As the first batch of bread went into the two ovens to bake, Tang Xianling flexed his arms. The waiting customers noticed and asked, “Is your arm bothering you, young Boss Tang?”

“I beat butter for half the night to make bread yesterday,” Tang Xianling replied casually. His arm had felt sore since waking that morning, though not so badly he couldn’t work. Still, if he kept up this pace for several days straight, it would start to really hurt.

Customer: “Butter?”

“Bread?”

“You mentioned before that when the preserved vegetables ran out, you’d introduce something new. Could this be that bread?”

Tang Xianling glanced over and said, “That’s right. I’ll bake fewer today. If you’re curious, come later to try something fresh. This variety won’t last long either—the heat makes milk hard to store. Each barrel only yields a little of the best cream, and it’s tough on the arms.”

Everyone listened, feeling a bit lost and not quite understanding. They just thought Boss Xiao Tang was truly honest, saying whatever came to mind, but he was also quite shrewd. He didn’t specify how he made it. After all, they were all in business; even if you were honest, you wouldn’t give away your secrets.

“Boss Xiao Tang, you could actually hire someone to do the heavy lifting,” a customer suggested, then added, “It’s just that we’re afraid your secret recipe might get leaked.”

Tang Xianling was tempted—labor was cheap these days. He couldn’t say that outright, though, explaining instead that his methods were simply for convenience in selling the meat floss buns. “First, it’s labor-intensive. Second, extracting milk essence in hot weather requires buying ice, which makes it even more expensive. It’s not worth it. Better to do it when it’s cold. After all, breakfast should vary with the seasons.”

Cui Dabao nodded in agreement.

“Seasonal eating—that’s just right.”

The first batch of customers ordered generously, and after a wait, it was Huangfu Tieniu’s turn. Standing stiffly, eyes fixed straight ahead, he dared not look at Tang Xianling. Following Auntie Tang’s lead, he stammered, “I’ll have—”

“Good morning, Tieniu! When did you arrive?” Tang Xianling chuckled inwardly. Tieniu, you’re putting on such a stiff act. Seeing Tieniu look slightly embarrassed, she asked cheerfully, “What would you like?”

Huangfu Tieniu answered first: “I came in as soon as the city gates opened.”

That makes him part of the very first group, Tang Xianling thought.

“I want the pickled plum vegetables and the bean paste buns. I’ll take both,” Huangfu Tieniu declared.

Tang Xianling asked, “Come inside. After breakfast, aren’t you going out to deliver goods?” He noticed Tieniu’s shoulders were bare—had he not brought any game?

Huangfu Tieniu obediently stepped into the shop and said, “This time in town, I want to buy a mule.”

“Buying a mule is good. It saves you from walking so long and hurting your legs and knees.” After answering, Tang Xianling saw another customer arrive. Jiang Yun took the money and reported what the customer wanted, which he had to remember. He began patting the pot-sticker buns, finding a moment amid the busyness to tell Tieniu, “Sit over there and wait a bit. Don’t rush off.”

The morning was nonstop work.

Batch after batch of pot-sticker buns came off the griddle. Today’s output was higher than usual, and even some latecomers managed to snag the pickled plum vegetables variety. One customer beamed with delight: “I thought they were sold out, but I actually got some!”

“I’ve brought out all the last of the preserved vegetable batch. Once these sell out today, I won’t be making them tomorrow,” Tang Xianling told the customers, explaining the higher output.

But it was only about twenty extra pieces.

“Well then, Boss Tang, you’d better hurry up and make more preserved vegetables. We’re all waiting to eat them.”

Tang Xianling smiled warmly: “The weather’s been bad lately. You might have to wait a bit.”

Before long, everything sold out. Tang Xianling shook his arms again and spotted Huangfu Tieniu sitting in the corner. Tieniu sat upright, his pancakes already finished. A bowl of water sat on the table—likely brought by his mother.

As Tang Xianling looked at Tieniu, Tieniu glanced over at him in that very instant.

Their eyes met in mid-air.

Tang Xianling felt his heart skip a beat: What a handsome man!

Huangfu Tieniu flushed and quickly averted his gaze, feigning composure as he picked up the water bowl to drink. Only when the bowl touched his lips did he remember it was already empty.

Tang Xianling took it all in. Tieniu’s clumsy charm was kind of adorable. A smile slipped onto his face as he said, “The pot stickers were tasty, huh?”

“Very tasty,” Huangfu Tieniu replied with solemn earnestness.

Tang Xianling: “You must still be hungry. Go handle your business first. Buy the mule and head back—no need to delay. Come to my place around noon. The meat floss buns should be baked by then. Come over for a bite.”

“My treat.”

Huangfu Tieniu frowned. “That won’t do. You already spent money last time.”

