Satan had provided many surprises, but none compared to the pure and familiar deliciousness that Gao Yuan experienced as he took a bite of the steamed bun followed by a bite of meat.
Gao Yuan's eyes widened in shock, because the melt-in-the-mouth braised pork that was fatty but not greasy, lean but not dry, was a flavor that existed only in his memory, a taste he couldn't have after the apocalypse.
There was no doubt about the culinary skills of the chefs at the Taihang Mountain Base, but the problem was the lack of fresh meat.
And when it was possible to eat wild boar at ease, Xiang Weiguo did not have the level of a professional chef.
"Damn it!"
Gao Yuan was stunned for a moment, and then he slightly quickened the pace of his hands.
Gao Yang, however, said casually, "Is the taste alright? If it's good, eat more. Our chef's skills are very authentic."
No wonder Xinghe didn't say a word and just bowed her head and ate fiercely.
