Chapter 32: A New Challenge, Selling Steamed Buns at the School Gate of No. 3 Middle School

The next morning, early.

Lu Xingzhou opened his eyes, not daring to check the challenge task from the top donor on his phone immediately. He was truly a bit fearful; after all, how many things had he encountered in just these few days?

He had found body parts while hiking; captured drug dealers while checking in at landmarks; and as for cave diving, that was even worse—he had stumbled upon a corpse and seized narcotics simultaneously.

Lu Xingzhou thought to himself that if today's challenge was too outrageous, he would just give up and lie flat, looking for a wealthy woman to support him.

Taking a deep breath, Lu Xingzhou steeled his resolve and opened his phone. A line of text popped up.

【Yesterday's challenge task: Fishing at Guangming Bridge (Completed)】
【Task 1: Go fishing at Guangming Bridge (1/1)】
【Task Reward: World-class dynamic vision (Installed)】
【Task 2: Catch 100kg of fish (1/1)】
【Task Reward: World-class athletic balance (Installed)】

【Today's challenge task updated】
【Task 1: Sell steamed buns (0/1)】
【Task 2: Daily revenue from selling steamed buns must reach 2,000 yuan (0/2000)】
【Task Reward: World-class motorcycle riding skills】
【Message from the top donor: Streamer, you just fished up two corpses yesterday; I want to see you make meat buns!】
【Cooking assistance enabled—Recipe for Shredded Pork with Garlic Sauce buns and Shiitake Mushroom Beef buns (Installed); Food cart (in the downstairs parking lot)】

What a black-hearted top donor. Seeing two corpses yesterday and now demanding he make meat buns today—what a twisted sense of humor!

However, today's challenge was simple enough. It wasn't fishing or heading into the deep wilderness; it was just selling buns. Surely he wouldn't run into any criminal cases this time.

In the afternoon, before evening self-study, Lu Xingzhou rode his electric tricycle—now converted into a food cart—to the entrance of the No. 3 High School. Although it was mid-July, the high school students were still in classes. A high school student’s vacation is like a programmer’s hair: you look from afar and it seems to be there, but up close, it’s nowhere to be found.

As a former student of the old No. 3 High, Lu Xingzhou knew there was no cafeteria. During the hour between the last class and evening self-study, students had to buy dinner from the shops or food carts at the school gate.

"Ring, ring, ring!"

As the bell rang, the school fell silent. This was the last class of the afternoon...
Ten minutes of overtime: a slight sensation.
Twenty minutes of overtime: getting into the groove.
Thirty minutes of overtime: reaching the climax.
Forty minutes of overtime: lingering desire.

By the time it was nearly 6:30 PM, the students emerged from the classrooms like zombies drained of their vitality, looking dejected, stumbling out in twos and threes.

However, as soon as they stepped out of the gate, they were captured by a fragrance drifting through the air. The scent was neither overbearing nor subtle; it was like an invisible hand tugging at their taste buds, dragging them toward a steamed bun stall. By the time they snapped out of it, they were surprised to find themselves standing in front of the cart in a daze.

The students looked at each other, seeing a flicker of surprise in everyone's eyes. When they looked up, they realized the source of the aroma was the steam escaping from the edge of the stainless steel pot. Even that tiny wisp of steam was so rich and fragrant that it made their mouths water. The students, who had been mentally exhausted by their teacher’s overtime lecture, instantly perked up, their eyes flashing with excitement.

This immediately created a sense of crisis for the middle-aged woman next to them, who was selling pork-loin pancakes from her own tricycle. She turned toward the students drawn by the scent of the buns and began to lecture them with a look of feigned concern.

"Young man, you have no conscience! Putting so much 'tech and harsh additives' into your buns to make them smell this strong! Do you know these kids are still growing? This is terrible for their health!"

