AGN -Chapter 174 Little Master Qin Is Back!

Qin Huai’s vacation went very smoothly, with basically no disturbances at all.

As a well-known high-end restaurant, Huang Ji not only had high prices but also had excellent service over the years.

For example, when Huang Shengli was still working normally, if he happened to be on leave and a customer ordered one of his signature dishes—like the famous sizzling eel paste—the waiter would inform the customer that the head chef was off that day, and the dish would be prepared by Huang Jia or another stove chef.

Of course, this reminder was only given for Huang Shengli’s signature dishes, since those dishes at Huang Ji were priced far above the rest.

Later, when Huang Shengli began to have back problems and needed more frequent rest, Huang Ji redesigned its menu. Regular customers referred to these as the A menu and B menu.

The A menu was used when Huang Shengli was present, with full prices. The B menu was used when he was absent, and the prices of his signature dishes would be significantly reduced.

After the menu change, regular customers no longer needed to ask the waiter whether Huang Shengli’s back was acting up that day—they could tell just by looking at the menu.

Of course, the B menu didn’t mean Huang Shengli would never randomly appear. Sometimes he would feel inspired and cook a few dishes himself, giving customers who happened to eat them the surprise of opening a blind box and pulling a limited edition.

With such a head chef who occasionally took leave, the regular customers were very accepting of Qin Huai’s six-day vacation.

Among all the chefs at Huang Ji, Qin Huai had the most stable customer base.

He was a white pastry chef, selling dim sum. His most famous, best-reviewed, and most widely recognized item was the relatively inexpensive fermented rice buns.

An 18-yuan fermented rice bun would be considered outrageously expensive at an ordinary breakfast shop. But at Huang Ji, combined with its taste, the price was acceptable.

Qin Huai’s pastries were only sold during lunchtime, and many customers bought them as breakfast.

Those with ample budgets even ate them every day; if they didn’t have time, they would send runners to queue up. Except for baked items like crab shell pastries and Yuanmeng sesame cakes—which are best eaten fresh out of the oven—the rest could be taken away or delivered without much loss in taste.

When Huang Ji announced that “Little Master Qin” would take all his remaining leave for the month and the previous month at once—six consecutive days off—many customers even quietly felt relieved.

Regulars, especially nearby residents, knew that chefs at Huang Ji had four days off per month, and these days were not fixed.

Everyone arranged their precious time off differently. Some preferred one day off per week for balance; some preferred taking all their leave at the beginning of the month to enjoy a long break; some saved it for before or after holidays to visit family without affecting peak business.

The most common approach was to take time off as needed—blind dates, dates, travel, attending events, or binge-watching an entire month’s worth of shows in two days…

This kind of schedule was the most random and unpredictable.

Restaurants generally would not notify customers about a chef’s day off, let alone make public announcements.

But Qin Huai was different. He was a rare and valuable white chef with his own signature pastries.

His vacations affected many people’s hearts.

Previously, Qin Huai hadn’t taken a single day off for over a month, leading many regulars to guess that he was saving up leave for one long break. Now that the guess was confirmed, everyone felt a weight lifted from their hearts—they no longer had to worry about showing up at Huang Ji at noon and not being able to buy buns.

Faced with Little Master Qin’s vacation, nearby residents were very accepting. Some well-informed customers even heard that his six-day break was to visit his family, so they brought gifts to Huang Ji and asked the staff to pass them to him.

Little Master Qin had been working tirelessly making pastries for over a month without rest; he likely didn’t have time to go shopping or travel, and wasn’t familiar with local specialties.

As customers who enjoyed his food, they should think of him and prepare meaningful souvenirs so he could bring them home and show his family that Suzhou had its charms.

The customers were very kind, and the working environment was good—no need to worry.

“Go back for six days and come back, alright? Just in time for New Year’s Day after you return, and soon after that it’ll be the Spring Festival. Everyone’s waiting for Little Master Qin to show his skills during the New Year.”

Every year during the Spring Festival, Huang Ji would offer special New Year’s Eve banquet menus. The “three-head banquet,” usually limited to wedding banquets, would also be included.

It could be said that many residents in the nearby old neighborhoods had children working hard locally or elsewhere all year, saving money just to come home for the holidays and book the highest-tier banquet so the whole family could enjoy a proper meal together.

Suzhou already had a strong tradition of pastries, and during the New Year it was even more so—rice cakes, glutinous rice cakes, and eight-treasure rice were essential in every household. Any pastry restaurant would launch festive gift boxes, making them beautifully presented and celebratory.

In recent years, Huang Ji had no pastry chef, so it did not sell New Year gift boxes.

But now it did.

Although it was only December, many people had already begun anticipating what this year’s pastry gift boxes would be like.

Qin Huai, however, had no idea that people were already looking forward to them. He didn’t even know that pastry gift boxes could be sold at a premium during the New Year.

In previous years, the Qin family breakfast shop did not operate during the holidays.

They would open on the morning of New Year’s Eve for the final day of breakfast, and by 9 a.m., regardless of whether everything was sold out, they would close up, clean the house, and head back to their hometown with luggage and New Year goods.

