I spent the morning wandering through Chengde’s street market, where squares of purple, yellow, and white steamed cakes cooled on wire racks as shoppers wove past with bags of produce. Unlike the night market, a place for snacks and fun, this one carried a different energy. It was more focused, almost brisk. Fresh vegetables piled high, butchers cut meat to order, fish flipped in shallow tubs. Most items here felt like a daily necessity rather than a treat, which made it all the more ironic that the prettiest thing in sight was dessert.