AGN -Chapter 113 Flower Steamed Buns

There are many kinds of beautiful pastries.

Lotus crisps, layered crisps, dragon beard crisps, plum blossom crisps, boat-style pastries, fruit-shaped pastries, longevity peaches…

In theory, as long as a pastry chef wants to, any pastry can be made very beautiful. Steamed buns can be shaped into flower buns; lotus crisps can be made to truly resemble lotus flowers; even more exquisite creations can be given unique names of their own.

“Clear Water Hibiscus,” “Two Dragons Playing with a Pearl,” “Plum Blossom in Red Bloom,” “Jade Rabbit Seeking the Moon”—just by the names alone, one cannot tell whether they are pastries or milk tea flavors.

Over 90% of these kinds of pastries, Qin Luo had not even seen, let alone heard of.

After all, when pastries reach this level, they are rarely circulated in the market.

For many years, Qin Luo’s greatest wish was that one day her dear brother Qin Huai would firmly say to her:

“Luo Luo, if you ever want to eat a pastry, just tell your brother anytime. I’ll make it for you!”

And now, that wish had come true.

On the very day her second brother refused to let her eat five-spice buns in the morning, her eldest brother helped her fulfill it that same evening!

According to insiders, when Zheng Siyuan asked Qin Luo if she had any pretty pastries she wanted to eat, and said he would teach Qin Huai to make them so Qin Huai could make them for her every day, Qin Luo was at that moment devouring the substitute for apple-shaped pastries—actual apples—as if seeking revenge.

The moment Zheng Siyuan said that, Qin Luo almost choked to death on the apple out of excitement, and then spent five minutes without thinking of a single pastry.

In the end, Zheng Siyuan listed over 30 kinds for her to choose from.

“So… you finally chose flower steamed buns?!” Qin Huai was still trying to shape red bean buns into Doraemon.

“Is there anything wrong with flower buns?” Qin Luo asked while eating a vegetable bun made by Qin Congwen. “I’ve seen photos of flower buns online—dragon-phoenix fish-and-flower designs, they look super beautiful!”

“What I’m curious about is how you ended up choosing flower buns out of lotus crisps, dragon beard crisps, and golden thread rolls,” Qin Huai said.

Even if flower buns were beautiful, they were still just steamed buns—and plain ones at that, without fillings. That didn’t match Qin Luo’s aesthetic preferences at all.

For Qin Luo, the tastiest pastries in the world were definitely meat-filled ones. Next were imperial-style pastries—anything associated with royalty felt luxurious. After that came pastries with fancy names or fancy appearances.

Flower buns, in her view, didn’t really count as pastries—they were more like breakfast steamed buns.

Zheng Siyuan quietly wrapped wontons while listening to the siblings talk.

“Because I’ve never heard of the other pastries that Brother Siyuan mentioned,” Qin Luo said honestly. “A lot of them are ‘this crisp’ and ‘that crisp.’ Brother, you can’t even make crisps properly—your baked ones don’t taste as good as Brother Siyuan’s.”

Qin Huai: “?”

“But I do know flower buns are steamed buns. And Brother, your steamed buns are delicious—buckwheat buns, locust flower buns, fermented rice buns—they’re all great. I trust you to make steamed buns!”

Qin Huai’s eyes welled up.

His little sister truly was his good sister!

At the moment she was making her greatest wish, she was thinking entirely about him.

How touching!

He would definitely practice hard…

“And those crisps and cakes Brother Siyuan mentioned are obviously not meat-filled,” Qin Luo continued after swallowing the last bite of her bun. “Brother, when you make flower buns for me, make them with meat fillings—pork, beef, lamb, chicken, I’m not picky! If not, shredded radish, pickled cabbage with vermicelli, red bean paste, lotus seed paste, or salted egg yolk fillings are fine too!”

“I trust that whatever you make will taste great,” Qin Luo said, giving Qin Huai a confident look.

Qin Huai: “……”

All that emotion—wasted.

You little troublemaker, do you even know why steamed buns are called steamed buns?

Qin Huai silently handed Qin Luo a tea egg. “Eat this and head back to school. Don’t be late.”