Qin Huai’s grandparents had only two children—Qin Congwen and Qin Xiuli—which was considered a small family for their generation. Qin Congwen had only Qin Huai (adopted) and Qin Luo (biological daughter), while Qin Xiuli had only one son, He Cheng.

Although Qin Xiuli was married out, her husband He Ye came from a nearby village. Every year during the Spring Festival, Qin Xiuli worried that her parents would feel lonely due to the small family size, so she often brought her husband and children back to Qin family village, sometimes staying until 5 or 6 p.m. on New Year’s Eve before returning.

Her in-laws and extended family strongly supported this behavior and even wished they could join.

A family of three had limited capacity to carry gifts; the amount they could bring back was small, and He Cheng would often walk slowly while snacking along the way.

If not for practical constraints and the awkwardness of appearances, they would have suggested celebrating the New Year together.

Though surnames differed, they were all family—what’s the harm in sharing a New Year’s Eve dinner together?

As for Qin Huai, he never felt that the Qin family was small.

There weren’t many direct relatives, but there were many extended ones.

And they were very enthusiastic—on New Year’s Eve, they would visit with large bags of gifts, never empty-handed. Not returning the gesture with pastries would be impolite.

By New Year’s Day, the old family home was so crowded that there wasn’t enough room inside; people had to bring chairs outside into the courtyard. Even then, the gifts filled entire rooms.

Every year during the New Year, Qin Huai stayed in the kitchen from New Year’s Eve until the Lantern Festival, steaming pastries so much that people far away would think the Qin household was on fire.

That was why, even though Qin Huai had been working at Huang Ji for a month straight—preparing breakfast daily, working mornings and afternoons, and doing extra practice in the evenings—he still felt the workload wasn’t enough.

Because he had experienced even more intense work before.

This level of intensity now felt like a warm-up for the New Year.

Sitting on the plane, Qin Huai suddenly found himself thinking about the New Year, even though it was still nearly two months away.

Perhaps it was because he hadn’t made pastries for Qin Luo in a long time.

Thinking carefully, this was probably the first time since Qin Luo could eat pastries that she had gone more than a month without eating anything made by him.

Truly, she had suffered.

Qin Huai glanced at his phone memo, which listed the pastries he planned to make for Qin Luo.

Her recent exams had gone fairly well—she improved from 12th from the bottom in the class to 17th from the bottom. A noticeable improvement, worthy of a proper reward.

Excluding the two days of travel, she would have four days to enjoy crab roe siu mai, fermented rice buns, five-spice buns, locust flower buns, Yuanmeng sesame cakes, crab shell pastries, lard rice cakes, assorted rice cakes, glutinous rice cakes, jujube yam cakes, apple-shaped pastries, and more.

He couldn’t make B-grade fruit pastries alone, so he brought prepared raw batches to steam for her after returning.

For rice cakes and lard rice cakes, those were dishes he learned at Huang Ji to broaden his skills—considered newly learned, and passable for her to try.

His flight landed at 2:27 p.m.

This time he didn’t ask Chen Huihong to pick him up, since he didn’t bring the 80 jin of crispy pastries she had requested—Zheng Siyuan simply refused to make that many.

Qin Huai only brought 20 jin.

Well, the real reason Chen Huihong couldn’t pick him up was because it was Saturday. She had to attend a parent-teacher meeting for Chen Huihui in the morning, and had plans in the afternoon to take the children to the zoo with other parents.

She arranged for Chen Yingjun to send a driver instead.

She sent Qin Huai the driver’s photo and license plate, telling him the driver would be waiting at the pickup area.

Qin Huai didn’t have much experience being picked up, and was a bit nervous at first—but as soon as he stepped out of the exit, he wasn’t nervous anymore.

A familiar figure rushed toward him like a cannonball, nearly knocking him off balance.

After more than a month apart, Qin Luo seemed to have grown a bit taller.

“Brother! You’re finally back! I thought you were going to stay in Suzhou and not come back! Do you know how much I missed you? Do you know what I’ve been eating every morning? Look at me—I’ve lost weight!!”

Qin Luo pointed at her chin.

Qin Huai couldn’t tell.

“Did you buy the crabs?” Qin Huai asked.

Qin Luo nodded repeatedly. “Bought them! A lot! The day you called Dad, he had Sister Xi arrange it. We bought a huge batch—they’re living in a water tank, crawling everywhere.”

“I heard from Sister Xi that the crabs aren’t as fat as before and won’t be in season much longer. You should’ve come back earlier,” Qin Luo pouted, looking aggrieved.

“You never liked crabs anyway—you used to feel like throwing up at the smell. I didn’t even know if you could eat crab roe siu mai. If you ate one and threw up, I’d be worried it would ruin my reputation,” Qin Huai laughed, then quickly soothed her when she looked unconvinced.

“Don’t worry, I’ve seen your exam results these past two months. You did really well. Our Luo Luo has worked hard—you deserve a good reward.”

