AGN -Chapter 181 The Lie Beast (Part 4)

Three-ingredient buns!

Gong Liang didn’t react much, but Qin Huai’s eyes immediately widened.

Because Zheng Siyuan and Zheng Da had never made three-ingredient buns before, Qin Huai had never expected that he would actually see them appear in Gong Liang’s memories.

Thinking about it, though, it made sense. Three-ingredient buns and five-ingredient buns were specialty pastries from the Guangling area, and Guangling was very close to Gusu. It wasn’t surprising that Jing Lixiang would know how to make them.

In this era, three-ingredient buns were definitely considered a luxury.

Old hens raised for a year, pork belly ribs, and fresh tender bamboo shoots were all top-quality ingredients. Especially the first two—judging from Gong Liang’s expression when looking at the pork belly, they were definitely delicacies that ordinary families could only afford during the New Year.

Gong Liang’s home didn’t have a calendar, and the newspaper he read at work wasn’t the current day’s issue but a collection of papers accumulated over several months. Qin Huai wasn’t sure of the exact date.

However, Qin Huai remembered that last night, when Jing Lixiang persuaded Gong Liang to go home, he mentioned that it was late autumn—roughly mid-October to November. During this period, winter bamboo shoots were already on the market. In a sense, this wasn’t just a good time for crab roe siu mai, but also a good time for three-ingredient buns.

Jing Lixiang gave Gong Liang full freedom of choice, but at the same time, he selected the most suitable pastry to make based on Gong Liang’s decision. It was quite thoughtful.

Jing Lixiang made over twenty crab roe siu mai, but Gong Liang only ate five before stopping.

Seeing that Gong Liang wouldn’t eat any more, Jing Lixiang didn’t insist. He took out a lunchbox from the cabinet, packed six siu mai into it, and left the rest. He told Gong Liang to take the lunchbox home and bring it back the next afternoon.

Gong Liang didn’t refuse and quietly went home with the lunchbox.

When Gong Liang returned, his mother was helping his father wipe his body.

Caring for a sick person was a long, tedious, exhausting, and troublesome task. Gong Liang’s mother wouldn’t let him help, telling him she could handle it, and kept the door tightly shut so he couldn’t enter.

Gong Liang had no choice but to simmer medicine over a small stove. While waiting, he took out a notebook and pen and began writing in a thick journal.

Qin Huai leaned over to take a look and discovered that Gong Liang was writing down scripts and character analyses.

The handwriting was neat and elegant, the language concise and clear. It was evident that Gong Liang had performed well academically and practiced his handwriting.

This was Gong Liang’s work log.

It contained many character analyses and case studies. For example, the personality of a factory director, a deputy director, procurement staff, and leaders. Their preferences, schedules, speaking habits, integrity, past collaborations with other factories, and successful cases worth referencing.

This notebook continued until early in the year, when it abruptly stopped after a blanket factory in Modu.

For more than half a year, Gong Liang had not recorded anything in it.

Now, he took the notebook out again and resumed writing.

Qin Huai looked and found that Gong Liang was analyzing three different factories in Jinling: a garment factory, a bedding factory, and a small village-run handicraft workshop.

Gong Liang wrote in detail, without needing to refer to any materials. All the information was stored in his mind.

Qin Huai watched him write from day to night. During that time, his mother came and went busily but didn’t disturb him. She didn’t even know what he was doing; she believed that as long as he had something to do, it was a good thing. She didn’t even call him for meals, simply placing utensils beside him in silence.

After finishing his notes, Gong Liang ate, washed the dishes, tidied the room, and went to sleep.

The next day, he went to work as usual.

Section Chief Chen Kezhang again readily approved Gong Liang’s leave request. Seeing Gong Liang take two days off in a row made Liu Hai envious, and he also went to ask for leave—only to be scolded harshly by Chen Kezhang and sent back dejectedly, complaining about why he still had to work in the afternoon.

