AGN -Chapter 138 Are You Interested in Going to Gusu?

Qu Jing’s move didn’t change the menu at Yunzhi Cafeteria.

Qin Huai still followed his usual rhythm—making breakfast in the morning, pastries before noon, and practicing fruit pastries in the afternoon. He worked on both heat control and hand techniques. Rice cakes became a regular item in the cafeteria: either glutinous rice cakes or lard rice cakes. Occasionally, on a whim, he would cook a pot of rice cake soup himself—only to find it wasn’t as good as the glutinous rice cakes.

Meanwhile, Qu Jing would sometimes buy plain white rice cakes and cook red bean rice cake soup at home. Chen Huihong quite liked it, often bringing Chen Huihui over in the evenings to freeload a meal, sometimes even packing a portion to bring back for Qin Huai.

If there was one person in the entire Yunzhi residential complex who welcomed Qu Jing the most, it was definitely Old Master Xu Tuqiang.

As a die-hard fan of glutinous rice cakes, Xu Tuqiang had loved them long before they became a permanent item on the cafeteria menu. He had stuck with them through their lows and highs.

Now that the “insider” who helped push glutinous rice cakes into popularity had moved into the complex, how could he not be thrilled?

If circumstances allowed—if he actually had a relevant illness—he would’ve gone to Qu Jing’s hospital just to register for her consultation and boost her performance metrics.

Time passed uneventfully into late October.

Qin Luo’s academic performance still showed no obvious improvement. She couldn’t grasp math, didn’t understand physics, was completely lost in chemistry, and had only just started learning computer science. Aside from her English—which remained outstanding—and slight improvement in Chinese, there was little visible result from her efforts.

But she had definitely lost weight.

Her face had slimmed down noticeably—from a round face to a smaller round face.

Qin Huai had reason to suspect the weight loss wasn’t due to studying day and night, but because she had been banned from eating san ding buns and wu ding buns due to poor grades. Every morning she had no appetite for Qin Congwen’s buns, ate cafeteria food at school for lunch, and only got decent food at dinner.

It was said that after realizing her second brother was truly ruthless—refusing to let her eat her favorite buns unless her grades improved—Qin Luo secretly resolved to study hard and “turn over a new leaf,” vowing never to eat her father’s buns again in the morning and to reclaim everything she had lost.

As for how Qin Huai knew about this resolution…

Because Qin Luo had posted it on her alternate WeChat account.

And why Qin Huai saw it…

Because he was friends with that account.

Back when Qin Luo created the account, it was because a new milk tea shop had opened behind her middle school. Sharing a post and getting likes could earn a free drink. She wanted two, so she made a second account and added Qin Huai to help like her posts.

Qin Huai guessed she must’ve forgotten to remove him.

That unlucky kid.

In stark contrast was Ou Yang. Although Qin Huai hadn’t been making soup every day like before, he still cooked a pot every few days.

With daily servings of san ding buns, wu ding buns, Su-style pastries, various rice cakes, fruit pastries, and soup, Ou Yang had grown noticeably rounder. Even running and working out didn’t help—whatever weight Qin Luo lost seemed to have transferred to him.

But Ou Yang claimed it was all for friendship. A bit of “work-related injury” from eating was nothing—he had a big appetite and could keep going!

Qin Huai had thought this peaceful life would continue for a while.

After all, he didn’t currently have the conditions to stir up any waves.

To complete Luo Jun’s side quest, his heat control wasn’t good enough—he couldn’t make B-grade apple fruit pastries.

To complete Qu Jing’s side quest, his luck wasn’t good enough.

He had already tried every type of rice cake he and Zheng Siyuan knew. He even searched online and discovered that meat-filled rice cakes actually existed, so he tried making shredded pork rice cakes—but still no luck.

None of them matched the taste in Qu Jing’s memory.

Now, Qin Huai had given up on brute-forcing every possibility and decided to rely purely on luck.

Since discovering Qu Jing’s secret and after she moved into the complex, her relationship with Qin Huai, Chen Huihong, and Luo Jun had rapidly grown closer. They often gathered at Luo Jun’s place for tea parties, enjoying the premium fruits he bought. All that was missing was Qu Jing’s awakening—then they would truly be close friends who could talk about anything.

