Waking up to breakfast is much gentler than an alarm clock.

Qiuguo Hotel, Huaqiang North, Futian, Shenzhen As I woke up, sunlight streamed through the sheer curtains, illuminating a corner of the room. I usually loathe getting up early, but the breakfast here made me willingly sacrifice half an hour of sleep. The dining room is on the second floor. It's not very big, but it's extremely clean. White tablecloths are set with celadon bowls and plates, and the chopsticks are newly replaced, still carrying the fresh scent of bamboo. The waitress is a young woman, with a sharp and attentive look in her eyes. Seeing me arrive, she asks, "Sir, would you like porridge or noodles?" I order a bowl of plain porridge, two vegetable buns, and a small dish of pickles. The porridge is freshly cooked, the rice grains have completely broken down, and a thin layer of "porridge oil" has formed on the surface. With a gentle stir of the spoon, steam rises, carrying the aroma of rice straight into my nostrils. The vegetable buns have a vegetarian filling. Biting into one, the bright green vegetable leaves and pale yellow tofu are revealed. The flavor is perfectly balanced, just right to awaken my slumbering stomach. At the next table, a middle-aged couple, the man bald and the woman plump, are chatting in a dialect I don't understand, occasionally bursting into hearty laughter. Their table is piled high with food: youtiao (fried dough sticks), jianbing (savory crepes), steamed dumplings, soy milk... The woman picks up a golden-brown youtiao, rolls it in white sugar, and pops it into her mouth. The sound of her teeth meeting the crispy dough creates a satisfying "crunch." I think this is what they call "the smoke and fire of human life." Back in my room, sunlight now covers half the bed. The room is a decent size, with a double bed, a table and chairs, and a wardrobe—nothing more, nothing less. Yet, the mattress is just the right firmness, the quilt is neither too thick nor too thin, and the pillow is the perfect height. Even I, a notoriously picky sleeper, managed to sleep soundly through the night. Before falling asleep last night, I sat up in bed reading an old book. The warm yellow light of the bedside lamp was neither too bright nor too dim, perfect for a reader's eyes. When I grew tired, I switched off the light, and darkness gently enveloped me. Within ten minutes, I drifted into a dreamless sleep. People often say that travel is about seeing the sights. However, after seeing enough scenery, it's all just mountains and rivers, buildings and pavilions. It's often the delicious breakfast and a comfortable night's sleep that become the most cherished memories of a journey. Sunlight spills onto the corner of my bed, the morning air is fresh, and the ambiance of the room makes me feel drowsy again. I turn over, deciding to indulge in a little more sleep.