The Golden Baozi

Prologue

¨Tao, what do you want?¨ Zitao's mother questioned the small boy. The small boy, Zitao, swept away his long, straight, black hair, looking up at the case of baked goods. After studying the case for a few seconds, his eyes settled on a white, steaming bun. Zitao leaned in toward the glass that was guarding the pastry, making sure it remained perfectly shaped until purchased. His tongue, unconsciously, brushed over his lips as the smell of beef emitting from the bun reached his nose, causing his mouth to water.

He tugged on the hem of his mother's coat, raising a small finger to point to the pastry. His mother followed his finger, her eyes stopping on the steaming bread. She gave Zitao a small nod and one of her white, beautiful smiles. She turned back to the clerk who was waiting to grab the pastries they requested.

¨Could I please have one of those? A . . ,¨ she leaned down to read the chinese written on the piece of paper in front of the tray filled with the white bun that vaguely resembled a dumpling. After reading the label, she leaned back up to the clerk and smiled, finishing her sentence.

¨A Baozi,¨ she said, repeating what she had just read from the note card. The clerk leaned down into the display case, grabbing the Baozi. He pulled back out of the case, locking the back with a key that was attached to the lanyard around his neck. He pushed the Baozi into a paper bag, stretching his hand, palm up, toward Zitao's mother, waiting for the required payment for the Baozi.

¨That will be 1 yuan,¨ said the clerk, his rasping voice giving the impression that he had been yelling quite a lot the night before. Zitao's mother handed the man the yuan, smiling once again as their hands brushed for a second as she carefully set the yuan on his palm. The clerk smiled back then turned quickly to deposit the payment into the cash register. He turned back around and leaned over the counter, handing the bag down to Zitao. He flashed a sparkling smile at the small boy.

¨Here you go, little one,¨ the clerk said to the boy. Zitao pulled back away from the bag, away from the strange man, and hid behind his mother. His mother reached out her hand and grabbed the bag containing the Baozi from the clerk.

¨Thank you,¨ she said, giving the man one last smile before turning back to Zitao, grabbing his hand and walking him to one of the tables, lifting him up to sit on the cushioned chair. Although he was positioned on the chair so that he was sitting on his folded legs, he still came up too short on the table so that is was very difficult to eat comfortably. His mother sat on the opposite side of the table, setting the bag down on the wood surface. She took out the Baozi, which was slowly cooling down as it waited to be consumed. She handed the bun to Zitao, stretching across the table to reach the small boy. He reached up to accept the pastry, his hand immediately being warmed by the heat of the Baozi.

Zitao looked down at the bun, looking for a plump spot, perfect for the first bite of the tasty breakfast food. He lifted the Baozi to his mouth, filling his nose with the scent on beef and bread. Zitao opened his small mouth, shoving as much of the bun in as he could fit. His eyes grew to twice their normal size as his teeth sunk into the soft bread, making an opening for the boiling juice from the beef inside to escape into his mouth, burning his soft tongue as it spilled over the edge and quickly filled his entire mouth.

Zitao quickly yanked the Baozi out of his mouth, rushing to set it down on the napkin in front of him, to make sure it didn't make contact with the table. After setting the bun on the napkin, he clumsily reached over the table's edge, grabbing his mother's water glass, taking a mouthful of water, sloshing it around his mouth, cooling down his burned tongue.

After the fire that had started on his tongue had been extinguished, Zitao grabbed the bun again, taking another chance with the Baozi now that it had been cooled by the air in the room. He opened his mouth once again and put the tip of the bread into his mouth, being slightly more careful the second time around. He bit down on the Baozi, slowly sinking his teeth back into the soft outer skin on the bun, bracing himself for the burning sensation. He took a small bite out of the Baozi, chewing the bread and meat slowly, savoring it. Zitao's eyes widen again, for a different reason this time. He looked back down at the bun, meat almost falling out. He opened his small mouth as large as he could and stuffed as much of the bun in as he could, closing his eyes, focusing on the taste of the Baozi.

This is the best thing I have ever tasted, nothing could get better than this, thought Zitao, his eyes still closed as he finished his mouthful, A Baozi . . .