“I’ve got half a suitcase of pastry raw batches here, plus crispy pastries, ding-sheng cakes, and fresh meat mooncakes made by your Brother Siyuan. We’ll steam and bake them for you when we get back.”

“Have you eaten today?”

“I had a grilled chicken leg,” Qin Luo answered honestly.

Qin Huai understood—she had eaten a chicken leg as an appetizer, waiting for him to return and cook something good.

“Then let’s go back and have some crispy pastries first to fill you up. Tell me what you want to eat—I’ll make it when we get home.”

“These few days, I’ll let you eat your fill!”

Qin Luo had been trying to stay composed, pretending she wasn’t the kind of sister who could be won over by such trivial temptations—but upon hearing his last sentence, she couldn’t hold it in and burst into a grin, showing her molars.

She couldn’t resist at all.

In fact, she even regretted having eaten that grilled chicken leg earlier.

Ah, why eat chicken legs? If she had known there would be unlimited pastries and even custom orders, she shouldn’t have eaten anything since yesterday!

Happily, Qin Luo helped Qin Huai with his luggage.

“By the way, why did you come to pick me up?” Qin Huai asked as they walked out.

Their driver was already waiting outside.

Qin Luo looked around for the car while replying, “Mom said I’ve been too restless at the cafeteria all morning, pacing around and being annoying, so she sent me to pick you up to make sure you wouldn’t have trouble finding the driver Uncle Chen arranged.”

Qin Huai took a few seconds to realize that the “Uncle Chen” she mentioned was Chen Yingjun.

He called Chen Huihong “Sister,” Chen Huihui called him “Brother Qin Huai,” and his sister called Chen Huihong’s younger brother “Uncle Chen.”

Alright then—everyone addressed each other differently as they pleased.

Soon, Qin Luo led Qin Huai to the car. The driver arranged by Chen Yingjun was a plain-looking middle-aged man who drove silently the entire time. Qin Huai and Qin Luo chatted freely in the back seat.

“How’s business been at the cafeteria while I was gone?” Qin Luo asked.

“Pretty good—everything sells out,” Qin Huai replied. Qin Luo, being busy with school, didn’t have a precise sense of the cafeteria’s performance. “We hired two more general staff due to manpower shortages, and added some kitchen helpers, though I’m not very familiar with them.”

Qin Huai was aware of the new hires. Huang Xi had informed him, and he had agreed.

During this month, although Qin Huai wasn’t at Yunzhong Cafeteria, he had previously recruited two pastry chefs of decent skill—both at restaurant level.

With chefs of that caliber, they were more than capable of handling a community cafeteria. While regular customers had some complaints (after all, the quality was far below Qin Huai’s), they had no choice, and compared to other places, the pastries here were still better.

People could only sigh and ask when Little Master Qin would return, while still coming daily.

With experienced chefs like Li Hua and Pei Xing, efficiency improved further after staffing was completed. Over the past month, revenue not only didn’t decline but increased instead.

From a business perspective, the cafeteria was thriving.

From the customers’ perspective, however—they were starving for Qin Huai’s return.

Old residents at Yunzhong Cafeteria would sit and chat, but their conversations had turned into longing rather than casual talk.

Everyone had been waiting eagerly for Qin Huai to come back.

If he didn’t return soon, they might forget what it felt like to eat five-spice buns and fermented rice buns every morning.

Back when they ate them daily, they didn’t think much of it. Only after losing them did they realize their value.

Not only the elderly residents, but office workers nearby missed him as well.

They had once hesitated over the price of three-ingredient and five-ingredient buns, but now there was nothing to hesitate about—because they simply couldn’t buy them anymore.

After a morning of work, they would instinctively open their phones to order citrus peel tea, only to realize it wasn’t available either.

At that point, they didn’t even feel like working.

Many office workers couldn’t imagine how they had survived without those breakfasts before.

At 3:59 p.m., a black sedan stopped in front of Yunzhong Cafeteria.

The elderly customers inside glanced outside absentmindedly, then went back to their nostalgic conversations.

Then the car door opened.

Qin Luo stepped out.

Seated by the window, Xu Tuqiang said, “Luo Luo’s back from her outing? That was quick.”

Then he suddenly widened his eyes, rubbed them in disbelief, and looked again.

It wasn’t until Qin Huai walked to the trunk and took out his luggage that Xu Tuqiang dared to believe what he was seeing. He stood up and shouted excitedly:

“Little Master Qin is back!”

“Oh my god, Little Master Qin is back!!!”

In an instant, the entire cafeteria erupted. Those not by the windows rushed toward the doors or windows, stretching their necks and peering outside.

Seeing that familiar face, tears welled up in their eyes.

It was Qin Huai—he really was back!

Two minutes later, photos of Qin Huai taking his luggage from the trunk spread across the Yunzhong community group chats and the cafeteria’s group orders chat.

That day, all the customers at Yunzhong Cafeteria spread the word.

Little Master Qin is back—there will be breakfast tomorrow!

“My wallet, what are you waiting for? I’ll take ten five-ingredient buns—tomorrow, no excuses!”