The so-called things are a little different. To put it bluntly, they are neither humans nor ghosts!
Yuan Jun didn't want to mention this matter anymore, so he quickly changed the topic: "There are still two hours until sunset. Come on, I will take you to eat!"
Gongsun Shuo swallowed hard and said, "Eat? Is there anything for us to eat here?"
Yuan Jun nodded: "Of course, although this is a gathering place for ghosts, people come occasionally, so there must be a shop in this Wangchuan Valley that sells food for us people!"
Although everyone had no appetite, they still followed Yuanjun involuntarily. Everyone was curious. Everyone wanted to know whether there really was such a place as Yuanjun mentioned in the Wangchuan Valley. , if it does exist, what exactly is the food sold in the store
I have to say that Wangchuan Valley is really big, the streets are wide enough, the shops are neat, and the ground is very clean. Except for the buildings that look a little older, everything else is perfect.
After walking through three streets, when they turned into the fourth street, a strong scent of osmanthus hit their noses. The scent was sweet and rich, accompanied by bursts of wheat aroma.
This taste is very familiar to Xia Yuanqiu. It is the taste of sweet-scented osmanthus buns.
She used to eat it often and it was her grandfather's specialty. He was very good at making these sugar-osmanthus-flavored buns.
Jiang Xin also smelled it, took Xia Yuanqiu's hand and said, "Yuanqiu, this smells exactly like the osmanthus buns made by your grandfather. It's really delicious."
Gongsun Shuo asked: "Aren't the sweet-scented osmanthus buns all the same? This way, you can tell that they are the same as Yuan Qiu's grandfather's buns?"
Jiang Xindao: "You don't understand. Different dough making techniques will naturally make the buns taste and smell different. The taste is exactly the same as Yuan Qiu's grandfather's buns."
Jiang Xinyuan didn't understand either. Yuan Qiu told her this. Yuan Qiu was also a master of cooking. Although the sugar-osmanthus buns she made were also delicious, they tasted different from those made by her grandfather.
Xia Yuanqiu never said a word, but his footsteps accelerated a lot.
In an inconspicuous shop at the end of the street, they saw busy figures behind steaming baskets.
Xia Yuanqiu was a little disappointed. The person in front of her was obviously not the person she was thinking of. The person in front of her was a gray-haired old man who was busy between the stoves. He was not the father she was familiar with, let alone the grandfather she was familiar with.
Zhu Yan squeezed Xia Yuanqiu's palm to express comfort, and then said: "Shop, bring us two cages of steamed buns."
The old man raised his eyes and glanced at them. There was obvious surprise in his eyes, but he didn't ask anything. He just silently took two cages of steamed buns and put them on a large white plate. He piled them high and brought them to a simple Eight Immortals table. He went up, said nothing, turned around and returned to the stove.
Jiang Xin grabbed a bun in her hand and took a big bite. After swallowing it, she hurriedly said: "This taste, this taste is really the same!"
Xia Yuanqiu also caught one and tasted it. It was indeed very similar, but it was not as exaggerated as Jiang Xin said. It was not exactly the same, but it was just enough to be real.
Xia Yuanqiu came to the stove and asked the old man: "Old man, who taught you how to make these sweet-scented osmanthus sugar buns?"
The old man finally stopped what he was doing, turned to face Xia Yuanqiu, stared at her twice, and said, "Why do you ask?"