AGN -Chapter 130 Finding the Right Feeling

The next morning, the elderly men and women who had been planning to rush out in the afternoon to fiercely snap up and enjoy a big meal of Gou’ers received the bad news that Qin Huai and Zheng Siyuan would be going on a business trip that afternoon.

Uncle Xu and Uncle Cao were so angry they almost wanted to go volunteer at the orphanage themselves.

They were resentful. Among all the elderly men and women who went for morning runs, chatted in the mornings, and camped out in the afternoons, very few had names that stood out.

Old Ding was the worst—always strutting around the neighborhood with his fermented rice buns in hand, taking walks in the heat.

Old Wang wasn’t any better—he got special treats every now and then, and the appearance rate of his “crispy crab-shell pastries” was almost becoming permanent content. It was already annoying enough listening to him reminisce about the past, but he would do it while eating his special treats in front of others.

Both of them clearly had names, yet neither of them had special treats!

Not having special treats would’ve been fine. Xu Tuqiang thought he had an advantage as a resident of the Yunzong community, with the cafeteria right at his doorstep—he could camp out and compete for food easily.

But Chef Xiao Qin didn’t even give them the chance to camp out and compete—he simply went on strike and left for a business trip!

What exactly was so special about that orphanage? Is it worth it for both Chef Xiao Qin and Chef Xiao Zheng to make pastries? Why not have all the wealthy elders pool money and donate to the orphanage?

Qin Huai couldn’t hear Xu Tuqiang’s resentment. If he knew, he would probably just say:

“Uncle Xu, let me introduce you to the WeChat of Director Qin from our Sanmalu Children’s Orphanage!”

“Director Qin loves enthusiastic people like you!”

To maximize their output for the afternoon volunteer activity, Qin Huai and Zheng Siyuan worked faster to prepare the pastries, got off work early, ate a simple and unremarkable cafeteria meal, and then drove to the orphanage.

“Why are we specifically going to the orphanage to make pastries?” This time Zheng Siyuan was sitting in the passenger seat.

Qin Huai, sticking to his principle that every drive should bring something, treated the situation as an opportunity—maybe sitting in the passenger seat would trigger a side quest today—and began improvising confidently.

“It feels better to make pastries at the orphanage,” Qin Huai said.

Zheng Siyuan: ?

“Here’s the thing—I told you before, didn’t I grow up in an orphanage as a child?” Qin Huai began his performance.

Zheng Siyuan nodded without suspicion. “You did mention that. I remember your family’s breakfast shop was across from the orphanage.”

“My pastry skills were taught by the orphanage director. Because the orphanage was short-staffed, the children had to work. Back then, my jobs were either farming or making buns.”

“From the day I made my first steamer of buns, all the buns in the orphanage were made by me.”

“This might sound like Director Qin was exploiting child labor, but you can’t entirely blame her—her cooking skills were honestly not great. Back then, conditions weren’t as good as now, and even having meat buns counted as improving meals. To save money, she cooked them herself.”

“I’m not slandering her, but her skills weren’t even as good as eating leftovers. I was the hope of the entire orphanage. Everyone relied on me for buns. Even after I was adopted by my parents, people still relied on me for buns.”

“After all, even though I was adopted, I just moved to live across the street.”

“All the chubby kids from our Sanmalu Children’s Orphanage were basically fed up on buns made by me.”

Zheng Siyuan listened for a long time and felt Qin Huai was basically reminiscing like Old Wang—he hadn’t heard a single key point.

“So why exactly are we going to the orphanage to make pastries?”

“To find the feeling,” Qin Huai said seriously. “For me, making pastries at the orphanage feels like returning to my alma mater that trained me—it’s very familiar, and it brings a special sense of connection.”

“Recently I’ve hit a bottleneck in mastering heat control. I don’t feel the same daily progress as before. Although I’ve been focusing on technique recently, I haven’t stopped practicing heat control. I’ve kept making broth every day—only yesterday afternoon I didn’t—but yesterday I did stir-fry fillings.”

“Since I haven’t made progress for so long, I think I just haven’t found the right feeling. So I want to use this chance, while helping Mr. Luo audit the accounts, to go back to the orphanage and rediscover that feeling.”

Zheng Siyuan fell silent.

He wanted to tell Qin Huai that the reason he felt daily progress before was because there was simply a lot of room for improvement—it was hard not to improve.

Now feeling like he had hit a bottleneck might just be an illusion, because at Qin Huai’s current level, it was unlikely for him to truly encounter one.

But Zheng Siyuan didn’t say it.

As an advocate of Huang Shengli’s encouragement-based teaching style, he usually wouldn’t criticize—only point out issues.

So he instead said, “After I got back yesterday, I called my dad. He and my grand-uncle both looked at that recipe. They think the Gou’ers require very high heat control, which might be a bit difficult for you.”

“And the difficulty isn’t just in stir-frying the filling—the simmering stage may be even more challenging than you expect.”

“I know,” Qin Huai nodded.

He had watched instructional videos before. He had seen Jiang Weiming’s craftsmanship clearly: the stir-frying was showy and skillful, while the simmering was understated but profound. One outward, one inward—both extremely impressive.

Even for Zheng Siyuan, whose heat control was already quite strong among pastry chefs, the filling he made would only reach C-grade when used for these buns.

