竹笼揭开的刹那，水汽如江南梅雨般氤氲而起，荷叶边薄皮透出琥珀色的肉馅光影。

顶端的蟹籽像被朝露吻过的石榴籽，皮褶间渗出的汤汁在晨光里凝成蜜色琥珀，仿佛拙政园漏窗突然跌落的琉璃光。

咬破时鲜笋丁脆响如踏碎薄冰，虾仁的甜糯在唇齿间化作三秋桂子，最后萦绕的猪油香，是灶神娘娘用金线绣在味蕾上的云纹。

At the moment when the bamboo cage was lifted, water vapor rose up like the plum rain in Jiangnan, and the thin skin of the lotus leaf edge revealed the amber colored light and shadow of the meat filling.

The crab seeds at the top are like pomegranate seeds kissed by morning dew, and the soup seeping out from the folds condenses into honey amber in the morning light, like the glass light suddenly falling from the window of the Humble Administrator's Garden.

When bitten through, the fresh bamboo shoots are crispy and sound like stepping on thin ice. The sweet and sticky shrimp turns into three autumn osmanthus seeds between the lips and teeth. Finally, the lingering fragrance of lard is the cloud pattern embroidered on the taste buds by the Kitchen God Goddess with gold thread.