AGN -Chapter 184 Eating

The old men and women in the cafeteria could stubbornly say they weren’t hungry, but Qin Huai still had to continue preparing the pastries.

Ever since Qin Huai’s dough-making skill had been upgraded to an advanced level, not only had his practice speed not decreased—it had actually increased.

The quality of the dough usually plays a decisive role in the final quality of pastries. Dishes like crab roe siu mai, which rely heavily on filling technique, are rare extremes. Items like three-ding buns, which require the comprehensive development of multiple skills, are the norm.

While Qin Huai was kneading the dough for crab shell pastries, Pei Xing was quietly observing from the side. For some reason, he felt that Qin Huai’s dough-kneading state today looked very normal. But during the earlier kneading, it seemed like he had mastered some mysterious technique—not only were his movements more elaborate, but the quality of the dough also seemed better.

Pei Xing and Li Hua worked very efficiently, quickly preparing all the ingredients Qin Huai needed. Qin Huai skillfully mixed and cooked the fillings, and the aroma of meat began to spread throughout the kitchen, drifting all the way into the dining hall.

A very fragrant meat aroma.

To make an imperfect analogy, children who have seen their elders cook pig feed using sweet potatoes and various vegetables know that when the large pot of pig feed reaches a certain stage and is stirred, it actually smells quite good. Even though you know it’s pig feed, you still can’t help wanting to taste it.

Many diners in the hall felt the urge to sneak into the kitchen and have a taste.

Qin Congwen, who hadn’t eaten any of the buns he made himself and had been up since around 3 a.m., sniffed deeply, intoxicated, and whispered, “Why does the filling my son is making today smell so good?”

Zhao Rong glanced at her husband with some disdain, but honestly replied, “It does smell really good. Maybe it’s because it’s been a long time since we last had it.”

By the way, Zhao Rong had also been hungry since 3 a.m.

An Youyou said nothing, silently inhaling the aroma.

Among the helpers at Yunzong Cafeteria, she was the only one with a name and had been highly valued by Zhao Rong and Qin Congwen during this period.

After hiring new helpers, physically demanding, low-skill tasks like washing vegetables, moving ingredients, cleaning machines, and mixing fillings were no longer her responsibility. Now she mainly handled cutting and prep work, wrapping buns and dumplings, and occasionally kneading dough when Qin Congwen was busy and Chen An couldn’t keep up.

Rather than a helper, she had become more like an apprentice—a proper apprentice who could actually learn skills.

The aroma of the filling that made everyone intoxicated, however, felt rather ordinary to Qin Huai.

No helping it—he had smelled even better ones yesterday.

The filling he was making now only made people want to try a bite. The effect was better when hungry.

The filling Jiang Weijin made could make people immediately want three big bowls just to start with—whatever it was, as long as it tasted good.

Qin Huai’s heat control was only average.

Compared to before, it had improved, but it was still at an intermediate level.

Pei Xing and Li Hua could also tell his heat control wasn’t exceptional, but they didn’t think much of it. Every pastry chef has strengths and weaknesses; having both strengths and shortcomings is normal. A “perfect hexagon warrior” simply isn’t human.

Soon, the filling was finished.

After letting it cool slightly, Qin Huai began wrapping buns.

After wrapping a few, he realized this kind of task didn’t need to be done by him as the head chef—helpers could handle it.

During his time at Huang Ji, he had developed the habit that in a professional kitchen, the head chef has head chef duties, and helpers have helper duties. As a head chef, you must know how to do everything, but not necessarily do everything yourself.

Making pastries is a long and tedious process. If the head chef had to personally handle every step, the output would be extremely limited.

“An Youyou,” Qin Huai called, waving her over, “Got time? Come help me wrap buns.”

“Coming, boss!” An Youyou cheerfully put down the dumplings she was working on, washed her hands, dried them, and quickly ran over to Qin Huai’s workstation.

Qin Huai began preparing the filling for crab shell pastries.

Today he planned to make shrimp-filled crab shell pastries. After making a lot of crab roe siu mai recently, shrimp fillings felt very familiar and easy to handle.

While mixing the filling, Qin Huai also watched An Youyou wrapping buns from the corner of his eye. As a helper, her wrapping technique was quite good—fast, efficient, and most importantly, consistent in quality. Each bun was roughly the same size.

That was important, since buns at Yunzong Cafeteria were sold per piece. Size discrepancies could cause disputes.

“An Youyou, what time do you start work every day?” Qin Huai asked.

“3 a.m.,” An Youyou replied cheerfully. “I moved again. Sister Xi helped me find a very cheap shared apartment near her neighborhood. There’s a shared kitchen, and each room has a balcony for drying clothes. It’s really nice. Most importantly, it’s closer to the cafeteria, so I can sleep an extra half hour!”

Hearing this, Qin Huai paused. He didn’t have much impression of An Youyou beyond recalling that she had changed apartments before—and now again, which seemed frequent.

“Did your previous place not have a balcony?” he asked casually.

