Wang Fan's speed was incredibly fast. He was always a quick guy, don't overthink it; I'm just talking about cooking here.
Over 200 steamed buns, neatly arranged on the bamboo steamer, and it took Wang Fan just seven or eight minutes.
He opened the stove, and the oil in the large frying pan had just started to heat up a little. He picked up the bamboo steamer and placed the small buns one by one into the pan.
Due to the low flame, the pan didn't make that sizzling sound of frying, but a peculiar aroma of dough quickly filled the air.
While continuing to make steamed buns, Wang Fan meticulously smelled the changes in scent from the frying pan. As soon as a slight burnt aroma was released, he stood up, uncovered the lid, poured water into the pan, and then covered it again.
While continuing to make buns, he laughed and said to Zhuo Qianqian, "Help me write a sign: Authentic thumb-sized pan-fried buns, 1 yuan each, 4 yuan for 2, 6 yuan for 3, 10 yuan for 5, 20 yuan for 10."
"Huh?"
