AGN -Chapter 127 Guo’er

Qin Huai and Zheng Siyuan each ate one apple-shaped pastry, leaving more than a dozen in the tray.

At this time of day—right around lunchtime—these dozen-odd pastries were clearly not enough to be sold randomly, and pricing them was also tricky.

Originally, Qin Huai had no intention of selling these pastries at Yunzhong Cafeteria. During his earlier practice sessions, the pastries made in the afternoon were sold in small random batches, and pricing was quite arbitrary.

Dates and apricots were cheap, apples and pears were expensive. Sometimes, if both he and Zheng Siyuan performed well, the price would be higher; if their performance was subpar, the price would be lower.

In any case, those who waited for the afternoon “random drops” were all regulars among regulars—people who had money, time, and few demands. For them, as long as there was something to buy, neither the price nor the item mattered much.

But things were different now. Qin Huai had unlocked a new main quest: the requirement was to develop five signature pastries, and currently the cafeteria only had two. Qin Huai felt that the apple-shaped pastry had strong potential to become the third.

If Qin Huai could make a B-grade apple pastry, then given its inherent quality, its taste would definitely not be inferior to any of the cafeteria’s existing pastries.

Not to mention that a properly made apple pastry also came with buffs.

Even a D-grade aged citrus tea had become a signature product thanks to its buff. Qin Huai believed a B-grade apple pastry could certainly do the same.

To become a signature product, it first had to be a permanent item on the menu.

And permanence meant pricing couldn’t be arbitrary.

If priced too cheaply, not only would it be unprofitable, but it would also diminish the pastry’s prestige. As a pinnacle of white-case pastry craftsmanship, this was a highly sophisticated item that you normally wouldn’t even find on review apps. If it were sold for 8 yuan each—cheaper than a three-diced bun—how would customers perceive it?

But if priced at 88 yuan each… that wasn’t necessarily expensive for such a pastry. However, Qin Huai was essentially making a “replica” version.

A pastry that even Zheng Siyuan felt was disrespectful to its origins.

A pastry where, if one wanted to trigger its buff, the uglier the coloring, the better.

One could say that an apple pastry should have certain expected characteristics—taste, filling, shape, color—but this one had none of them.

Wait… if it had none of those, was it still even an apple pastry?

Qin Huai’s eyes lit up as he suddenly thought of a good idea.

“Siyuan, what do you think of this recipe?” Qin Huai asked.

Zheng Siyuan had already moved on to his second pastry. Approaching it with a critical mindset, he found that the combination of bun-style filling with pastry skin was unexpectedly well-suited. If the same filling were simply wrapped in a soft bun, it might not produce the same effect.

“Pretty good,” Zheng Siyuan said sincerely. “It’s bold, but surprisingly fitting. The chef who came up with this must have strong heat-control skills and is very good at using their strengths to offset their weaknesses.”

Qin Huai picked up his one and only poorly decorated apple pastry. After steaming, it had expanded, and its color had become even more uneven, looking rather unattractive.

“What do you think about adding this pastry as a permanent item on the cafeteria menu?” Qin Huai asked.

Zheng Siyuan: ?

For a moment, Zheng Siyuan didn’t know whether to praise Qin Huai’s courage or call it sheer imagination.

Apple pastries, cafeteria, permanent menu items—what a niche combination of terms.

“I don’t think it would work,” Zheng Siyuan said tactfully. “The difficulty and time required to make this are quite high. Even if the filling is changed to meat, the overall difficulty doesn’t decrease much—in fact, it might even increase for you.”

“Even if you worked 24 hours a day without rest, you wouldn’t be able to produce many of these. High-end pastries like this aren’t suitable for mass production.”

“What if I reduce the preparation time?” Qin Huai said, pointing at the pastry. “The difficulty of making an apple-shaped pastry comes from shaping the dough into an apple. But if I don’t require such a strict shape—just something roughly fruit-shaped—and I also don’t require precise coloring, just something like this…”

“In that case, while it would still be somewhat troublesome, the process would become much faster. As I become more skilled and gain better control over the filling and dough, I could even commission a woodworker to make molds, further increasing efficiency.”

