AGN -Chapter 106 Imagination

Although Chen Huihong didn’t quite understand, she did as asked.

When she picked up Chen Huihui from school at noon, she asked if she would cooperate with Qin Huai in issuing a side quest. Chen Huihui didn’t fully understand either, but she agreed and did it anyway.

Nothing happened.

Truly an earth-shaking mother-daughter duo.

Qin Huai, regretting that he had to force a side quest, also faced a headache: he couldn’t find any tutorials for making fruit-shaped pastries.

Too advanced—there simply were no tutorials.

He went back and carefully flipped through the pastry handbook again—still nothing.

Helpless, Qin Huai had no choice but to ask Zheng Da for help.

As for why he didn’t ask Zheng Siyuan, it was because Zheng Da had come to him directly. Afternoon was Qin Huai’s fixed online class time, and ever since his skill in controlling heat had reached the intermediate level, his enthusiasm for simmering soup had only increased.

Also, he had accepted the reality that his knife skills were truly poor and had no plan to practice them intensively anytime soon. He handed over all the food prep tasks to the two other “red-case” chefs in the restaurant.

Although the two stir-fry chefs in the shop were mediocre, their knife skills were definitely better than Qin Huai’s. With them handling prep, Qin Huai could focus solely on perfecting the soup, and his simmering finally went smoothly—no more embarrassing moments like squatting in the duck pen to taste the broth.

Recently, Ou Yang had been happily drinking soup and had visibly plumped up.

As for Zheng Da, he barged into the video call while Qin Huai was skimming off the scum from the stock, chatting with Huang Shengli about his recent soup-making experiences.

Zheng Da had come to Huang Ji Restaurant to chat with his senior brother.

It was obvious he had a lot of free time.

Since his senior didn’t pay attention to him, he chatted with Qin Huai on video instead.

“Xiao Qin, your soup-making skills have improved a lot!” Zheng Da praised, glancing at the color of the broth on the screen.

“All thanks to Master Huang,” Qin Huai replied modestly. Seeing that Zheng Da really seemed free, he asked, “Master Zheng, may I ask you a question?”

Zheng Da immediately perked up.

He was back in business.

“Do you know how to make fruit-shaped pastries? The kind where the dough is formed like fruit, tastes like fruit, and looks realistic enough to fool the eye?”

Zheng Da felt that he couldn’t really do it.

Huang Shengli, sitting on a chair and eating raisins, saw Zheng Da go silent and laughed: “Why aren’t you saying anything? You know how to do it, right? I remember Master taught you.”

Qin Huai’s eyes lit up.

He really knew how!

Master Jing was incredible—why did their school teach everything?

Zheng Da forced a bitter smile. “I was taught, yes… but that was… I used to know… at one time.”

Qin Huai: ?

“Xiao Qin, why do you suddenly want to learn fruit pastries? Did Luo Luo watch some drama again?” Zheng Da thought modern dramas were ridiculous—why study food for a TV show, and such advanced pastries at that?

“Yes. A few days ago, Luo Luo heard from classmates at school and said she wanted to eat them. I promised her that if her midterm scores were good, I’d make them. But today at lunch I searched online and couldn’t find any reliable tutorials, so I thought I’d ask you,” Qin Huai explained calmly.

Once the pastries were made, Qin Luo would definitely get to eat them—so the question was purely for her sake.

Zheng Da was more troubled.

His frustration was a little hard for Qin Huai to understand.

Qin Huai could tell Zheng Da knew how to make them, but probably not very well.

That was understandable. Zheng Da had been in business for years and was no longer a traditional pastry chef who kneaded dough and made pastries daily.

Fruit-shaped pastries weren’t like baked pastries or fresh meat mooncakes, which were relatively simple. If fresh meat mooncakes at C-level were “passable,” Zheng Da could easily make a B-level one to impress people and show his skills hadn’t dulled. Fruit-shaped pastries required A-level mastery to be considered acceptable.

Easily making a B-level pastry would count as a failure.

If Luo Jun hadn’t said that Liu Tao’s purchased pastries weren’t proper fruit-shaped pastries and were probably just failed imitations, Qin Huai might have temporarily given up this task.

Zheng Da’s finger skills were only at the beginner level.

And he didn’t do any shaping of pastries.

Qin Huai thought that as long as Zheng Da could do it—even if imperfect—it would be enough.

