The next day, Jiang Feng bought so cooking utensils and ingredients. He also made a special trip to Fengqi Mountain.
China, a land of natural treasures and exceptional people, boasts countless majestic mountains. So mountains, possessing excellent Feng Shui, are famous in both Taoism and Buddhism—for example, Mount Song, Mount Wutai, and Dragon Tiger Mountain. Fengqi Mountain, located in the suburbs, featured rolling hills and beautiful scenery. A temple and a Taoist Temple were situated on different peaks. The temple was a scenic area where tourists occasionally ca to offer incense. At the foot of the mountain, a town was ho to so residents.
Jiang Feng went up the mountain, contacted the managent of the Fengqi Mountain scenic area, and actually found a spot to set up his stall.
"Soone used to set up a stall here before, but the business wasn’t good, so they all left," the scenic area manager told Jiang Feng. "Now and then, soone selling roasted sweet potatoes or sausages cos by."
The location for the stall was a small plaza halfway up the mountain. A pavilion nearby offered a resting place for climbing visitors, and the spot was perfectly accessible for the food truck.
"Okay, this spot will do. Thank you for your trouble," Jiang Feng said, expressing his gratitude.
This man is quite helpful, Jiang Feng thought.
"No problem," the scenic area manager added. "There’s been an increase in people going up the mountain to watch the sunrise recently. The sun rises at 5:30 AM, and I guess those people will be coming down by six or seven. You could sell breakfast here and cater to them; you could make so money."
Upon hearing this, a look of joy appeared in Jiang Feng’s eyes. What great news! he thought. I was worried about attracting custors. If people are watching the sunrise, then it’ll be fine. They’ll surely be hungry coming down the mountain, won’t they?
"Alright, thank you," Jiang Feng said sincerely.
Everything was ready; all that was lacking was the opportune mont. With the stall location decided, Jiang Feng left Fengqi Mountain and went ho to prepare the ingredients. This ti, he was genuinely selling breakfast, and with his culinary skills, attracting so business wouldn’t be difficult.
「Shuize Resort, Happy Ranch.」
Zhang Dashan asked his daughter, Zhang Xinya, "So, that young man with the stall isn’t coming back? He didn’t co today either?"
Hearing Zhang Dashan’s question, Zhang Xinya nodded. "He’s not coming back. He ntioned he wouldn’t be at the resort for now and planned to set up his stall sowhere else."
"Sowhere else? Where?"
"He didn’t say, but he did ntion he won’t be selling braised at anymore and will sell other snacks instead."
"Why stop selling braised at when it was doing so well? Is this boss so whimsical?"
"Making braised at is exhausting. Just cleaning the ingredients takes a lot of effort, and he had to make so much every day. He probably got tired."
The two chatted.
Zhang Dashan really missed Jiang Feng’s braised at, especially the braised pig’s trotters and braised chicken. They were truly satisfying to eat.
"Boss Jiang, how can I live without you!" Zhang Dashan sighed.
He wasn’t the only custor who felt this way. It was just that Jiang Feng lived a carefree and free-spirited life, primarily focused on earning "system money," so he opted for different ways to set up his stall.
anwhile, Jiang Feng was busy preparing for the next day.
In the catering industry, selling breakfast offered the advantage of low cost but ca with the downside of being extrely tiring. Most people couldn’t handle such hardship. Vendors often had to get up at 3:00 AM to prepare and set up their stalls by 5:00 AM. Moreover, winter was cold and sumr brought mosquitoes; it was all hard-earned money. Jiang Feng only had to persist for a week, and since it was currently autumn with clear and crisp weather, it wasn’t too exhausting for him.
Ti is a bit tight, Jiang Feng decided. Tomorrow, I’ll focus on selling soy-sauce at buns and egg fried rice. I can boil so marinated eggs too. Then there’s pumpkin and corn congee. These few items should be enough.
He went to bed early that day. Around 3:00 AM the next morning, Jiang Feng woke up. At this hour, so night owls were still awake. Jiang Feng began to busy himself at the cutting board.
Only when you seriously commit to making breakfast do you realize how tiring it truly is, Jiang Feng mused. Getting up after 3:00 AM every day, living with a reversed day-night cycle—earning tens of thousands a month like this is considered normal.
