AGN -Chapter 157 Apple-shaped Pastries B+ Rank

At noon, Gong Liang finally got to eat the apple-shaped pastries made by Qin Huai as he wished, and he posted three Moments.

While eating his employee meal, Qin Huai saw Gong Liang’s posts, didn’t quite understand them, casually liked all three, and then continued eating.

Today’s employee meal was, as usual, a private dish prepared by Huang Jia.

It consisted of lion’s head meatballs with crab roe, stir-fried cauliflower, and stir-fried shredded vegetables.

Huang Jia was thoughtful enough to rotate dishes so Qin Huai wouldn’t get tired of eating the same things every day.

As Qin Huai mixed rice with the lion’s head meatballs, he muttered to himself, unable to understand why people had such inexplicable obsession and pursuit of these pastry “fruit” creations.

Both Huang Anyao and Gong Liang were like this, and even the highly skilled Huang Jia clearly liked these pastries, treating them as rare delicacies.

In Qin Huai’s personal opinion, these pastries were just average—something interesting to try once. If he had to choose something to eat every day, he would definitely go for fermented rice buns or five-spice buns.

Of course, the main reason was that his skill level was limited.

Qin Huai continued eating heartily.

“I heard you don’t need to stir-fry vegetables this afternoon,” Zheng Siyuan, who had already finished eating, asked as he put down his utensils.

Qin Huai nodded. “Master Huang said my vegetable stir-frying has improved these past couple of days. I’m not actually switching careers to a hot-dish chef; reaching this level of control is enough.”

“What are you cooking today?”

“Shredded pork.”

After several days of intensive training, Qin Huai’s mastery of heat control had improved significantly. Before leaving this morning, his game panel showed:

Player Name: Qin Huai

Unlocked Illustrations: 5/12

Skills:

Dough Fermentation (Intermediate): Your dough skills surpass 93% of pastry chefs nationwide. (9227/10000)

Filling Preparation (Advanced): Your filling skills surpass 96% of pastry chefs nationwide. (4632/100000)

Shaping Technique (Beginner): You hardly style pastries at all. (673/1000)

Deep-frying Skills (Intermediate): Your fried dough sticks are quite good. (3333/10000)

Knife Skills (Beginner): At a home-cooking level. (103/1000)

Heat Control (Intermediate): Barely acceptable. (3222/10000)

Food Tasting (Advanced): You’re quite good at eating. (Non-upgradable)

Business Management (Intermediate): Decent at running a business, won’t lose money. (1179/10000)

Lying (Master): You can talk to anyone accordingly—perfectly adaptable. (24391/1000000)

Based on his current workload and progress rate, Qin Huai estimated his dough fermentation skill would reach the advanced level by the time Zheng Da returned.

Zheng Da would be back the day after tomorrow.

Although advanced dough fermentation wouldn’t directly help with learning crab roe siu mai, Qin Huai believed that his diligent training in heat control—and the unexpected leap in dough skills—would shock Zheng Da into full support, leading him to teach everything he knew and help Qin Huai complete the side quest.

“You’re progressing quite fast. A normal person with decent talent would need at least a month just to master stir-fried vegetables,” Zheng Siyuan remarked. “But you’re not starting from scratch, and your time here is short. Uncle Master probably wants you to learn systematically in a compressed timeframe.”

Qin Huai understood—he was essentially in an accelerated course.

The kind that teaches you all English skills in three days, or explains seven secrets of reading comprehension in five.

Qin Luo would really benefit from such a crash course.

“What have you been practicing recently?” Qin Huai asked.

These past few days, Qin Huai had been learning vegetable stir-frying in the kitchen with Huang Shengli every afternoon. His disciples often gathered to watch, but Zheng Siyuan was never among them.

In fact, Zheng Siyuan wasn’t even at Huang Ji most of the time.

After finishing his employee meal each day, he would disappear mysteriously.

“I’ve been practicing hand feel,” Zheng Siyuan said. “I haven’t handled sand for years, and I’ve completely lost the sensitivity needed for tossing techniques. Since I want to learn the large wok toss, I need to regain that feel first. So every afternoon, I go home and practice tossing sand.”

Qin Huai instantly felt a sense of respect.

He had assumed Zheng Siyuan had simply been exhausted from working at Yunzhong Cafeteria and returned to Suzhou to relax and slack off after work. He didn’t expect him to be quietly putting in effort to surprise everyone.

“Any results?” Qin Huai asked.

