AGN -Chapter 104 The Upcoming Task

What Qin Huai didn’t expect was that the next morning, Luo Jun personally came to the cafeteria for breakfast again.

The same happened on the third day.

And the fourth.

For seven consecutive days, Luo Jun insisted on going out early every morning to have breakfast, without fail. He would always start with a bowl of tangerine peel tea to whet his appetite, followed by two Wu Ding buns to fill his stomach. What’s more, he arrived earlier and earlier each day.

On the first day, he came a little after 9 a.m.
On the second day, at 9 a.m.
On the third day, before 9.
On the fourth day, at 8:40.
On the fifth day, at 8:30…

By the seventh day, he arrived at 8:17.

At this point, Luo Jun had truly become a “check-in landmark” at the Yunzhong Cafeteria.

People who didn’t know him were stunned. Those who did know him were even more stunned.

Qin Huai considered himself to understand Luo Jun fairly well among humans.

Luo Jun had three main hobbies in daily life: ordering takeout and leaving negative reviews, staying up late and waking up late, and watching TV series or movies.

He also had a lesser-known habit: he disliked crowded places.

So when was the busiest time at Yunzhong Cafeteria?

Not the lunch rush around noon, but the breakfast rush around 8 a.m.

At lunch, people at least sit down to eat. At breakfast, customers buying buns move in and out like teleportation—so fast that one could complete entering the cafeteria, ordering, paying, and leaving in under 30 seconds. It was enough to make people exclaim that the Flash was among them.

The staff’s speed had also improved significantly; their packing was fast and precise. If they ever stopped working in service, they could easily transition to assembly line jobs.

Residents of Yunzhong Community were surprised that Luo Jun was willing to wake up early every day for breakfast. Qin Huai was surprised that Luo Jun was willing to drink tangerine peel tea in the crowded and noisy morning peak.

Everyone was surprised in their own way, and Luo Jun ended up becoming the cafeteria’s hottest new check-in spot.

“Is Mr. Luo really coming to eat breakfast here every day for eight consecutive days?” Qu Jing asked, having removed her mask for once, standing at the entrance of the kitchen while eating a bun and watching Luo Jun by the window.

Qin Huai felt—perhaps mistakenly—that Qu Jing looked more energetic today.

Specifically, her lips had regained some color. Previously, when she removed her mask, her lips were as pale as her face, resembling someone severely anemic.

“Yes. Today is already the eighth day. Yesterday he entered at 8:17, and today he came at 8:14. I’ve even heard that people in our community are betting on when he’ll arrive before 8 a.m.—the wager is a bag of fermented rice buns.”

“Fermented rice buns are indeed delicious,” Qu Jing said, completely ignoring the bet. “Xiao Qin, are you really not considering lifting the purchase limit on tangerine peel tea? Even though limiting it to 1,314 cups a day is a good gimmick, it’s really not enough. Our department didn’t manage to get any yesterday. Our director had to go to the cardiology department next door to grab two cups. The cardiology director wasn’t too pleased with our department when we had dinner in the cafeteria last night.”

Qin Huai: …

He truly didn’t understand your high-end private hospital dynamics.

Qin Huai knew his own limits, and he also knew his tangerine peel tea was at best C- level in terms of craftsmanship. Its popularity was entirely due to its unique “warming effect” buff.

People were drinking the buff, not his skill.

So he strictly controlled the daily output of tangerine peel tea, ensuring it did not exceed 1,314 servings.

After testing, he also found that each serving could not exceed 300 milliliters. Anything more would count as two servings, preventing people from exploiting loopholes by ordering large portions and splitting them into smaller ones.

With this system, daily sales were effectively fixed.

Qin Huai had Huang Xi purchase two large pots specifically for brewing the tea, and Zhao Rong would prepare the ingredients as soon as she arrived each day. By the time Qin Huai started work, brewing could begin immediately.

The first batch for early risers would be piping hot, while later customers would receive warm servings.

Everything had been going smoothly.

Until one day, a hospital patient took a sip of the tea and was so satisfied that they immediately placed an order for 150 cups via courier as a corporate benefit for employees.

Not only that, they shared it with other wealthy patients. Those patients followed suit and collectively bought out the entire day’s supply.

This “buyout” happened at 1:50 p.m.

The group chat of office workers waiting for afternoon tea was filled with despair.

After this incident, Qin Huai gained a clearer understanding of the world of wealthy customers, and the tea began to be strictly limited.

Each person was limited to two cups per day. For those far outside the group-order delivery range, Huang Xi arranged for an online ordering mini-program. Orders could be placed online, and once group orders were successfully formed, the cafeteria would arrange couriers for delivery.

Of course, an additional delivery fee was charged.

Customers with sufficient means could also choose direct courier delivery without group ordering.

The mini-program, once launched, received overwhelming praise. Most orders came from doctors and patients at Qu Jing’s hospital—couriers were practically establishing a dedicated route between the cafeteria and the hospital.

Naturally, some customers from group chats also used the mini-program. Even those working 996 schedules still had one day off per week, and on those rare rest days, drinking a cup of warming tangerine peel tea was pure bliss.