On the surface, the pancake lady was being kind, accusing Lu Xingzhou of using artificial additives. In reality, she was trying to warn the students not to buy his buns. However, while the lady sold pancakes at the school gate every day, she didn't really understand high schoolers—especially those who had just been held for an extra hour of class. They were defined by their rebelliousness.

The "tech and additives" argument might work as a warning for the uneducated elderly, but for high school students, if it appears on the periodic table, they are interested in tasting it. Trying to talk to a high schooler about "health" is redundant. Is sleeping four or five hours a day healthy? Is sitting in a classroom for over twelve hours a day healthy? A high schooler’s mental state is always: "Living is fine, and dying is okay too."

"Boss, how much for the buns?" a chubby boy asked, stepping forward.

Lu Xingzhou waved a hand. "Eight yuan each for the shredded pork with garlic sauce, twelve for the shiitake mushroom beef."

The chubby boy was shocked. "Damn, Boss, are the fillings made of gold, or is the dough made of gold? The shredded pork buns next door are only two-fifty!"

Lu Xingzhou adjusted his smart glasses. "Then you're free to go buy the two-fifty ones!"

The pancake lady watched from the side, thinking Lu Xingzhou was a fool. Eight yuan for a bun? He must be crazy with poverty! Snacks at the school gate weren't cheap, but they couldn't be too expensive either; students had limited pocket money, and some even saved up to spend half the day at an internet cafe on Sunday afternoons.

Lu Xingzhou wasn't worried. Aside from the students at the gate, hundreds of people in his livestream had already placed orders, each asking him to save a few buns for them. He wasn't worried about selling out; he was only worried about not having enough.

The chubby boy was about to leave, but the aroma wafting from the steamer was like a succubus’s fingers, constantly kneading his heart. He gritted his teeth. "Boss! I’ll take them. I want to see what a twelve-yuan bun tastes like. Give me one shredded pork and one shiitake beef."

The boy was 1.86 meters tall and weighed over 230 pounds. The reason he was so fat was that his mouth was always hungry; he’d even taste the saltiness of a sewage truck if he could. As he scanned the QR code to pay, he shed tears of regret, thinking he could just drink his seatmate’s instant noodle broth to save on lunch money for the internet cafe fee on Sunday.

However, the moment Lu Xingzhou opened the steamer, the boy stopped worrying about his seatmate’s noodle broth. The billowing steam, mingled with the scent of the filling, spread silently through the air. The other students, who had been hesitant, instantly widened their eyes, standing on tiptoe to see what could possibly produce such an aroma.

Lu Xingzhou tore a plastic bag from his cart and packed two buns for the boy. The buns were piping hot, the sweetness of the wheat mixed with the tenderness of the beef and the freshness of the mushrooms. The meat juices and mushroom broth had fully permeated the perfectly thin dough, releasing an irresistible fragrance without turning into a soggy mess.

The chubby boy couldn't resist the temptation. He wrapped the bun in his school uniform to handle the heat and took a bite. The filling burst in his mouth—the beef, soaked in mushroom broth, was hot and flavorful. The savory taste made him unable to stop.

The students behind him grew excited, shouting, "Boss, I want two! Boss, I want four!"

Lu Xingzhou waved his hands. "No rush, one by one. I have several pots, it won't delay your class. Line up, one by one!"

Hearing this, the students formed a long line. The buns sold quickly; within minutes, half of the two pots were gone.

"Boss, two buns."

Just then, a thin, dark-skinned young man with a tattoo on his right arm walked up to the cart, skipping the line.

Lu Xingzhou glanced at him. "Get in line!"

The youth froze, glaring and shaking his tattooed arm. "I said I want two buns!"

*Whack!*

Lu Xingzhou slapped his kitchen knife onto the table. "I said, get in line!"

The youth glanced at the gleaming blade, then at the thick calluses on Lu Xingzhou’s knuckles, then at the steel-cable-like muscles in his arms, and finally at his own biceps, which weren't even as thick as the other man's wrist. He didn't say a word, turned around, and walked a long way off before shouting back, "Fine! You just wait!"