Ye Cheng had a destination in mind that morning: Lao Zhao's breakfast shop, an old shop that had been open for many years.
He remembers that when he was a child, if he came to the dock, his parents would take him to have breakfast. His family's most famous dish was fried dough sticks.
Freshly fried.
Two rectangular noodles are stacked together, a bamboo board is placed in the middle to press them down, one side is lifted, they are turned and then put into the oil. Instantly, they become two intertwined fried dough sticks.
Regardless of any stories like Qin Hui behind fried dough sticks, Ye Cheng simply enjoys their crispy texture.
Most importantly, it can be eaten directly or added to soy milk or porridge.
He remembers that he was a child at the time, and his parents ordered him a bowl of soy milk. He ate seven fried dough sticks that day.
It's funny to think about it now. How could someone so small eat seven fried dough sticks?
"Boss, two fried dough sticks, a bowl of soy milk, and a serving of rice noodle rolls, please." Ye Cheng ordered skillfully.
Rice noodle rolls are a common food in later generations, but back then they were all high-end, with meat and eggs added. Ye Cheng only liked to eat plain rice noodle rolls with sauce poured on top.
To be honest, those meat and eggs, besides increasing its price, only ruin the original delicate texture of the rice noodle roll.
The breakfast was served by Old Zhao's son, who was also in his forties and had taken over Old Zhao's mantle.
"Here you are: a bowl of soy milk, two fried dough sticks, a serving of rice noodle rolls, and here are the condiments."
Ye Cheng picked up a fried dough stick and pressed one end directly into the soy milk. The oil from the fried dough stick floated on the surface of the soy milk. It wasn't exactly pretty, but he just liked the feeling.
Every day, the soy milk is soaked up by the fried dough sticks. Taking a bite brings back fond memories; it tastes just like it did when I was a child.
And this rice noodle roll isn't the white, transparent kind you find in the city; it's green and a bit thick, but nothing else is added. Paired with the owner's own braising sauce and a little chili, you slurp it up, and that's the taste.
Since his rebirth, Ye Cheng has been most impressed by food. The food in his later life was so beautiful, so incredibly beautiful.
They ate them silently, one after another.
You can't taste any emotion in this food at all.
For someone like Ye Cheng who is quite particular about food, this is a disaster. Even after he became wealthy at the big company, he still often misses the flavors of his childhood.
A bowl of soy milk cost 50 cents, two fried dough sticks cost 1 yuan, and a serving of rice noodle rolls cost 2 yuan. Ye Cheng paid 3.5 yuan for this breakfast and ate with satisfaction and happiness.
After finishing his meal, Ye Cheng, feeling bored, started strolling along the street.
This street by the dock sells all kinds of things, from vegetables to clothes.
Ye Cheng carefully selected some salted fish and some eggplant, planning to make a salted fish and eggplant casserole when he got home.
Hmm, there's also some braised meat, small sausage rolls, and a few chicken feet. This bag is enough for me to eat for two days.
Just as Ye Cheng was about to go back, he heard a familiar voice:
"Fire the hole!"
"Go, Go, Go!"
Holy crap, that familiar music, that familiar gunshot, damn it, the bloodline of a generation of gunshots has awakened.
Ye Cheng rushed into the internet cafe without hesitation, "Boss, turn on a computer."
The boss, with his messy hair and bloodshot eyes from staying up all night, yawned and asked, "How much do you want to recharge?"
How much per hour?
"Two pieces."
"Top up 20 yuan, and you can get another..."
Ye Cheng glanced at the shelf and saw a beverage that looked both familiar and unfamiliar: Rising Sun.
It was a wildly popular product when I was a kid, comparable to Coca-Cola, but I don't know why it went out of business later.
"And another one of these Rising Sun Iced Teas."
The shopkeeper casually reached behind him, his accuracy comparable to using an 8x scope, and precisely grabbed a bottle of Sunrise.
"22 yuan."
That lazy attitude, that impatient tone, combined with my excited heart—damn, that's the feeling.
Ye Cheng found a computer and sat down. As soon as he turned it on, the roar of the computer case blended in with the gunshots from next door. This computer was pretty old.
After Ye Chengyan had smoked almost one cigarette, the machine finally started up. There was nothing he could do; that's how machines were back then. In later generations, when some software would pop up and say it took xx seconds to boot up, thus defeating 97% of computers nationwide, it was probably this kind of software that they defeated.
After entering the game, Ye Cheng waited for a while before he could finally create a map.
I remember when I used to play CS with my classmates, we would argue about who should create the map.
"You build it!"
You're a slut!
You're the one who's cheap!
The standard warehouse map, frame by frame, showed characters teleporting across the screen. At that time, there was no concept of frame drops, and everyone thought that this was how 3D games were.
He started with a B41, skillfully bought an AK and a grenade, and charged out.
The moment a policeman peeked out, Ye Cheng fired a burst of bullets, hitting him in the head!
"Damn! I just bought this sniper rifle."
An annoyed voice came from the other end of the line, and the keyboard was slammed hard on the table.
"Don't smash the keyboard! If you do that again, get out!" the boss shouted menacingly as he stood up.
Here, he is the boss.
Immediately afterwards, Ye Cheng, wielding the AK, moved with unparalleled ease, ambushing and headshotting everyone he could, preventing the police on the other side from even getting through the warehouse door.
There's nothing I can do, my AK is just that amazing, I can control the recoil.
Back in the day, on A Avenue in the desert map, he dared to go toe-to-toe with the enemy sniper.
After playing for two hours, Ye Cheng couldn't take it anymore; it was too hard on his eyes, and his graphics card was too weak.
Amidst the admiring gazes of the crowd, Ye Cheng disembarked.
"My god, this is a pro, every shot is a headshot."
"Wow, that's awesome! I wonder which village they're from."
"It's no fun with people like this. The difference in strength is too great, and it's not interesting to fight. Come on, everyone, let's continue."
After leaving the internet cafe and basking in the sunshine, Ye Cheng ate a simple 4-yuan boxed lunch and returned to his village.
When Ye Chengji reached the village entrance, he saw that there were still quite a few people gathering seafood under the bright sun.
"Hey, Uncle and Aunt, still busy?" Ye Cheng teased cheekily, then went home amidst the resentful stares of the crowd.
He can help the villagers get rich, but you can't just rob them outright.
Go back, take a nap, and then water the chives and radishes.
Little seedlings, grow quickly! The eggs at home are still lying around.
Ye Cheng planned to cook dinner himself: salted fish and eggplant casserole.
It's a very ordinary dish, but it's not commonly seen.
Ye Cheng also forgot where he had eaten.
It's very simple to make. First, you need a clay pot.
As it happened, Ye Cheng bought it when he went to the dock today.
Then wash the salted fish clean and cut it into pieces, large or small, as you like; what you want is the salty and savory flavor of salted fish.
Place the salted fish pieces at the bottom of the casserole dish, then cut the eggplant into long strips and arrange them in the casserole dish. Add water and a little oil; no salt is needed.
However, Ye Cheng likes spicy food, so he added some chili peppers as well.
Continue read on readnovelmtl.com