With strong customer support, tangerine peel tea became the top-selling item at Yunzhong Cafeteria. Within just eight days of launch, it became the best-selling product, consistently generating 19,710 yuan in daily revenue. The first thing Huang Xi did every day upon arriving was wipe down the tea menu board.

Clearly, the neurology department where Qu Jing worked lacked the speed to secure orders—even online ones.

“So, Dr. Qu, you came so early today to help your director buy tangerine peel tea?” Qin Huai asked, looking at her in a new light.

Although Qu Jing wasn’t very social and seemed like a reserved academic type, she clearly understood workplace survival.

“No,” Qu Jing shook her head. “One cup is for my night shift later. Your shop has a purchase limit of two cups per day, right?”

Qin Huai: …

He had overthought it.

After thinking for a moment, Qin Huai said, “Although the daily limit is 1,314 cups, in reality we only sell about 1,300 cups. The remaining 14 are reserved for staff and friends.”

“Dr. Qu, you’re also a friend. Today I’ll quietly make an exception and give you two extra cups.”

Qu Jing hesitated briefly, then nodded slightly. “Thank you, Xiao Qin.”

“We’re friends now—calling me Xiao Qin seems a bit distant, doesn’t it?”

“Qin… Qin chef?” Qu Jing wasn’t sure.

“Just call me by my name.”

“Qin Huai.” Qu Jing smiled a little shyly. “Then you can also call me by my name.”

“By the way, I’ll take the extra two cups to work this afternoon for our director to return to the cardiology director.”

“Are you working the night shift today?” Qin Huai asked, pretending not to know.

Qu Jing had been coming to the cafeteria regularly as instructed by her hospital director, but except for the first day in the morning, she usually came during dinner time—clearly indicating she came after work. Coming early today suggested she was on a night shift.

“Yes. The director is very kind. He said since I’m allergic to ultraviolet light and it’s inconvenient for me to go out during the day, he’ll try to schedule me for night shifts. I’ll be on night shifts for the next week.”

Qin Huai: …

The director was overthinking it—night shifts wouldn’t stop her from going out during the day.

He even considered suggesting that she rent a place in Yunzhong Community instead of commuting daily and risking sun exposure.

However, Qu Jing’s precautions were indeed thorough. Despite all this time—dating back to midsummer—Qin Huai had never seen her suffer any sunburn or allergic reaction.

Indeed, experience comes from illness.

After finishing her bun, Qu Jing bought some glutinous rice cakes and freshly steamed fermented rice buns, then happily left with her specially prepared tangerine peel tea.

Meanwhile, Luo Jun had finished his breakfast and sat at the table playing on his phone, seemingly waiting to speak with Qin Huai.

Zhang Shumei had already been sent away.

Qin Huai walked over quietly.

The well-known “check-in landmark” Luo Jun stood up: “Xiao Zhang went to buy groceries. Come back with me.”

Qin Huai followed.

Nearby onlookers whispered among themselves.

“Is Xiao Qin really Old Luo’s grandson?”

“Possible. I heard Old Luo even gave him his car—who else would he give it to if not a grandson?”

“Biological grandson?”

“Impossible. Old Luo doesn’t even have a son—how could he have a grandson? Must be a distant relative.”

“Wait, there are distant relatives too???”

As the “distant relative,” Qin Huai followed Luo Jun into an area of the community with lush vegetation and few visitors, where mosquitoes were abundant.

“How did things go with Xiao Qu?” Luo Jun asked immediately, clearly prioritizing progress—he was Qin Huai’s number-one “career supporter.”

“Very smoothly,” Qin Huai replied.

“And the task? What’s the point of smooth progress? The main thing is the side quest. If you can’t complete the main task, how will the side quests even trigger?”

Qin Huai wanted to say that the main task had made breakthrough progress recently.

Thanks to the popularity and “hunger marketing” of tangerine peel tea, Yunzhong Cafeteria’s name had spread across nearby districts. Not only were group chats one and two full, but a third group had been created. It had also reshaped people’s understanding of tangerine peel tea.

He had even heard of a customer asking a herbal tea shop in a pedestrian street why their tangerine peel tea didn’t contain white fungus and lotus seeds.

The shop owner, frustrated, renamed their white fungus and lotus seed soup as “new tangerine peel tea,” only to be asked again why it didn’t contain tangerine peel.

“Triggering side quests really depends on luck,” Qin Huai said. “Unlike main quests, side quests don’t always follow completion patterns—they seem more like random drops. One appears when the timing is right.”

“I can’t exactly ask Dr. Qu, ‘Do you have any side quests for me to complete?’”

As he spoke, Qin Huai looked at Luo Jun and mimicked such a conversation:

“For example, I couldn’t just run into you and say: ‘Mr. Luo, do you happen to have any unfulfilled wishes that could give me a side quest drop? It’s been a while since I’ve done one.’”

Luo Jun: …

“Ding—Congratulations, player, you have discovered a new side quest: ‘The Taste of Memory.’ Please check the quest panel.”

Qin Huai: ?

Wait—side quests really can be triggered by asking?!