With this level of closeness, Qin Huai had directly asked Qu Jing—without explaining why—what kinds of rice cakes she liked.

Her answer was simple: glutinous rice cakes and rice cake soup. She liked other fancy varieties too, but not as much as these two.

With the type narrowed down, the rest was up to luck.

Now Qin Huai alternated daily between making glutinous rice cakes and rice cake soup, hoping that one day he would hit the right taste and complete the side quest.

As Zheng Siyuan had said, rice cakes were a very simple ingredient. Their past rarity was due to regional limitations—fundamentally, there wasn’t much variation to them.

Qin Huai didn’t think he had any fatal technical flaws in making rice cakes. If the quest wasn’t complete, it could only be blamed on bad luck.

Anyway, Qu Jing had already moved in—he had plenty of time. As Chen Huihong put it, Qu Jing could live at least eight more years now.

Eight years—surely enough to complete one side quest.

And then, as expected, something unexpected happened to their peaceful life.

But it was a good kind of unexpected.

October 29th—a day destined to be remembered by most residents of Yunzhi Cafeteria.

The weather was perfect: clear autumn skies, gentle breeze, comfortable temperature. Even Granny Ding, strolling through the complex with fermented rice buns in hand, felt like taking a few extra laps.

At around 3 p.m., Zheng Siyuan and Qin Huai were in the kitchen as usual, making fruit pastries.

In the dining hall sat loyal customers waiting for them.

Zheng Siyuan felt like he hadn’t come to teach Qin Huai hand techniques.

He had come to grind away at heat control together.

He never imagined that at his age, he would still be practicing heat control—and even feel the urge to relearn fundamentals like wok tossing.

What kind of pastry demands such precision in heat?

Qin Huai was stir-frying filling.

Not only that—he was attempting a proper wok toss.

Zheng Siyuan was already used to it. After struggling with fruit pastries alongside Qin Huai for so long, even he sometimes felt the need for a satisfying big toss at critical moments to “complete” the dish.

Suddenly, Zheng Siyuan’s phone rang. He glanced at it—it was his father.

He looked at Qin Huai, then at the filling in the wok, hesitated for two seconds, and stepped aside to answer.

The call was brief. Zheng Siyuan barely spoke—just gave a couple of “mm” responses before hanging up.

“Your dad needed something?” Qin Huai had seen the caller ID. The filling was now in the simmering stage—perfect time to slack off and chat.

“He said he found two pastry chefs willing to work at your cafeteria,” Zheng Siyuan said.

Qin Huai: !

Oh my god—Zheng Da is way too reliable!

“Professional pastry chefs? Not just breakfast shop ones?” Qin Huai was stunned, the surprise almost overwhelming.

Zheng Siyuan nodded. “They both trained at Zhiweiju and have experience working in other restaurants after leaving. My dad knows their master—they’re trustworthy.”

“Chefs like that are willing to work at a cafeteria?” Qin Huai was shocked.

“Yours isn’t exactly an ordinary cafeteria,” Zheng Siyuan teased. “Many high-end restaurants don’t even have pastry chefs as skilled as yours.”

“These two are from Shan City. They’re tired of working away from home and want to return. They originally applied to another restaurant, but my dad poached them. Your pay isn’t bad, there’s commission, and the location is convenient—right by the subway. If you rely on skill to make a living, it doesn’t matter where you work.”

“They’ll arrive tomorrow. I’ll help you interview them.”

“Thank you so much—you and Uncle Zheng. I must treat him to a meal sometime!” Qin Huai said sincerely.

“No need to wait for ‘sometime.’”

“Huh?” Qin Huai didn’t understand.

“My dad and my senior uncle mean that once these two pastry chefs join, your cafeteria will have reliable staff and can run normally without us.”

“My senior uncle wants to ask you—are you interested in making a trip to Gusu?”

“He’s very interested in fruit pastries and wants to meet you in person. My dad and I have worked at your cafeteria for quite a while now—it’s only fair you come work at my senior uncle’s restaurant for a period too.”