Then a middle-aged man from the next desk shot him down with a few words: “What are your performance results? What are Gong Liang’s results? What’s your situation? What’s his situation?”

Gong Liang ignored all of this. After finishing his meal, he headed to the state-run cafeteria.

Although there were no noodles, only ordinary dishes, the meals were still much better than those at the silk-weaving factory.

Steamed white rice, cabbage with meatballs, and tofu stewed with small fish.

The previous waiter wasn’t there. Instead, a young man of similar age to Gong Liang was at the front desk. He treated Gong Liang politely, smiling as he pointed toward the kitchen door, signaling him to go in.

Jing Lixiang was already prepared in the kitchen.

The dough had been proofed.

Seeing Gong Liang arrive, Jing Lixiang smiled and asked how his day had been.

This time, Gong Liang responded: “I spent the morning reading newspapers and researching a lot of materials.”

“Oh? What did you find?” Jing Lixiang seemed very interested.

“Many village-run factories have been established in Jinling in recent years,” Gong Liang said. “Although each has only dozens of workers, and many don’t even have machines—mostly producing simple handicrafts—the number is quite large.”

Jing Lixiang gestured for him to continue.

Gong Liang went on: “Some produce wooden items, some do rattan weaving, and others make simple toys. Their products are diverse and varied—they basically produce whatever the market needs.”

“I think they have great potential for silk products. Silk isn’t just for clothing, bedsheets, and curtains—it can also be used for fans, handicrafts, and toys. At last year’s expo, a silk factory secured a major export deal by selling silk to overseas Chinese in Nanyang for silk screens.”

“Previously, our factory also exported silk to factories in the East to make silk fans.”

“But these village-run factories don’t have the capital to place large orders for silk. I’ve also looked into your silk weaving factory’s situation. As far as I know, the inventory accumulated over the past two or three years is already so large that even clearance sales would incur losses.”

Gong Liang nodded. “But I want to try.”

“You said yesterday, Master Jing, that if you don’t try, how would you know?”

“If you try, there’s still hope. If you don’t, there’s none at all.”

Jing Lixiang smiled but said nothing, focusing on making the three-ingredient buns.

The conversation between the two was actually quite interesting, but Qin Huai barely paid attention.

His entire focus was on Jing Lixiang’s technique—seemingly distracted, chatting casually, yet his movements were seamless, flawless, and executed with masterful precision in making the buns.

First, Jing Lixiang’s knife skills were excellent.

As someone skilled in both hot and cold kitchen work, he had trained apprentices like Zheng Da, and inherited the culinary legacy of masters like Huang Shengli. Among pastry chefs, his knife skills were outstanding—sharp enough to “cut effortlessly with eyes closed.”

Qin Huai initially thought that making three-ingredient buns didn’t require much knife skill.

The fillings—chicken dice, pork dice, and bamboo shoot dice—only needed to be cut into cubes. The difficulty was low.

But Jing Lixiang said that while knife skills weren’t absolutely necessary, having them was a bonus.

Qin Huai also thought that heat control wasn’t very important for three-ingredient buns.

Jing Lixiang explained that while it wasn’t critical, excellent heat control could elevate the dish significantly.

A mediocre cook would produce an ordinary filling. A skilled cook, however, could create a filling so fragrant that people nearby would want to scoop a spoonful just by watching.

As for the dough—Qin Huai hadn’t seen the kneading process, but judging from the final product, it was flawless.

Crab roe siu mai, while not simple, didn’t fully showcase Jing Lixiang’s abilities. It focused more on seasoning, with limited scope for dough and heat techniques.

With the three-ingredient buns, Qin Huai saw Jing Lixiang’s full range of skills—so comprehensive it was almost omnipotent.

Qin Huai stood there in awe, wishing Gong Liang would move aside because he was standing too close and blocking the view.

Gong Liang, meanwhile, was still in a daze, likely thinking about how to secure orders and restart negotiations.

Qin Huai thought: Gong Liang, I hate how wooden you are!

