This bite has left millions of Instagram users craving! So simple to make you’ll giggle—and each mouthful is luxuriously smooth, utterly addictive!

Recently, I’ve noticed a common thread among travelers: no matter where they go, there’s almost always some lingering sense of regret. I remember visiting Yunnan in 2018—the clouds simply refused to cooperate, and I missed the legendary ‘Golden Sunrise over Jade Dragon Snow Mountain.’ Later, I vowed to return someday—even if it meant waiting several days on-site just for that one perfect moment. Little did I expect to finally ‘make up for it’—not in person, but while watching the variety show *Just the Right Young Men*: *Screenshot from Just the Right Young Men* Sigh… thanks to the show, I got to relive that long-held wish! Though I wasn’t physically there, the anxious, breathless anticipation—waiting for the clouds to part—was recreated with uncanny fidelity. Long after finishing the episode, my heart still raced—so much so that I headed straight to the kitchen to recreate that majestic golden mountain: **Snow Mountain Golden Tears** Pure white meringue is artfully swirled into an irregular, snow-capped mountain shape; then baked until it transforms into a grand, sun-drenched peak. Even more special? It spontaneously weeps golden ‘tears,’ dripping down the stark contrast of white snow and golden light—stunning to behold, irresistible to eat. This cake originates from Germany—known as *Tränchenkuchen* (‘Tear-Drop Cake’) or *Goldtröpfchentorte* (‘Golden Droplet Cake’). Germans often use meringue for cake decoration—it’s beautiful without needing whipped cream, convenient *and* delicious. It also offers two distinct textures: crisp or soft. Today’s version falls squarely into the latter—sweet, tender meringue paired with tangy cheesecake, achieving perfect sweet-tart balance. I’ve already reduced the sugar in the meringue portion—please don’t cut it further. The ‘tear’ effect relies on this principle: sugars in the meringue absorb moisture in a humid environment, then slowly seep out as caramelized droplets. Too little sugar, and the tears simply won’t form. The base layer follows classic German pairing: shortbread crust topped with rich, dense cheesecake. As it bakes, thick, creamy dairy aromas flood the kitchen—enough to steal your soul away. **Snow Mountain Golden Tears** >>> PREP & BAKE TIME >> EQUIPMENT NEEDED >> INGREDIENTS >> STEP-BY-STEP INSTRUCTIONS <<< 1. In a bowl, combine 80 g cake flour, 20 g granulated sugar, a pinch of salt, and 1.5 g baking powder. Mix well. Add 30 g egg liquid and stir until crumbly, like cotton fluff. Then add 35 g butter and cut it in with a pastry cutter or fork until the flour is evenly coated. Finally, knead thoroughly by hand until fully combined into a smooth dough. 2. Place the dough into a lined mold (skip lining if using a non-stick mold). Press evenly across the bottom and up the sides—aim for about 4 cm height along the edges.

‘What must come, will come.’ Li Xiufeng spoke with eerie calm. ‘For years, I’ve eaten only vegetarian meals and chanted sutras daily—to atone. But my sins run too deep; even the Buddha refuses to forgive me.’ She pulled out a faded Red Guard armband: ‘This is our evidence of guilt from back then. I’ve kept it—to remind myself. Officer Liang, I have one request: if I die, please return this Buddha statue to its original site and rebury the nun properly.’ ‘Do you know her Dharma name?’ ‘Su Xuemei.’ Li Xiufeng revealed a shocking truth: ‘We later investigated the identity of those remains—and confirmed they belonged to the Ming-dynasty nun Su Xuemei. She attained profound cultivation, and upon passing, her body remained incorruptible—venerated by her disciples. And we…’ That night, Li Xiufeng passed away peacefully in her nursing home room. The official cause was sudden cardiac arrest—but before dying, she used her own blood to draw a complete double-serpent symbol on the wall, beneath which she wrote: ‘My sins are atoned. May she return to her rightful place.’ Simultaneously, the fifth tear appeared on the Buddha statue—transparent as water, yet emitting a strange, fragrant sandalwood aroma. Chapter Eight: Where Does the Buddha Return? With all five tears now present, the statue underwent even more dramatic changes: its gilded surface developed fine cracks, through which a dark crimson glow emanated—like living flesh. ‘This isn’t metal oxidation,’ Qin Ming declared, stunned after analysis. ‘The substance within the cracks contains organic components—similar to… human skin tissue.’ Chen Le scoured ancient texts and uncovered a clue: ‘The Ming-era chronicle *Records of the Netherworld* states that when eminent monks or nuns pass away, their remains—treated via specific methods—may “coexist” with the Buddha statues enshrining them. The statue thus becomes a vessel for their Dharma-body, manifesting extraordinary signs when conditions ripen.’ ‘So the statue contains Su Xuemei’s remains?’ ‘More precisely, portions of her remains were fused into the statue’s material during casting.’ Qin Ming pointed to the lab report: ‘Trace amounts of ash were detected inside the statue—and carbon-14 dating confirms it dates to the Ming dynasty.’ Officer Liang decided: ‘We must return the statue to its original location.’ Locating the ruined nunnery proved easy—it lay deep in the mountains near Cihang Nunnery on the city’s western outskirts. Fifty years had passed; the temple had long collapsed, leaving only its foundation stones. Police invited senior monks from a local temple to preside over the ceremony. Just as the statue was placed onto its original stone pedestal, the unexpected occurred. All five tears simultaneously glowed. Fine cracks rapidly spread across the statue’s surface—then the entire gilded shell shattered like an eggshell, peeling away. What emerged was not clay or wood—but a seated skeleton, amber-hued, hands forming a mudra, head gently bowed. Most astonishing were its eye sockets—each held a golden stupa-like relic, embedded like tear drops. The senior monk intoned solemnly: ‘A flesh-body bodhisattva—unbroken across lifetimes. Ordinary mortals who desecrate such sanctity reap karmic retribution.’ After the ceremony, Zhou Mo and Zhao Jianguo voluntarily surrendered, confessing their crimes committed fifty years earlier. Meanwhile, Officer Liang received a new message: ‘Round Two concluded. You’ve brushed against the truth. Round Three will reveal your father’s true cause of death. Prepare yourself, Officer Liang—the darkest secret is about to emerge.’ Attached was an old photograph: a young Liang Wenyuan standing with five others before the ancient nunnery—three of whom were Zhou Mo, Su Wenhua, and Chen Guoqiang. On the photo’s reverse, handwritten: ‘Autumn 1978—Liang Wenyuan’s Research Team, Jingxin Nunnery.’ Her father hadn’t just known about this—he’d personally investigated it. Liang Yin gripped the photo tightly, gazing out the window at the sky gradually darkening. (End of Volume Two)

Chemistry in Pictures: Golden Tears

2 days ago

Organic chemistry researcher Kristóf Hegedüs documented unexpected golden spheres formed during solvent evaporation. The resulting intermediates show potential as photocatalysts for diterpene synthesis.

cen

2026-11-09

Chemistry in Pictures: Golden Tears

Chemistry in Pictures: Golden Tears

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