Zheng Siyuan: ??

He asked a soul-searching question: “If you make it like that… is it still a pastry?”

“That’s exactly what I was thinking!” Qin Huai said, feeling understood. “So I think this kind of item should have a new name.”

“Guo’er!”

A shortened form of “apple pastry.”

Zheng Siyuan was deeply shaken. He realized that self-taught, unconventional cooks had no psychological burden doing such unorthodox things—because they had neither traditions to break nor rules to rebel against.

Thinking about it that way, he even felt a bit envious.

“As you like,” Zheng Siyuan said with a forced smile. “As long as Mr. Luo is satisfied with the recipe he gave you, you can modify it however you want. Even changing the name shouldn’t matter to him as a diner.”

“Just don’t tell others in the future that this ‘guo’er’ is actually an apple pastry.”

“Don’t worry, I won’t,” Qin Huai replied. “I think this guo’er is really good. The filling trains heat control, and the shaping trains hand technique. Why don’t we make a few more batches this afternoon and call them new items for testing by Uncle Xu and the others? I can also practice stir-frying the filling.”

Zheng Siyuan had no objections. He agreed that, as long as it wasn’t labeled as a traditional pastry, this guo’er was indeed a very suitable practice item tailored for Qin Huai.

Since they were going to continue practicing in the afternoon, there was no need to save any for Qin Luo.

Qin Huai first took care of his own people. He called over An Youyou and Chen An, who had finished eating and were about to leave work, and gave each of them two guo’er pastries to take home and try.

Each of the other kitchen staff still on duty received one; Huang Xi got one; Qin Congwen and Zhao Rong got two each; and Ou Yang, who happened to be dining, also got two. That was it.

Chen An was already used to eating “extra” meals at the cafeteria and happily took his guo’er to catch the subway.

For An Youyou, it was her first time receiving such high-quality extras. She felt reluctant to eat it right away, yet also worried it might get squashed in her bag, since she still had a long ride home on her electric scooter.

“Brother Chen, is this the apple pastry that Mr. Zheng has been making these past few days?” she asked.

“Yeah,” Chen An nodded. “You can tell just by the shape—it’s apple-shaped guo’er.”

“Is it expensive?”

“Expensive!” Chen An said. “A while ago, when Director Chen’s younger brother came to discuss a deal, this was the pastry he ordered—it costs about 125 yuan each.”

An Youyou’s pupils shrank in shock. The plastic bag suddenly seemed unworthy of the pastry inside. She immediately held it carefully in her hands.

She had 250 yuan worth in her hands—rounded up, that was like two days’ wages in one go!

Without hesitation, she took one bite.

The guo’er was still warm, at the perfect temperature. The tightly sealed juices from the meat filling, mixed with carrot paste, spread across her mouth, while diced mushrooms and bamboo shoots provided a pleasant chew. Normally, she rarely got to eat even three-diced or five-diced buns, but now she was enjoying something of this level. She couldn’t help but close her eyes in happiness.

Chen An laughed at her exaggerated expression. “Is it really that good? You’re acting like you’re in a drama.”

“Having money is great,” An Youyou said, opening her eyes and looking longingly at the wall of Yunzhong Community. “I wish I could be as wealthy as those Uncle Wang and Uncle Qian, living in Yunzhong Community and eating Mr. Qin’s pastries every day.”

Chen An shook his head. “People like us workers shouldn’t even think about Yunzhong Community.”

“If I could even afford the down payment there in my lifetime, I’d be satisfied.”

“I will definitely live here in the future,” An Youyou said, her gaze firm. “I want to become wealthy—that’s the life I want!”

“Brother Chen, see you tomorrow. I’m going home to sleep. I still have to come back to work at 2 a.m. tomorrow. Bye!”

She quickly finished the rest of the pastry, packed the remaining one carefully, tied the bag tightly so it wouldn’t fall out, and rode off on her second-hand electric scooter, full of energy.

Leaving Chen An standing there, confused.

“2 a.m.… didn’t she say 2:30 earlier?”

“Boss doesn’t encourage coming to work too early…”