He’d first guide him through the basics.

The rest would be free play.

Advancing finger skills from beginner to advanced in a short time was impossible, but with one or two months of practice, reaching intermediate level seemed doable.

After all, finger techniques weren’t like soup simmering—you could practice anytime.

If Qin Huai wanted, he could even make shaped buns.

“Is there a problem?” Qin Huai asked directly.

Seeing Zheng Da hesitate, Huang Shengli helped explain:

He moved Zheng Da out of the screen and repositioned his phone, saying to Qin Huai: “It’s not that he can’t do it, or that he’s unwilling to teach you. He’s afraid that after you make some progress in red-case pastries, you’ll get discouraged with white-case pastries.”

“He’s worried you’re some genius who’s never faced setbacks and will crumble if you’re suddenly challenged,” Huang Shengli laughed.

“When did I ever say that? Senior Brother, don’t slander me! Xiao Qin, don’t listen to Huang Master—this isn’t my meaning at all, it’s completely his!” Zheng Da’s voice off-screen was dramatic.

Qin Huai thought Zheng Da was overthinking.

Discouraged? Have you seen the S-level locust flower bun video tutorial?

Haha, completely incomprehensible.

Have you ever seen a genius with beginner knife skills, intermediate heat control, and beginner finger techniques?

The system scolded him for not shaping pastries at all.

So far, the system still considered him a total novice.

“Master Zheng is overthinking,” Qin Huai smiled wryly. “I don’t think I’m a genius, at most I have slightly better talent than average.”

This left Huang Shengli and Zheng Da speechless.

Zheng Da squeezed back into the frame: “Xiao Qin, although you couldn’t find a reliable video tutorial, you probably know roughly how to make fruit-shaped pastries, right?”

Qin Huai nodded.

“It’s normal that you couldn’t find a video tutorial because this pastry… simply doesn’t have one.”

Qin Huai: ?

“Fruit-shaped pastries are truly something a master must guide you into—your personal practice is essential. They demand extremely high skills from the chef, and it’s a pastry that outsiders or ordinary chefs shouldn’t even attempt.”

“Also, this kind of pastry is usually taught hand-to-hand by a master. It requires years of learning and experience, trying it step by step before success is possible.”

“Of course, I’m not saying you can’t do this. In my view, you could do it. But fruit-shaped pastries have one very important factor—they require the chef’s imagination.”

“When my master first taught me, I could only make the designs he showed me. If he told me to do it myself, I couldn’t.”

“My master said I wasn’t suited for this pastry. I didn’t understand at the time. Later, I happened to see Master Tan at Zhiwei Ju make fruit-shaped pastries. Truly ingenious, extremely imaginative and creative. Only then did I understand why my master said I wasn’t suited for it.”

“I don’t know how to describe you. Even though you’re self-taught and haven’t apprenticed, I feel like the pastries you make have always been imitative.”

“Imitative?” Qin Huai was a bit surprised.

Imitating what?

The pastry handbook?

“Generally, self-taught chefs are the most imaginative and creative because no one taught them—they just do things their own way.”

“But you are the opposite. You are excellent at imitation: whatever you’re taught, you learn and do exactly, without trying to innovate.”

“Frankly, you’re not suited for fruit-shaped pastries either.”

For some reason, Qin Huai felt like he’d just been scolded.

But habitually imitating?

Qin Huai paused, then realized—yeah, that’s true.

While he was lost in thought, he heard Huang Shengli and Zheng Da’s off-screen commentary in the video:

“You say I slandered you, but what you said is worse,” Huang Shengli sighed. “No wonder you never had apprentices. How did Siyuan put up with you as a child?”

“Wasn’t it because Senior Brother said Xiao Qin was too rigid, and didn’t put his soul into cooking, that I gave him a tough lesson? Now that’s settled, and I get called the villain?”

Qin Huai: …

“Huang Master, Zheng Master, your video call hasn’t ended, I can hear you,” he said.

The next second, the call ended.

Zheng Da sent a WeChat message:

Zheng Da: Xiao Qin, this was all Huang Master’s idea—don’t mind it. Tonight I’ll tell Siyuan to come by your place in a couple of days and share some cooking techniques with you, teach you basic finger skills. He can make fruit-shaped pastries.

Zheng Da: I just happened to buy an apartment in the next community. Your community’s listings are too scarce—I couldn’t buy there otherwise.