This “wooden” man remained oblivious to how impressive Jing Lixiang truly was, quietly watching until the buns were steamed and their aroma filled the kitchen.

Only then did he snap back to reality and start swallowing saliva.

The smell was irresistible.

After two minutes of swallowing saliva, the buns were ready.

Steam filled the kitchen, but even that couldn’t hide Gong Liang’s eager gaze.

“Eat,” Jing Lixiang said with a smile.

Gong Liang immediately took a big bite—burning his mouth so badly he nearly danced in place.

He couldn’t bear to spit it out.

Not only that, he chewed hard, unable to swallow or spit it out easily.

It was a textbook example of how to eat a bun.

As Gong Liang chewed, Jing Lixiang asked, “What do you want to eat tomorrow?”

Gong Liang: !!!

Qin Huai: ??

Qin Huai thought: Wait, there’s more to eat? Enough already—first crab roe siu mai, now three-ingredient buns. If Gong Liang keeps eating like this, even I, just watching his memories, am getting jealous.

At this moment, the value of Gong Liang having eaten crab roe siu mai for a month increased even further.

After finishing the last bite, Gong Liang thought for a moment but couldn’t come up with anything.

From his blank expression, both Qin Huai and Jing Lixiang could tell he truly had no idea.

Lack of experience limited his imagination.

Jing Lixiang said, “If you can’t think of anything, I’ll choose.”

“Yesterday we had shrimp and crab, today we had chicken and pork—both savory. Tomorrow, let’s do something sweet.”

“How about a lucky-themed cake—like Ding Sheng Gao?”

Gong Liang could only nod repeatedly.

After eating two more buns, he stopped. Jing Lixiang packed two into a lunchbox for him to take home.

Gong Liang, having just washed the lunchbox the day before, now carried it back again.

But this time, instead of going straight home, he returned to the silk-weaving factory.

In the sales department, Section Chief Chen was unusually still in the office.

Seeing Gong Liang return, he was surprised.

“Xiao Gong, why are you back? Did you forget something?”

Gong Liang shook his head. “No, Section Chief. I have something I want to discuss with you.”

Outside in the hallway, Gong Liang said, “Section Chief, I still want to go on the Jinling business trip next week.”

Chen Kezhang was surprised. “The Jinling deal is basically impossible. We’re just going along for the ride. If you go, travel expenses might not be reimbursed anytime soon…”

Gong Liang interrupted: “I know the main factory’s deal won’t work. They’re not inclined toward us. I want to pursue smaller factories instead.”

He explained the information he had recorded the night before. Chen Kezhang listened carefully and nodded repeatedly.

Chen Kezhang supported him but poured some cold water on the idea: “These deals have potential, but the volumes are too small. Even if secured, they’re just a drop in the bucket.”

“Accumulation matters!” Gong Liang said firmly. “One or two is small, but ten or twenty add up. Even if they don’t solve the inventory problem, at least they’ll demonstrate the sales department’s capability.”

“I’m not reconciled,” Gong Liang gritted his teeth. “I’m not reconciled to missing this year’s expo.”

“My father is counting on the bonus from the expo deals to save his life. There’s still time. The final quota hasn’t been fixed, and higher-ups are still hesitating. Didn’t Deputy Factory Director Li say that if we secure Jinling First Factory’s deal, we can reclaim our quota?”

Chen Kezhang sighed deeply, thought for a long time, and finally made a decision with determination.

“Alright. You’ll still go to Jinling next week.”

“If you can’t secure the main factory’s deal, then at least get the smaller ones. I don’t expect twenty—if you can get ten, no, even eight, I’ll fight for you.”

“Even if we need to stay in Jinling a few extra days, I’ll cover the expenses if needed.”

“As long as you can close the deals, I’ll swallow my pride and go argue with Deputy Factory Director Li. He came from our sales department; he knows your ability—and I know his.”

“If you can land those orders, even if it means throwing a fit, he’ll have to go to the higher-ups and get our silk-weaving factory’s quota back!”

Qin Huai exited the memory.