Gourmet: A Late-Night Food Stall, Hunted by the Entire Internet!

Bro, if you've never lived in an unfinished building, there's no need to write about the protagonist living in one. Twenty-eight floors, if it's truly unfinished, you're lucky if there are even walls. No water, no electricity, it takes ten minutes to go up and down every day, there aren't even doors, no railings on the stairs, and if you're not careful when you get home at night, it'll just be reopened.

A mobile food truck with a cat? The author must have never owned a cat or is just a casual observer. Putting everything else aside, cat shedding alone affects food safety. What about people allergic to cat hair? And the cat will find its own place to pee?

Eating 100 or 200 dumplings all the time? Are you sure anyone can eat that many? Let alone ordinary dumplings, even 200 dumplings the size of a little finger could kill a person.

The plot and writing are passable; suitable for those who don't want to think too much. The major flaws are the overly explicit male characters, which are uncomfortable; a large portion of the story focuses on a mother in stockings; and the mother unconsciously acts coquettishly towards men for a hard-boiled man.

Creating a character like Mu Mu is disgusting. I wanted to read a food story, not your awkward and idiotic romance.

The plot is toxic, featuring the 28th floor, food prices, ingredient sources, a woman who's overly friendly, various big eaters, the author having a cheat code yet still working a job, and even going back to live in an unfinished building; the tasks are also quite abstract. The writing style is decent; the descriptions, preparation, and cooking of food are very evocative. Overall, it was amazing in the early stages, but after chapter 40 it felt like there were many unreasonable things going on.

Upon reaching chapter 59, a bizarre plot involving the female lead and her family vying for the emperor's favor suddenly appeared—truly toxic… ... A completely nonsensical plot...

The book reviews seem to have a lot of flaws, so I'll just leave.

A lion's head meatball costs 88 yuan, a plate of fried noodles costs 188 yuan, and a pound of braised beef costs 500 yuan—that's outrageous profiteering! While top-tier restaurants may charge similar prices, their costs are much higher.

It feels like the author lives in an upscale neighborhood; writing about street vending feels out of place. Shouldn't the protagonist buy ingredients at a farmers' market or wholesale store? Why write about buying them at a supermarket? In second-tier cities, roasted chicken wings and drumsticks generally cost 7 or 8 yuan, while in first-tier cities they cost 9 to 15 yuan, and sometimes even more. It just feels out of place.