“No. I had to hang clothes indoors, and since there wasn’t much ventilation, they would smell moldy,” An Youyou said while wrapping buns. “But that place was already much better than where I lived at first.”

Qin Huai: ?

“Where did you live at first?” he asked.

“At first, I shared a place with someone from my hometown,” An Youyou said. “My aunt introduced it. She slept on the bed, and I slept on the floor. Rent was only 150 yuan a month.”

“Even though it was cheap, sleeping on the floor was inconvenient. My suitcase was right at my feet, and if I turned over, my head would hit the wall. But it was summer, so sleeping on the floor was cool, and the fan didn’t blow on me much.”

Qin Huai was already stunned.

He suddenly felt that he wasn’t the one who came from the welfare home—An Youyou was.

Even in their Three Street Children’s Welfare Home, the kids had beds even during the poorest times.

“So I think the place Sister Xi found for me is really good,” An Youyou continued. “Rent is a bit expensive at 2000 a month, but the bed is big—a double bed. It’s soft, has a balcony, air conditioning, a wardrobe, a private bathroom, and even space for a desk.”

“Last month my salary plus bonuses totaled nearly 8000 yuan. Now I’m learning dough kneading and filling from Chef Chen. Chef Qin said I’ll likely be able to become a breakfast chef by mid next year, which would increase my monthly income by another 3000 yuan.”

“At that point, I’ll spend all my savings. I want to rent a place with an elevator, get a new phone, maybe a computer. If I can’t afford a computer, I’ll get a tablet. In summer I can buy dresses—I’ve never worn high heels before, I want those too.”

“And lipstick, and a yogurt maker, so I can have cheap yogurt every day!” She got more and more excited, as if she could immediately get promoted, save money, and then spend it all at once.

Qin Huai couldn’t help but smile.

He had always thought An Youyou was the type who lived a frugal, hardship-focused life. He didn’t expect she actually dreamed of becoming wealthier and shopping freely like a modern city girl.

As expected, people who like spending money also like making money.

“Then keep learning from Chen An. I’ll teach you all when I have time after the New Year,” Qin Huai said.

After the buns were steamed, the customers in the hall became excited.

They had waited so long, and the aroma of the filling had already made them extremely hungry.

Fortunately, they didn’t have to wait much longer.

The buns were ready quickly.

When Qin Luo ran downstairs holding her notebook at exactly the right time, the three-ding buns were out of the steamer.

【Three-Ding Bun — B Grade】

A B-grade three-ding bun.

While not astonishing, since Qin Huai had previously made A-grade pastries with Huang Shengli’s help, B-grade items are still widely popular wherever they appear.

The buns that once made Huang Ji famous and had delivery riders rushing across the city were also B-grade.

But those had buffs.

Three-ding buns are meat-filled.

Each has its own strengths.

Qin Luo had already changed and was squatting by the steamer, eager to eat immediately—but Qin Huai stopped her.

He didn’t allow her to eat piping hot food directly.

Qin Luo looked longingly at the buns.

The diners in line looked longingly as well.

“Alright,” Qin Huai said.

The next second, many people moved.

Qin Luo happily grabbed a bun, took a big bite, and narrowed her eyes in bliss, making muffled sounds as she chewed. She swallowed quickly, stuffed the remaining half into her mouth, and mumbled, “Brother, it’s delicious!”

Simple words—the highest praise.

In praising food, silence is the greatest compliment.

Soon, the first batch of buns sold out.

The cafeteria quickly fell into a frenzy of eating.

Everyone was devouring buns, including chefs, helpers, and servers. They were all immersed in the ocean of buns, unwilling to stop.

The first batch was quickly gone.

“Burp.”

Qin Luo leaned back in her chair, satisfied for the first time to the point of not wanting any more.

She felt like it was New Year’s.

No—this was better than New Year.

In the kitchen, Qin Huai bit into a bun and still wasn’t fully satisfied with the quality of the crab shell pastries he had made earlier. He didn’t understand why Ou Yang liked eating tree-bark buns so much despite having tasted so many good things.

Does Ou Yang even have a sense of taste?

…Maybe he should just give him all the remaining tree-bark ingredients.

Qin Huai stretched his shoulders and arms.

No massage at the bone-setting shop next door after work—feels a bit unusual.

He opened his phone and made a note:

Good. His dough, seasoning, and fillings had all improved significantly. These pastries were now more comfortable to make.

He marked three-ding buns as a key item.

This is a good pastry.

Balanced in seasoning, dough, and heat control—worth practicing more.

He also marked “Dream Bun” as key.

Heat control was still a weak point—he should make more of these to train it.

Satisfied, Qin Huai put away his phone and walked out, noticing Qin Luo still sitting there, a mix of guilt, excitement, joy, and regret on her face.

Qin Huai: ?

“Brother!” Qin Luo suddenly jumped up emotionally when she saw him and said sincerely, “You’re so good to me. I’ll never say bad things about you behind your back again. I deserve to die!”

Qin Huai: “…You said bad things about me?”

He checked his phone notes:

“You still owe me 8617 yuan and 20 cents. Your New Year’s money will all go toward repaying the debt.”