He was comforted by the undulating skin and soup in his mouth first, and then lightly bit the meat filling inside. No matter how well the dough is rolled, the meat filling is not good enough, it is too thin, too fat, too oily and too rich, like this fat and thin five flowers are just right, and the shrimp line is drawn cleanly The prawns are so gently bitten, as if the deepest treasures can't escape the inquiries of Jin Xiaowei, and the teeth are clean and smooth. There is nowhere to hide the freshness of the beautiful things. Yang Ming let out a long sigh, Feel the whole body warm up.

"I haven't eaten such delicious wontons for a long time." He thought to himself, but he couldn't stop his movements at all.

In the old days in China, the most indispensable street food was wontons. Yang Ming still remembered the "camel burden" carried by the hawkers who walked the streets at that time. What a time-honored brand or a hundred-year-old shop, they are all things that have been made in recent years. The wonton shop in those days could hardly be called a "shop". Little vicissitudes of life in life.

Wonton sellers will go out early in the morning. One end of the pole is a stove with firewood. Although it is a bit simple, the cauldron is steaming on it, and the other end is smoky and smudged with firewood. In the cupboard, there are noodles and meat stuffing, seasoning firewood and wrapped wontons.

Wonton sellers don’t shout like kitchen knife sharpeners. They often hold a bamboo clapper in their hands—it’s a bamboo tube with hollow ends. I don’t know what other treatments have been done. Tap the stick to the top, and the unique sound will pass through the alleys of blue bricks, white walls and black tiles, and enter the eardrums of hungry people.

If someone shouted a word for a bowl of wontons, the hawker who was still walking slowly on the Qingshi Road would immediately become sloppy. Put the burden on the ground, hold the kettle firmly and pour boiling water into the pot, the fire below is blazing red, and when the water boils to a boil, the wrapped wontons are rushing in. Jump. Those thin-skinned and tender-fleshed wontons looked like small bones that had not yet bloomed at first, but soon the heat wave forced the flowers and leaves to stretch, blooming layer by layer, and a cloud-like white mist rose in the air, and the tempting aroma was In this way, the faint curls flowed out along the wall.

The side dishes were put away as early as when the wontons were being cooked. Seaweed and shrimp skins, plus a little diced mustard, washed it with half a spoon of hot soup, and then put the cooked wontons in, and the little lily was there. Heads popped out of the bowl. If it is a cold night in autumn and winter, the store will considerately add a drop or two of red oil into it.

When Yang Ming was still young, he would never take his eyes off the ravioli sellers. He was always watching, watching how they lit up cooking smoke on the ground and brought out bowls of steaming hot soup like a conjuration. Wontons, I can't take my eyes off the ravioli.

At this time, Dad would always pull him back, and he didn't say a word. He let his little hand be pulled forward, but his head looked back as if it was stuck with glue, until Dad sighed. In one breath, he dragged him to the wonton stand and asked for a bowl of wontons.

"I've really convinced you, you child, you know how to eat every day!" The third uncle always looked at him with such hatred for iron and steel, watching him eat with a small bowl in his arms, and even thought of being reasonable. No, he sighed again, "Give me a taste of two too."

Nowadays, this wood stove has long been silent about world affairs. With everything in the past falling into the long river of loneliness, there are no wonton sellers on the streets who are carrying poles, but the name "firewood wonton" has been passed down through the same line. , as a signboard in some wonton shops.

It's just that although the name is still there, the inside has already changed. But at the bottom of the mountain in this country across the sea, he has regained the greed that he didn't want to let go of holding the wonton bowl.

"It's been a long time."

From then to now, the children who babbled and started learning Mongolian language have grown into today's young people. They have experienced all kinds of experiences and tasted a lot, and everything they have done is just for the word "no regrets".

He is no longer the child who can stand unscrupulously in the middle of the road and lick bowls. He can no longer act willfully because he has a protective umbrella transformed by others. Today, he has become the kind of person he never thought of before.

It's just that I'm a little tired.

Yang Ming couldn't help but think, if God had clearly described the destination of the two roads in front of his eyes, how would he choose to be his ordinary transmigrator a few years ago? Or are we going down the same path as we are now?

He thought that he would hesitate for a long time on this question, but in his heart he came to the answer by dividing three and five by two - he would still make the same choice.

"Boss, check out." Yang Ming put the bowl with no soup left on the table, "How much?"

"500 yen is fine, do you want to pay in cash or scan the code?" asked the old man in front of the counter.

The price really surprised him a little. 500 yen is so heavy, I'm afraid it's not the price of five years ago.

"Scan the code." He took out his mobile phone from his arms as he was kind.

When he walked out of the door of the restaurant again, Yang Ming's palms rarely felt a little warm. He looked in the direction of Mount Fuji again, but it was a pity that it was late and he couldn't see anything clearly, but he still thought silently in his heart.

"After a few days out, there should be several reminders for electricity and water bills in the place where I stayed, and there must be a lot of dust. When I go back, I have to clean it up."

...

The winter night in Guanzhong~lightnovelpub.net~ has a slightly damp coolness, as if a slight moisture climbed up along the robe, and then slipped down the bamboo leaves and joints. The coldness of late autumn and Yan Qu complement each other, and suddenly it is Xuan Ming Jun who enjoys the three thousand jade nights in the sky, and finally is willing to take over the position of Shao Hao Jun, and the gift of this world's Lingran fairy is what he waved.

The sky is thick black after the sun has died, the quiet moon is hidden behind the stratus clouds, the 800-mile wilderness gallops around the world, and when you look up, you can see the rolling hills and mountains. And the fields of Linchuan are scattered among the swirling rivers, and the winter grass is still full of dewdrops.

The flat road extending in all directions runs through the east and west, and the end of the road is the "Tokyo Tower" that has been imposing for hundreds of years.

The chirping of the wind and insects has disappeared under the towering tower. The lights on the top of the tower are on, and the soaring flames shot straight into the sky, illuminating the gray boundary along the way.

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