“I need your help with something.” Tang Xianling stepped closer. For some reason, whenever he faced Tieniu, his old online habit of speaking without restraint surfaced—likely because Tieniu seemed so straightforward and ‘easy to take advantage of’.

Huangfu Tieniu’s frown eased at the mention of help, and he readily agreed.

“I haven’t even told you what I need.”

“Anything at all,” Huangfu Tieniu hastened to say.

Tang Xianling’s lips curled upward.

Jiang Yun, busy tidying up the shop nearby, noticed the corner where the Wu-ger and Tieniu were chatting. Feeling a bit impatient, she cleared her throat. 

Tang Xianling: … His smile vanished, and he transformed into a serious person.

“First task: write down the shop opening hours for me.” Tang Xianling muttered, “Just don’t chicken out on me.”

Huangfu Tieniu didn’t understand the slang “chicken,” but figured it couldn’t hurt Tang Xianling, so he nodded in agreement and asked for the time.

“The hour of Chen.”

They’ll open at seven in the morning.

“Add ‘Five days on, two days off’ too.” Working every day would wear down his small frame. Tang Xianling had expected to eat that meat floss bun yesterday, but it still hadn’t reached his mouth. Running a business now, especially one where he had to process every ingredient himself, was a hassle.

Even with his special advantage, he still had to follow the basic steps.

Jiang Yun had remained silent until now, but she couldn’t hold back any longer. “Two days off? Wu-ger, isn’t that too long? We only serve breakfast—it’s already quite light work. Do we really need two days off?”

“It’s not long. I didn’t get to bed until nearly midnight yesterday,” Tang Xianling replied. “Mother, my health comes first.”

Jiang Yun fell silent at this, her voice trailing off. “You’re right.” After a few seconds, she added softly, “It’s not that I don’t care about your health. I’m just worried customers will disappear if we keep closing. Your father always said the worst thing in the food business is being inconsistent.”

“I know you mean well, Mother.” Tang Xianling didn’t misunderstand her. When he woke up that morning, Jiang Yun had already tidied up the kitchen, proving she wasn’t afraid of hard work or fatigue, but genuinely worried about the business. He spoke with confidence, “With my skills, I won’t lack for customers.”

Jiang Yun nodded. “You’re right.”

Tang Xianling continued with his second request to Tieniu. “Could you help me churn butter? I really can’t manage it anymore. I’ll pay you.”

“I don’t want money!” Huangfu Tieniu exclaimed urgently.

Tang Xianling smiled, his eyes crinkling. “Alright!”

Huangfu Tieniu dared not look at Tang Xianling again. Every time he met his gaze, his heart pounded wildly.

After Huangfu Tieniu left for the East Market to buy a mule, Tang Xianling remembered he needed to bake meat floss buns. He went to the kitchen and retrieved the dough kneaded the night before—it had risen perfectly, stretching into a spongy mass full of honeycomb-like holes.

“Mother, if the milk is still good, we should deliver it quickly.”

Jiang Yun had remained in the kitchen, stealing glances at him from time to time, her face betraying a desire to speak but holding back. Guessing what Jiang Yun wanted to say, Tang Xianling replied, “I do like Tieniu.”

He was starting to fancy the idea of dating Tieniu.

Otherwise, why would he bother asking Tieniu to help churn butter? He wasn’t afraid of inconveniencing him—inconveniencing him was how you built mutual obligations. Tang Xianling: He knew tons about the theory of romance!

“You… you actually—sigh.” Jiang Yun was flustered by Wu-ger’s bluntness, her words stumbling over themselves. After a moment, she resignedly said, “I thought it was too soon before, but seeing you two today—ah, wait, I asked a matchmaker to arrange a match. He’s younger, right? Younger than you?”

“Four years younger,” Tang Xianling replied.

Jiang Yun frowned. “Four years is a bit much. We don’t know his family situation. What if his parents refuse? But I see he’s interested in you. Still, marriage is such a big matter—it needs parental consent.”

“He looks sturdy, being a hunter. I wonder if he’s violent.”

“If you marry him, your father and I would be a burden. We couldn’t help you much.”

“Then how about it, Wu-ger? Take another look. Wait, choose someone from Fengyuan City. Preferably not too tall. Tieniu is too tall—he stands there and scares people.”

Tang Xianling: …

He just wanted to talk about romance, but Jiang Yun was already envisioning their married life, then abruptly shifting gears to make him change his choice of partner.

With Huangfu Tieniu absent, Tang Xianling blurted out, “No way. I like tall, handsome, young men. As for that sleazy, scrawny, short old man like Hu Kang? I’d only buy rat poison to kill him.”

Jiang Yun shuddered in fright: “Don’t go saying things like that.”

“I’m not saying things—I mean every word,” Tang Xianling said with a sly grin, his tone unwavering. “Mother, stop worrying. This time, I’m in charge of my own marriage. No one else gets to decide for me.”

