The small shop "being urged to open by the entire internet" resumes operations today. The city’s temperature reflected in two water-fried buns for one yuan.

Recently, a small shop in Shanghai selling two water-fried buns for one yuan and a bowl of spicy beef soup for three yuan suddenly became a trending topic on various social media platforms. The story began after the Spring Festival when a customer filmed a playful video calling out to the owner of a breakfast shop in Pudong, Shanghai, saying, “You’ve been away for almost a month, aren’t you coming back to open?” The video quickly went viral, causing the small, unassuming shop to be flooded with online calls urging it to reopen. Owner Wang Kaiyang received over 200 calls in a single day.

Facing sudden popularity, Wang Kaiyang promised not to raise prices: “It’s not easy for workers to earn their living, so I sell cheaply to sell more with small profits.” In a first-tier city like Shanghai, operating costs are high—rent, utilities, raw materials, labor—all add pressure. Yet Wang Kaiyang kept prices at levels from a few years ago, with breakfast costing just seven or eight yuan. Netizens marveled that Shanghai has “breakfast prices lower than those in counties,” and some praised this pricing as “keeping the original intention of helping workers eat well.”

In a mega-city like Shanghai, physical laborers who keep the city running—such as sanitation workers and delivery riders—often need to wake early for work. They greatly need affordable, hearty breakfasts. A bowl of hot spicy beef soup and a few freshly made water-fried buns are simple but extraordinary, providing those in need with a solid start to their day. These small shops that fill stomachs with just a few yuan not only show the city’s warmth but also reflect its true character.

Wang Kaiyang’s younger brother runs a similar breakfast shop in Minhang, Shanghai. When he learned that his brother’s shop was short-staffed, he brought his wife and father-in-law to help. After the shop gained popularity, local residents spontaneously formed a “fireworks mutual aid chain,” with nearby businesses cooperating—such as a mutton shop offering combo discounts on beef soup, and neighboring stores helping to lay steps for electric scooters to prevent congestion.

The day before opening, reporters visited this Henan water-fried bun shop. The owner and family were preparing for the next day’s reopening. Wang Kaiyang brought 150 jin of sesame oil and vermicelli from his hometown—ingredients that are hard to find elsewhere. When asked, the owner’s wife said, “It’s quite stressful to become popular; I just worry about not serving customers well.” Wang Kaiyang stated: “The buns are still two for one yuan, and the spicy beef soup is still three yuan a bowl. Same prices.”

On March 8, the shop reopened, with long lines at the door. Many customers were regulars from the neighborhood, and some came just to check in. A customer from Henan said: “The portions are generous, and it tastes like home!” A customer from Shandong joked that they saw the shop online and came specifically to visit. They waited half an hour, only moving forward a few steps.

Familiar flavors, familiar prices—customers remember the owner, and the owner recognizes the customers. Though modest, these places help those working far from home find a taste of home in the city. In ever-changing Shanghai, maintaining some constants is a warmth in itself.

Reporter: Wang Cheng

Editor: Wang Cheng

Chief Editor: Xie Chun