Mr. Zhongli, we can't slack off anymore!

Pushing open the heavy wooden door of Lambad Tavern, a wave of bustling warmth instantly enveloped me, as if I had stepped into another world. The cool evening air of Sumeru City was completely shut out, replaced by an intense, almost overwhelming mixture of aromas: the sizzling, charred fat of meat on the grill; the vibrant fragrance of various spices—fennel, coriander seeds, chili powder, and a hint of curry leaves—blooming under the heat; the warm, malty sweetness of freshly baked naan bread; and the pervasive, rich, slightly intoxicating scent of ale. These olfactory molecules collided and fused intensely, creating a unique, mouthwatering "human touch" characteristic of Lambad Tavern.

The room was filled with a cacophony of voices, like being inside a giant resonating chamber. In one corner, several young men dressed in the green-trimmed robes of the Sulun School were arguing heatedly over a formula for elemental force conversion, their voices rising so high they drowned out the whispers at the next table. On the other side, several weary, gilded mercenaries from a traveling guild pounded on the table, boasting loudly in their rough, desert-accented tones about their recent adventures, their glasses clinking together. Waiters, their voices drawn out, nimbly weaved through the narrow aisles, trays held high above their heads, their calls rising and falling: "Freshly grilled skewers—make way!" "Your peach juice—be careful, it's hot!" In the background, the clanging of spatulas from the kitchen and a lively folk tune drifting from somewhere nearby filled the air.

I sat down at an empty seat near the window. The wooden tabletop had a smooth, oily sheen from years of wiping, and still bore traces of grease left by previous customers. Outside, the lights of Sumeru City lit up one after another, adding a flowing backdrop of light and shadow to the bustling tavern. A young waiter in a clean apron, with a憨厚 (honest and simple) smile, quickly approached, fine beads of sweat on his forehead: "What would you like to eat, sir? Today's coconut stew is Old Man Lambard's specialty, loaded with spices! Or how about some crispy coconut charcoal cakes? Freshly baked, perfect with some peach juice to cut through the richness!"

"One coconut charcoal pancake and one glass of peach juice, please." I ordered my most familiar combination, my voice barely audible amidst the noise. The waiter readily agreed and turned to disappear into the crowd.

While waiting, I relaxed my tense shoulders, leaned back in the slightly hard chair, and aimlessly scanned my surroundings. At the next table sat an elderly scholar with white hair and beard, sipping a dark beverage under the dim light while intently taking notes on a thick, open ancient book, seemingly oblivious to the bustling activity around him. Diagonally opposite, a young couple shared a large plate of roasted meat and naan bread. The girl smiled as she fed the boy a piece of meat smeared with sauce, and he awkwardly tried to wipe the sauce from her lips with a handkerchief. A sweet warmth flowed between them as their eyes met. This ordinary, heartwarming scene, like a tiny piece of candy, quietly melted away amidst the noise, bringing a subtle, almost imperceptible sweetness. Not far away, several middle-aged men who looked like businessmen were talking in hushed tones, their expressions serious, their fingers gesturing routes and prices on the table—clearly conducting an important transaction. Lambad Tavern is a miniature universe of Sumeru City, where scholarship, adventure, livelihood, and love all unfold.

Soon, the waiter returned with a tray. On the wooden tray, three round coconut charcoal cakes were stacked together, their edges grilled to a golden brown and crispy, with tempting little bubbles rising to their surfaces, emitting a rich, sweet aroma of coconut milk and a unique charcoal-grilled fragrance, steaming hot. Next to them was a large glass of chilled peach juice, a bright pinkish-orange, with fine droplets of water condensing on the glass, and a few pieces of chopped fruit floating inside—just looking at it made one's mouth water.

"Enjoy your meal!" The waiter put down the food and hurried back to work.

I picked up a coconut charcoal cracker, the scalding heat seeping through my fingertips. Gently breaking it open, a crisp "crack" filled the air, releasing a richer coconut aroma. The inside was surprisingly soft and white, as delicate as a cloud. I eagerly took a large bite; the crispy exterior and the soft interior created a wonderful contrast in texture. The rich, sweet coconut milk instantly filled my mouth, mixed with the unique, slightly smoky aroma of charcoal—simple yet satisfying. With each chew, I could taste the subtle sweetness and chewiness of the grains themselves. No need for extra sauces; this pure warmth was enough to comfort a hungry traveler.

Swallowing the sweet aroma, I then picked up the chilled peach juice and took a big gulp. The cool, sweet and sour juice, like a refreshing mountain spring, instantly washed away the slight greasiness of the coconut biscuit and the burning sensation in my mouth. The unique sweet and sour flavor of the peach, a blend of peach and berry, danced on my tongue, refreshingly invigorating. The small fruit pieces in the juice added texture and brought genuine satisfaction. A bite of hot biscuit, a sip of iced drink—the alternation of hot and cold, the interplay of sweet and fragrant flavors—this simple food combination brought immense happiness.

I slowed my pace, savoring the remaining coconut charcoal cakes in small bites, my gaze returning to the window. The night in Sumeru City deepened, the lights growing ever brighter. The clamor in the tavern seemed to settle into a calm rhythm; the scholars' debates turned into hushed discussions, the mercenaries' stories drew to a close, leaving only clinking glasses and satisfied sighs. Sitting here alone, enjoying the food and observing the myriad aspects of life, a strange sense of belonging quietly grew within me. Though merely a passerby, at this moment, the warmth, the bustle, and the aroma of food in the Lambad Tavern acted like an invisible cocoon, temporarily enveloping the weariness of my journey and the alienation of this foreign land.

The juice in my glass was empty, and only a few crumbs of coconut charcoal cake remained on the plate. I sighed contentedly, my body completely relaxing. I called the waiter to settle the bill, and he quickly cleared the plate, thoughtfully asking, "Would you like to pack some coconut charcoal cakes to eat on the road tomorrow? They'll taste good even cold!" I thought for a moment, then smiled and nodded. Watching the waiter skillfully wrap the remaining two cakes in oil paper, my longing for this bustling yet warm Lambad Tavern grew even stronger. Pushing open the wooden door, I stepped back into the cool night air. The warm light and noise of the tavern behind me gradually faded inside, but the satisfaction from the food and the warmth of home-cooked meals, along with the packed coconut charcoal cakes, were carried into the night of Sumeru.