“Alright, I’m heading to the shop out front.”

Tang Xianling carried the basin to the front and began kneading dough. While waiting for the dough to rest, he made salad dressing. He knew a quick and simple method: egg yolks, soybean oil, salt, sugar, milk, a bit of flour, and a touch of lemon juice—or vinegar if no lemon was available.

He heated it gently over low heat, stirring until smooth, and soon it was whipped to perfection.

His arms ached today. Next time, he’d try a flourless version heated at a lower temperature to see how the flavor differed.

Tang Xianling finished the salad dressing and brought the pork floss to the front. The shop door swung open constantly, customers popping in to ask: “Any pot stickers left?”

“We’re sold out today,” Tang Xianling replied.

He was thinking he’d need to make a trip to the West Market this afternoon to buy a wooden sign. One side would be carved with “Open for Business,” while the back would read “Closed.”

Jiang Yun first delivered milk to the neighbors, then dropped some off at the Zhu family butcher shop. After returning, she stayed in the shop to help answer questions from passing customers.

Tang Xianling focused on making bread. With everything prepared, the process was straightforward now. He divided the dough into small portions, rolled them thin like flower rolls, brushed on salad dressing, sprinkled scallions and pork floss, then rolled them up into fist-sized buns. Once a row was ready, he sent them straight into the oven.

While the dough baked, Tang Xianling remembered the small mushrooms he’d bought yesterday. He planned to make a special meat sauce filling with shredded pork and mushrooms—just for his family, not for sale.

Time slipped by unnoticed.

An oddly rich aroma filled the entire shop—milkiness mingling with the scent of dough—

“Whose place is that?”

“Steamed milk-scented buns?” 

“No, no—that scent doesn’t match buns.”

“Seems to be coming from Brother Tang’s breakfast shop.”

Tang Xianling used tongs to pull out the baked buns. They looked like flower rolls, but because they were leavened dough, each bun had puffed up. What went in as a small fist emerged as big as an adult’s palm. Where each roll split open, bright green scallions and fluffy shredded meat were visible. Tang Xianling brushed them with another layer of egg yolk mixture, then sent them back in for a quick final bake before they were ready to sell.

“Young Master Tang, what are you making?”

Tang Xianling looked up. Good heavens, both shop doors were open. A familiar customer stood at the front, looking far from satisfied—he recalled that Zhang Ming had bought six pot-sticker buns earlier that morning.

Is he hungry again?

“Pork floss bread. Care for one? Seven wen each.”

Zhang Ming swallowed hard. “That’s pricier than pot-sticker buns?”

Tang Xianling explained politely, “Mainly due to higher costs. A whole barrel of milk yields less than a jin of butter—the milk’s essence. We use all that butter in five jin of dough, leaving the remaining milk unused. It’d be wasteful.”

Jiang Yun delivered milk to the Lu household and the pork shop this morning—some people saw her.

Seeing everyone still debating the price, Tang Xianling had a sudden idea. “It is pricier. But here’s what I’ll do: if I make more later, I won’t add the milk essence. That way it’ll be cheaper—same price as the preserved vegetable pot stickers, five wen each. But today’s batch with butter is the last one.”

“For now, it’s only savory. I’m worried sweet-savory might be too much for everyone. We’ll bake it slowly.”

His hands were nearly falling off from churning butter! And he still had to deal with the leftover milk. Why hadn’t he thought of skipping the butter version earlier? He could switch to soybean oil! Or lard—either could be tried!

“Then give me one,” said Zhang Ming.

The aroma was truly irresistible, so fragrant.

“I’ll try one too.”

“I’ll come back another day for the ones without all that butter—Mr. Tang, when will you have ones without milk essence?”

Tang Xianling: “I can make them tomorrow.”

Hearing this, some immediately perked up, deciding to come back tomorrow. They’d thought five wen pot-sticker buns were pricey before, but compared to the bread today, it seemed downright cheap. Still, these people didn’t leave. They asked Zhang Ming, “Is it good?” “How does it taste?”

Zhang Ming took a bite. The flavor was indescribable. Lost in the taste, he racked his brain trying to describe it—he’d never encountered food like this before.

“Mr. Tang, is this your bread? I’ll take three!” Cui Dabao pushed through the crowd from behind, practically barging his way in. He’d heard the commotion earlier.

After this, Mr. Tang might find it too much trouble and stop making that butter.

Naturally, he had to try the very first batch!

Cui Dabao squeezed to the front and promptly pulled out his money. Zhang Ming teased him beside him, “I thought you weren’t coming to check it out? I knew it—what new food could possibly be without you? You’re playing mind games with me!”

