet powerful voice came from behind Yang Song.

"No, having a solid foundation is never enough."

Yang Song frowned, displeased. He was always the one giving lessons; how dare he be interrupted while offering critiques? "I enjoy teaching others, but others can't teach me!"

He turned around angrily, intending to see which ill-mannered fellow was it and teach him a lesson about not interrupting when others are speaking.

But the moment he saw the person's face clearly, all his dissatisfaction got stuck in his throat.

"Old Qi?" Yang Song and his companion exclaimed in unison. Who else could it be but Qi Baiwei, the grandmaster of the culinary world and the president of the Lucheng branch of the Food Association?

Qi Baiwei nodded to Yang Song and the other man, whom he had met a few times before, as a greeting. However, his gaze passed over the two men and landed on the steamed buns at the stall.

Those eyes, which had seen countless delicacies, gleamed with undisguised appreciation.

"Young man, your basic skills are probably unmatched by many of your peers," Qi Baiwei said slowly. "Standards are a good thing; they are the foundation of craftsmanship. Without standards, it's like having no foundation, floating in the air."

"But if it's too standardized, so standardized that it's like copying a recipe exactly, then that might not be a good thing."

Lu Feng was shocked. So accurate! This is a master.

Qi Baiwei walked closer and carefully examined the almost identical semi-finished products that Lu Feng had just wrapped. "If people were like machines, there would be no diverse array of delicious foods, and we would lose our unique human characteristics."

Qi Baiwei's gaze deepened. "Without your own unique style, you'll forever be just imitating, just copying. Then where is your path?"