Qin Luo started rolling away.

“Luo Luo, do you have any preferred shapes?” Qin Huai asked, thinking that although she might really want meat buns, it wouldn’t hurt to ask about shapes.

“Doraemon!”

“Brother, the Doraemon you made yesterday wasn’t very accurate, but it was super impressive. I got 92 likes when I posted it on my Moments!”

“I want to eat a Doraemon flower bun!”

“But I don’t want it blue. The one you made yesterday had no color. I’ve seen blue foods online—they look kind of gross. Can you make it yellow instead?”

Qin Huai felt there was still something redeemable about his sister: “I was thinking the same thing!”

Silently wrapping wontons, Zheng Siyuan: “……”

Society is going downhill—truly downhill.

That very day, Qin Huai started practicing flower buns.

It had to be said, Zheng Siyuan’s teaching approach was very effective. Qin Huai made noticeably smoother progress with flower buns.

Of course, he couldn’t reach the same outrageous level as apple-shaped pastries, but it was still much better than animal-shaped buns.

As the name suggests, flower buns can take on many floral shapes.

In feudal times, flower buns were imperial tributes, enjoyed by royalty throughout the seasons. As dynasties fell and history progressed, they spread into the civilian population, like many other palace delicacies.

Unlike some imperial foods that were lost over time, flower buns are among the few that have flourished. Although their essence is just decorative steamed buns, their appearance is extremely refined.

Birds and beasts, flowers and insects, dragons and phoenixes bringing auspiciousness, tigers warding off evil, the Eight Immortals celebrating longevity—with increasingly refined ingredients and tools, flower buns have become highly competitive in terms of aesthetics. There are even annual competitions, and winning entries often leave viewers exclaiming:

“What—you’re telling me this is a pastry?!”

So, did Zheng Siyuan have that level of skill?

Of course not.

Although Zheng Siyuan was an excellent white-belt pastry chef, finger technique—like knife skills—is something that doesn’t need to be maxed out for a balanced chef. Reaching a certain level is sufficient.

The level of refinement in flower buns’ shaping is comparable to tofu carving in knife work. These skills don’t significantly affect taste, but they elevate presentation and perceived quality.

They make people look at them and immediately think:

“Damn, that’s impressive.”

Since Qin Huai was practicing flower buns, Zheng Siyuan naturally started teaching him from the simplest floral shapes.

A flick of the dough, a pinch, a squeeze with chopsticks, a twist—and a flower that could almost be used to make butterfly crisps was born.

“How do you know how to do everything?” Qin Huai couldn’t help but marvel as he watched Zheng Siyuan’s skilled hands.

From his perspective, Zheng Siyuan seemed almost all-purpose.

As a Su-style pastry chef, he could make all kinds of Suzhou pastries, boat-style dim sum, fruit-shaped pastries, imperial-style desserts, and now even flower buns. He also knew how to make soups and had decent knife skills.

Qin Huai felt Zheng Siyuan had no right to find himself impressive—if anything, Zheng Siyuan was the truly extraordinary one.

“It’s all taught by my father,” Zheng Siyuan said. “And my father learned from my master.”

“I often feel my master is the truly all-around one. He’s proficient in both hot dishes and pastries. Although my uncle specializes in Su cuisine and Huaiyang cuisine, I heard my master also knows Shandong and Sichuan cuisines. It’s just that people in our region didn’t eat those much, so my uncle couldn’t learn them all, and my master didn’t teach them extensively.”

“My father learned many different pastry styles, but he wasn’t deeply specialized. When I was young, both my father and my uncle often described what my master’s pastries tasted like, but I’ve never seen them in person or in photos.”

“My father said my master had been through a lot—no children, a scarred face, a leg injury that made walking difficult. My uncle said his accent was northern, but he never spoke of his past or expressed any desire to return north.”

“I’ve never met my master, but I deeply admire him,” Zheng Siyuan said.

“I admire him too,” Qin Huai nodded, pointing at the flower he had just shaped. “Why does mine look a bit strange?”

“You used too much force earlier. Try again with about 30% less force.”