"There are plenty of legends about where mooncakes came from. One of the most widespread says Zhu Yuanzhang, the founding emperor of the Ming, came up with them during his rebellion against the Yuan. Personally, though, I think whoever invented mooncakes must have been a foodie who kept looking up at the moon and thinking-it looks just like a cake..."
In front of a stall, Chu Ge was introducing mooncakes to Qiu Wuji, who thought his personal analysis made more sense.
Just as whenever she saw white clouds, she thought they looked like cotton candy...
That was exactly how ancient people were! Absolutely!
"But these mooncakes are so small. They don't look like the moon, either." Qiu Wuji craned her neck to examine the assortment on the stall, unimpressed.
Mostly, she had noticed the price tags. Why were these things so expensive? Such tiny cakes, four in a box, selling for 298. Were they made of gold inside?
And they didn't look like the moon-so small and thick!
"You can't stand these gift-box mooncakes either?" Chu Ge was delighted to discover another way they were alike as a couple. "I don't like them either! Come on, let's look at these rustic mooncakes!"
These so-called rustic mooncakes really were large, flat, round cakes that looked very much like the moon. They normally cost a few yuan apiece, and had only cost a few tenths of a yuan when he was little. Chu Ge had loved them since childhood. Heaven knew why they had fallen out of fashion, while the expensive, unappetizing ones had become popular instead.
Qiu Wuji also spotted some particularly huge ones, a foot or two across. Enormous, enormous cakes!
"I want that one! I want that one!" Qiu Wuji happily pointed at a foot-wide cake. "Now that's the