Jiang Feng placed enough all-purpose flour in a basin, added yeast, white sugar, and water to start the ferntation. For half a kilogram of flour, five grams of yeast and five grams of white sugar were needed to ensure the resulting dough was soft and smooth. He kneaded the dough by hand and covered it with plastic wrap to fernt.
Then, Jiang Feng began preparing the filling for the soy-sauce at buns.
At this hour, the neighborhood was utterly silent. Soft lighting illuminated every elegant feature of the community. A light shone from the kitchen of a small villa, where Jiang Feng was bustling about.
Little Black heard the noise and ca over, eyes heavy with sleep, to keep Jiang Feng company. He was very sleepy but insisted on staying, squatting nearby, constantly dozing off and tilting to one side. He was truly dog-tired.
"Little Black, go back to sleep. What are you doing here?" Jiang Feng said when he saw the little fellow, telling him to go back to his bed.
Hearing Jiang Feng’s command, Little Black scampered back a few steps, then lay down on the ground. He watched Jiang Feng for a mont before slowly drifting off to sleep again.
The deliciousness of a bun depended on two aspects: the quality of the filling and the texture of the stead dough.
Jiang Feng heated a wok, poured in oil, and once it was slightly warm, added a plateful of chopped green onions, stirring them. Next, he added minced ginger, stir-frying until fragrant. The heat couldn’t be too high at this point, as it would easily burn the ingredients. After stir-frying them briefly, Jiang Feng took a basin of seasoned fresh at filling and poured it all into the wok.
Jiang Feng was particular about the at he chose. The most delicious filling used pork shoulder with a "six parts lean, four parts fat" ratio, as this cut was tender and offered the best texture. The minced at was a uniform mix of red and white.
In the wok, the at gradually changed color, and its aroma, mingled with that of the green onions and ginger, wafted upwards. When the at was partially cooked, Jiang Feng added a plateful of chopped shiitake mushrooms and continued to stir-fry. Once the mushrooms also released their fragrance, it was ti to add seasonings.
Chicken bouillon powder, thirteen-spice powder, white sugar, and broad bean paste. After adding these seasonings, he stir-fried continuously to ensure the at was evenly flavored. He then added light soy sauce and dark soy sauce for color. With another round of stir-frying, the at filling imdiately darkened and looked instantly appetizing. Before removing it from the heat, he added MSG, chicken essence, oyster sauce, and a sprinkle of freshly chopped green onions.
And just like that, a wok full of richly aromatic, secret-recipe soy-sauce at filling was ready.
Turning to the fernted dough, he tore open the plastic wrap, revealing a large white mound in the iron basin. Pulling it apart gently, he could see a honeycomb-like structure inside. This indicated that the dough had fernted excellently.
Next, it was ti to knead the dough to expel all the air bubbles. Once the air was pressed out, he kneaded the dough into a long strip and pinched off individual portions. Using a rolling pin, he rolled these portions into wrappers. The wrappers needed to be thin at the edges and thick in the center—a technique in itself. Jiang Feng, having mastered the skill of bun-making, found rolling out the wrappers effortless.
Finally, it was ti to wrap the tender and juicy soy-sauce at filling into the dough wrappers. This step looked simple but was actually quite difficult. Novices making buns would put a tiny bit of filling in a wrapper, struggle for ages to seal it, and end up with stead buns where the skin was thicker than the filling. Experienced hands, however, could stuff a wrapper full—so much it looked like it might burst—yet still seal it perfectly and securely. Cooking truly is a skill!
Jiang Feng was very adept. He spread a wrapper on his palm, scooped up a generous spoonful of the soy-sauce at filling, then with a few deft turns, presses, and pinches of his hands, finished with a gentle twist. A perfectly round, large bun was ford.
Thin-skinned, generously filled, with eighteen pleats—even the most renowned buns weren’t this perfectly round.
He continued to work under the light. One by one, the buns were ford and placed on a board. Upon closer inspection, each bun was nearly identical in size and its pleats. Laid out on the board, they looked as if they had been copied and pasted. His magical bun-making skill was so refined that if there were ever a "Bun-Making Sect," he would at least be at the grandmaster level.
He busied himself like this for a good half-hour until all the at filling from the wok was used up. However, the freshly wrapped buns couldn’t be stead imdiately; they needed a second proofing. Only then would the stead buns be fluffy, soft, and possess that authentic, delightful texture.
Once they were proofed, he would place the buns in a stear basket, ready to be cooked.
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