Zheng Siyuan: …

Do you think results come as easily as they do for you after a few days?

If cooking could be mastered in a few days, every chef here would be a grandmaster.

“I’ve gained a bit of a feel,” Zheng Siyuan said tactfully. “Even if I don’t ultimately master the large wok toss, practicing sand tossing helps strengthen hand control. It’s never a loss to build fundamentals.”

Qin Huai felt tempted.

“You don’t need to practice,” Zheng Siyuan cut him off. “You already have good strength control from… farming as a child.”

Even Zheng Siyuan found it absurd to say that farming helped develop strength control for a pastry chef.

“Do you want to stay a bit later this afternoon?” Qin Huai asked. Seeing Zheng Siyuan look at him, he quickly added, “I asked Master Huang yesterday—after a few days of therapy and rest, his back has recovered quite well.”

“Of course, he can’t return to normal full-duty work yet. Full recovery will take at least three more months of continued treatment and rest. But for daily activities and cooking at home-level intensity, it’s not a problem.”

Zheng Siyuan seemed to guess what Qin Huai had in mind.

“So yesterday I asked Master Huang if he could help prepare the filling for pastries today.”

“I’ve already gathered information. Although Huang Jia can perform large wok tossing, he’s only capable of it—not necessarily proficient. I showed him the recipe and told him the filling requires large wok tossing. He studied it for a few days and told me he might not achieve the effect I’m looking for.”

“He said he’s a Huaiyang cuisine chef, while large wok tossing is a Shandong technique, which he isn’t specialized in. He also said the person who wrote the recipe must be a Shandong chef—but I didn’t quite follow that, because if I remember correctly, that chef was actually a Sichuan cuisine chef.”

That was beyond Zheng Siyuan’s expertise—he was a pastry chef and didn’t fully understand hot-dish techniques.

“The key point is that Master Huang agreed yesterday. He’s also interested in studying these fillings with me.”

“With his help this afternoon, we should be able to produce results close to what the recipe theoretically describes. This is a rare opportunity—would you like to stay and study together?”

Qin Huai had originally come to Suzhou for this pastry.

Without a skilled hot-dish chef assisting him, it would be very difficult to achieve a B-rank result.

This pastry placed high demands on hot-dish technique.

And the game system’s criteria for determining whether a dish counted as Qin Huai’s creation were quite flexible. From his previous attempts, he concluded that if he completed at least half of the process—or the core steps—the system would consider the dish his.

This allowed for some opportunistic shortcuts. If one part was weak, external help could raise the overall quality—such as using Huang Jia’s stock for longevity noodles, or Huang Shengli’s filling for pastries.

However, this was not a sustainable long-term method.

Because the dishes requiring help were already high-level. Longevity noodles were A-rank—if Qin Huai’s noodle-making and cooking skills were only B-rank, even with A-rank stock, the final dish wouldn’t reach A-rank.

Only S-rank stock would change that—but making S-rank stock was extremely difficult.

Even someone like Huang Jia, already a highly skilled chef, likely couldn’t consistently produce S-rank stock. That level was probably only achievable by masters like Huang Shengli.

Such top-tier chefs assisting you? Not realistic.

Occasionally, maybe as mentorship or collaboration. But long-term, impossible.

So for sustained high-level results, Qin Huai knew he had to rely on himself.

But for a one-time task completion—

Using external help was still a viable option.

Time was running out for Luo Jun.

Bifang was already a 92-year-old elderly spirit who rarely left home. If Qin Huai didn’t complete the B-rank pastry side quest soon, he might end up inheriting everything.

Faced with the invitation, Zheng Siyuan immediately agreed.

He had been practicing large wok tossing precisely for this pastry, and now that he had the chance to witness success, he naturally wouldn’t miss it.

At 2 p.m., Huang Shengli arrived leisurely at Huang Ji.

Since starting physical therapy and with Qin Huai and Zheng Siyuan joining as pastry chefs, he no longer came during lunch hours.

Previously, he stayed in the kitchen because he was worried. And rightly so—when he stepped back, revenue dropped and customers decreased. High-end restaurants rely heavily on their signature chefs.

Now things were different. Lunch customers mostly came for pastries, while dinner was for main dishes. After nearly a week of stable pastry sales, customers had grown more confident.

Some even treated Huang Ji’s lunch like a breakfast stop, lining up for fermented rice buns and leaving immediately after.