This showed just how skilled Jiang Weiming’s filling technique was.

“I know I can’t reach the level required by the recipe anytime soon—maybe not even within a year or two. But practice is still necessary. If I lack feeling, I’ll find it; if my skills aren’t enough, I’ll train them. Today, I’ll start by finding the feeling.”

Zheng Siyuan felt reassured after hearing this—Qin Huai’s mindset was indeed very good.

“Last night I thought about modifying the recipe slightly to suit my current level. Later, when we both make the filling, I want to try my approach and see if it works.”

“No,” Qin Huai refused firmly. “I’ll handle the filling this afternoon—you can try tomorrow.”

“You’re almost becoming the ‘big brother’ already. I’m supposed to be the second brother. If we both make the filling today, the kids at the orphanage will call you ‘Brother Bao Bao’ and I’ll become ‘Second Brother Bao Bao’—absolutely not!”

Zheng Siyuan: “……”

He truly didn’t understand Qin Huai’s strange competitiveness. Could he compete in something else instead? And was “Brother Bao Bao” really such a strange title?

On the way, Zheng Siyuan also shared insights he had discussed with his father the night before. Since Qin Huai wouldn’t let him demonstrate hands-on teaching that afternoon, he could only provide verbal guidance and tips to avoid mistakes.

He couldn’t let the reputation of “Brother Bao Bao” be ruined.

At 1:17 p.m., Qin Huai and Zheng Siyuan arrived at the orphanage.

The guard at the gate still recognized Qin Huai and let him in without needing to contact the director. Inside the courtyard, children were playing together. When they saw visitors arrive, they looked over—and upon recognizing Qin Huai, they erupted in cheers.

“Brother Bao Bao!”

“Brother Bao Bao is here!”

“Time for buns!”

The director, Qu Yuan , heard the commotion and quickly came out to greet them. Seeing Qin Huai, she wore the same enthusiastic smile as when she had welcomed Luo Jun before.

“Chef Xiao Qin! We’ve been waiting and waiting—you’re finally here!”

“The account details have already been prepared—they’re all in my office, along with invoices and receipts. Would you like some tea? What kind—black tea, green tea, oolong, or chrysanthemum tea? How is Mr. Luo doing? Is he still in good health? I also have several thank-you letters written by the children—could you please pass them to Mr. Luo when you return? We’re truly grateful for his support!”

“Oh right, and this is…?” After finishing her fluent greeting, the director turned her attention to Zheng Siyuan, her eyes lighting up at his attire.

“He’s Chef Xiao Zheng from our cafeteria. He heard I was coming to audit the accounts and do volunteer work, so he came along to help make pastries.”

Hearing that Zheng Siyuan was there as a volunteer, the director quickly expressed her gratitude.

“Thank you so much, Chef Xiao Zheng. Our orphanage really needs enthusiastic young people like you. The buns Chef Xiao Qin made last time kept the children happily eating for five days straight—I’ve never seen them eat so eagerly before!”

“It’s great that you could come today. I’ve already purchased everything on Chef Xiao Qin’s list—it’s all in the kitchen. Would you like to go to my office for tea first, or…?”

“I’ll go knead dough in the kitchen,” Zheng Siyuan said naturally, not involving himself in the audit.

The director asked an older and relatively clever child to lead Zheng Siyuan to the kitchen, while she escorted Qin Huai to her office.

This was Qin Huai’s first time in the director’s office.

The office was located in a corner on the south side of the first floor. It was sunny but not well ventilated, and there was a faint musty smell in the air.

The room was small, with a desk, several bookshelves, and various cluttered items that made it feel cramped. On the desk were two document folders and an unfinished colorful knitted glove. The folders looked new—presumably containing the invoices and statements the director had organized.

The director handed the folders to Qin Huai and went outside to prepare tea.

Qin Huai briefly reviewed the documents.

He wasn’t actually skilled at auditing accounts, but he could roughly compare the amounts. However, the orphanage’s education and medical expenses were within his area of familiarity—he had grown up there and had a general idea of costs.

After checking everything, Qin Huai found no issues—the accounts were clear and straightforward.

“I’ve roughly gone through them—no problems,” Qin Huai said. “Right now is the children’s rest and play time. I’ll go check on them later.”

“Alright,” the director said with a smile, handing him tea. “And about the follow-up…”

“As long as the accounts are fine, and the children are fine as well, Mr. Luo will naturally continue the funding on schedule,” Qin Huai replied.

Only then did the director feel at ease, her smile brightening further.

“Chef Xiao Qin, please don’t take it the wrong way. I’ve never received such a large donation before. When have our children ever been able to afford special schools suited to them, let alone treatment? Since you hadn’t come to audit for so long, I’ve been on edge the whole time, afraid that something might go wrong with the follow-up donations.”

Qin Huai smiled without saying much, took a couple of sips of hot tea, and set the cup down.

“I’ll head to the kitchen to make pastries now. The quantity today is quite large. Director, why don’t you come help as well?”

“Of course,” the director said. “We can’t have you and Chef Xiao Zheng doing all the work while our staff stands idle. Everyone who can help is already in the kitchen. Later, we’ll have the children join in to make buns too. I’ll accompany you.”

Qin Huai and the director then headed toward the kitchen.