CHAPTER 58: CHAPTER 58: I CAN’T CONTROL MYSELF

"Found him! Found him!"

"Found him! Master, we found him!"

With an excited smile on his face, Sun Yunpeng ran into the backstage.

Old Guo was leisurely sipping his tea and was slightly taken aback when he heard the shouting.

"Found what?"

"The guy who gave me that Steamed Bun on the Fifth Ring Road last time. Just now, a fan called to say there’s someone selling Steamed Buns in Tiantongyuan Community, driving a Seven-Star Hong Guang. Although the owner always wears a mask, he’s very clean and tall, which matches all the characteristics I’ve mentioned before."

Sun Yunpeng quickly explained, "And that fan said the Steamed Buns he makes are top-notch delicious, no matter the filling. I think there’s a ninety percent chance that he’s the one who saved me."

Old Guo stood up immediately upon hearing this, "Let’s go. You don’t have a performance today anyway, I’ll go with you to take a look. Go find your Master’s wife and prepare some gifts. We can’t show up empty-handed."

Sun Yunpeng hurried out, and soon he was carrying large bags, ready to load them into the car.

Old Guo changed his clothes and got into the car. The two of them headed straight to Tiantongyuan.

The journey wasn’t too far; it only took about an hour by car, and they were surprised as soon as they got off.

They never expected such a long queue at a Steamed Bun stall.

At a glance, there were dozens of people in line, stretching far with a tail at the end.

Sun Yunpeng took a close look at the stall and happily said, "No doubt about it, Master, it was him who gave me the Steamed Bun that day."

Old Guo nodded, "Alright, let’s go. Leave the things in the car for now; let’s see if we can invite him for a meal later."

Sun Yunpeng nodded and followed Old Guo with excitement.

Old Guo walked briskly toward Wang Fan’s stall.

But as he walked, he felt many people rolling their eyes at him.

Old Guo was a little puzzled.

What’s happening?

Could it be they’ve recognized me?

Are they fellow performers, or haters?

Confused, Old Guo kept walking until a woman in her fifties or sixties suddenly blocked his path in front of him.

Aunt Wang rolled her eyes and said, "Hey! You little black chubby, you’re not young anymore, why don’t you understand the principle of queuing? Why are you cutting in line?"

Old Guo was surprised, wide-eyed, pointing at himself, "Are you talking to me?"

Aunt Wang pouted, "Who else would I be talking to if not you? Can’t you see we’re all in line? You’re the only one cutting, and you can’t relate?"

Old Guo hurriedly tried to explain, laughing and crying, "Aunt, I’m not here to—"

Aunt Wang interrupted with a "pooh", "Who are you calling aunt?! You look a lot older than me. Stop explaining, get to the back and queue, everyone’s watching, don’t think you can cut in line."

Old Guo was fuming inside.

Throughout his life, he never backed down in verbal sparring, but now he was at a moral disadvantage as a line-cutter.

Though he knew he wasn’t cutting in line, the situation made it look exactly like that.

"Alright, alright, you’re right, I’ll queue." Old Guo begged for forgiveness, leading an embarrassed Sun Yunpeng to the end of the queue.

Aunt Wang snorted with pride, like a general who had just won a victory.

It seemed she had seen that little black chubby before but couldn’t recall where, so she didn’t bother thinking about it anymore. She just thought about what side dishes would best complement the 30 Steamed Buns she was about to enjoy alone at noon!

Old Guo and Sun Yunpeng reluctantly went to the end of the line, and Sun Yunpeng quickly comforted, "Master, don’t take it to heart, we really did look like we were cutting in line just now."

Old Guo was in good spirits and wasn’t bothered by the minor incident, marveling at the long queue, "This stall owner must be something else. The diners are maintaining the order themselves because they’re so afraid that someone might snatch their Steamed Buns."

As soon as his Master mentioned the Steamed Buns, Sun Yunpeng became immediately excited, "I’m telling you, those Steamed Buns are amazing! I’ve had a lot of Steamed Buns while traveling for performances, but whether it’s in Yuhang or Jin City, I’ve never had anything this good. The fluffy bun skin, the perfectly seasoned filling, the juicy broth that explodes at the first bite... um, Master, why are you looking at me like that?"

Sun Yunpeng realized his Master was looking at him with a smile that seemed both amused and displeased, making him scratch his head in confusion and lower his voice.

Old Guo gave a slight snort and asked the ultimate question, "You’re praising these small buns to the skies, so why didn’t you think of saving a few for your Master and Uncle?"

Embarrassed!

Sun Yunpeng’s round face immediately showed an embarrassed expression.

How should he explain?

Claim that he has low blood sugar and needed more food?

"Uh... it’s mainly because the buns were so delicious that I didn’t even realize I had eaten them all..."

After saying that, he scratched his head again in embarrassment.

Old Guo laughed and patted him on the shoulder, "I’m glad you’re honest, keep it up and be a true man."

Officer Zhong, wearing plain clothes and a mask, was right behind Old Guo and Sun Yunpeng in the line.

He blushed at the thought of that morning’s incident.

So embarrassing, so embarrassing it was absurd!

There was such a large bag of Steamed Buns, but when he drove to work, he was shocked to find only the plastic bag was left!

His first reaction was, "Did I get robbed?"

Someone not only stole the Steamed Buns but dared to steal them from a police officer?!

This is intolerable, intolerable!

"Ergh..."

It wasn’t until he burped that he realized, maybe, it was him who had eaten all the buns.

Smacking his lips, savoring the lingering taste of the buns, Officer Zhong could only think of four words—"Terrifyingly delicious!"

So during his lunch break, he rushed back to buy another round of Steamed Buns.

When he heard Sun Yunpeng’s words, Officer Zhong felt like he’d found a kindred spirit.

That feeling was indescribable; it was like an uncontrollable impulse to eat one bun after another.

It was totally a subconscious action, completely out of his own control.

...

Wang Fan felt that bringing his gear to the scene to make Steamed Buns today was the most erroneous decision he’d made in his life so far.

From 5 AM to 1 PM, he hadn’t rested for even a minute!

From the early morning elderly brigade at 5, to the early bird office workers from 5:30 to 8, then the overtime IT crowd from 9 to 11, followed by the surrounding office workers after 11—it was non-stop.

The most he managed was a 3-minute break to use the bathroom.

And now, the three enormous basins of filling he’d prepared were nearly empty; forget about the evening, it was unclear if they’d even last through lunch!