Trusting Qin Huai and Zheng Siyuan’s abilities, Huang Shengli now only came in the evening.

Today, he arrived with a new teaching plan.

As a top instructor in Suzhou, Huang Shengli believed in tailored teaching. Stir-fried vegetables were basic, but shredded pork allowed more advanced techniques.

He entered the kitchen confidently and noticed Zheng Siyuan was present.

“Looks like you were waiting for me,” Huang Shengli said with a smile.

“Of course,” Qin Huai replied. “We’ve been hoping for your textbook-level demonstration.”

Huang Shengli rolled up his sleeves.

In the distance, Huang Anyao pulled over a stool and sat down.

“What’s that pastry?” he asked curiously.

“A type of meat-filled pastry,” Huang Jia explained. “It’s a recipe Qin Huai obtained from a customer. Although it’s a pastry, it places very high demands on the filling. Qin Huai and Zheng Siyuan have been researching it for nearly a month without much progress.”

“Sounds difficult,” Huang Anyao said, eyes lighting up. “It must be delicious.”

He became even more excited.

Huang Jia: …

You’re not concerned about your father’s back at all—you just care about eating.

But he said nothing.

Huang Shengli began cooking.

The filling process was familiar to Qin Huai and Zheng Siyuan—they had spent days doing exactly this before arriving in Suzhou.

The ingredients sizzled in the wok, the aroma spreading through the kitchen.

No seasoning was added at first, yet the natural fragrance of meat filled the air, accompanied by a subtle sweetness from carrots.

As the filling reached optimal doneness, the color, aroma, and heat were all perfect—practically textbook quality.

Then came the key step: the large wok toss.

At the critical moment, Huang Shengli acted. With coordinated force from his waist, arms, and wrists, the contents of the wok flipped 180 degrees. The ingredients that had been separate moments ago were now perfectly integrated.

A flawless toss.

After cooking and simmering, the filling reached its final state, rich with aroma.

Then Qin Huai and Zheng Siyuan began wrapping, shaping, and coloring the pastries.

The final step: steaming.

This determined the outcome.

Qin Huai stared intently at the steamer.

Soon, the results appeared:

[Apple-shaped Pastry B]
[Apple-shaped Pastry B-]
[Apple-shaped Pastry B+]

Success!

Huang Shengli is amazing!
External help is amazing!
Luo Jun’s quest is as good as completed!

Qin Huai immediately left, pretending to go to the bathroom—actually to make a phone call to Luo Jun and report the good news.

“Hello?” Luo Jun’s impatient voice came through.

“Good news—the apple-shaped pastry has reached B rank!”

Luo Jun paused.

“So what?” he replied flatly. “What’s the point of focusing on my side quest? Why don’t you complete Qu Jing’s quest instead? You’re not even at Yunzhong Cafeteria—have you forgotten about us?”

Qin Huai: …

Has Luo Jun started watching drama series instead of cultivation shows?

“Come on,” Qin Huai said. “I’m improving myself to better complete the task.”

“Back to business—this pastry was made with Master Huang’s filling. He can’t come to Yunzhong Cafeteria. Can you come to Suzhou so we can complete the quest?”

“No,” Luo Jun refused decisively. “If he can’t come to Yunzhong Cafeteria, do you expect me, at my age, to travel to Suzhou?”

Qin Huai: ?

“Really not coming?”

“Nope. Not going.”

Qin Huai knew Luo Jun’s stubborn personality—he wouldn’t lie about this.

“Then how about I prepare the base pastry and send it via courier?” Qin Huai suggested.

Luo Jun: …

“Are you determined to complete my quest no matter what?”

“You’d better not. If you send it via courier and I eat it to complete the quest, what if you stay in Suzhou and secretly view the memory?”

Qin Huai hesitated.

That was indeed a method, albeit inconvenient.

In the end, he decided it would be best to return to Mountain City.

“Alright,” Qin Huai said. “I’ll take leave and come back the day after tomorrow.”

Luo Jun hung up immediately.

It seemed he knew exactly what memory Qin Huai would see—and he didn’t want him to see it.

Qin Huai informed Chen Huihong of his plan to return to Yunzhong Cafeteria, asking her not to spread the word, since he wouldn’t have time to make pastries.

Chen Huihong replied:

OK.

Then added:

Could you bring back 40 jin of pastries? My brother and I really want some.

If possible, also some lard cakes, rice cakes, victory cakes, and fermented rice buns.

My brother really wants them.