“Same here,” Cui Dabao replied, ignoring Zhang Ming as he focused on the roasted bread Xiao Tang was preparing. The bread resembled steamed buns, yet wasn’t quite the same. Its surface glowed golden-yellow, dotted with the vibrant green of scallions, emanating a savory, milky aroma.

A unique, exceptionally unique fragrance.

Tang Xianling called out to his mother to collect money, then began serving Cui Dabao, who had brought a food basket, clearly prepared for this visit.

Before all three were served, Cui Dabao, undeterred by the heat, pinched one. It felt soft and fluffy in his hand, like a freshly steamed mantou. Tearing off a piece and popping it into his mouth, he was struck by a strange, peculiar taste.

Scallion and milk flavors mingled with what must be golden, fluffy pork floss. Some bits melted instantly, others offered a satisfying chew. Unfamiliar at first, the flavor grew more aromatic with each bite. Some kind of sauce inside the bread complemented it perfectly.

The flavor lingered on his palate, leaving him craving more even after finishing.

A treat like this, sold at any West Market restaurant, wouldn’t just fetch seven wen—it could easily go for twenty or thirty wen, and still draw crowds of buyers.

“Delicious!” Cui Dabao mumbled, holding up a large bite. “Give me another one.”

“Then I’ll take two more,” Zhang Ming added.

Tang Xianling packed two for them. Seeing this, others couldn’t resist asking for one too. Some even whispered to their companions, “Let’s share one to taste it. When the butter runs out tomorrow, I’ll buy another to see how it differs.”

Cui Dabao, basket in one hand and bread in the other, munched his way out, heading straight home.

He needed to tell Douzi not to cook lunch.

The first batch sold out quickly. Tang Xianling told his mother, “I didn’t expect customers’ noses to be so sharp. I didn’t even get a chance to save some. When the second batch is ready, I’ll set some aside first. Mother, you deliver some to the Lu family and some to the Zhu family.”

The Lu family had lent them the starter, and the Zhu family gave them meat at a discount.

Jiang Yun froze, nodding blankly in agreement.

“Of course, let’s save some for us too. I haven’t had any yet,” Tang Xianling said greedily.

It really smelled so good.

Jiang Yun snapped back to reality, waving her hands repeatedly. “I won’t eat any, Wu-ger. I never imagined you could sell it for seven wen. Make extra money—I won’t eat it.”

“Today’s sale is special. Tomorrow we’ll go back to regular prices. A rare treat like this? I’m keeping it for myself.” Tang Xianling made the decision. He might be hard on others, but he wouldn’t skimp on his own mouth.

The second batch came out quickly. Tang Xianling set aside half and hid it, sending Jiang Yun to deliver the rest.

Customers trickled in to buy bread. Upon hearing the price, some turned away, and others stayed to sample a piece. A few, unaccustomed to the meat floss flavor, grimaced after a bite. Though good-natured, they didn’t demand that Brother Tang refund the qiuan—just sulkily carried their bread away.

Because it was expensive, they couldn’t bear to waste it, so they nibbled their way home. By the time they finished the bread in their hands, they were left wanting more.

How strange.

The customer stared at their empty hands and muttered, “Weird.” They turned back, intending to buy another one to try, but upon returning, they found the shop empty—sold out.

No surprise—Tang Wu-ger’s breakfast items always sold out fast.

They’d just have to wait until tomorrow.

Tang Xianling was now crafting a private collector’s edition: Meat Sauce Mushroom & Pork Floss Bread.

He’d seasoned the meat sauce mushrooms with pepper, making the filling burst with rich, savory aroma. That unique mushroom fragrance was utterly captivating—he dared not imagine how delicious it would be with pork floss!

Plus, the sweet-salty blend of red beans mixed in.

Just thinking about it made Tang Xianling’s mouth water. He quietly shut the shop door—no choice, really. The aroma of the toasted bread was simply too overpowering. Every time he finished a batch, he’d hear people on the street asking, “What’s that delicious smell coming from? Who’s baking?” Then they’d sneak in to ask what it was and how much it cost.

Thus, sneaking around like a thief, he encountered his classmate Tieniu.

“You—”

“Come inside,” Tang Xianling whispered, acting like a thief in his own shop. “There’s something delicious—come quick.”

This sight inexplicably made Huangfu Tieniu chuckle.

Tang Xianling: “Are you laughing at me?”

“No.” Huangfu Tieniu wasn’t good at lying. Afraid Tang Xianling would get angry, he hurriedly explained, “I’m just happy, really.”

“Back in the village, I saw elders who especially doted on a certain grandson. They’d do just like you—mysteriously, secretly, shutting the door to feed their grandson special treats alone.”

Tang Xianling: …

Distorted.jpg

Tirniu, do you realize you’re just adding another generation to our relationship?!

I want to date you, but you want me to be your grandmother?

Don’t push it!!!