AGN -Chapter 216 Master Chef Qin Huai Takes the Stage

January 3rd. Clear skies, light breeze.

As the last day of the New Year holiday, business at major restaurants, malls, and entertainment venues across the country is always better than usual.

Huang Ji Restaurant was no exception—it was busier than normal as well.

Qin Huai had gone to bed early the night before, hoping to adjust his schedule. Unfortunately, his biological clock didn’t cooperate. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t sleep in.

Compared to his previous routine of waking up at 4 a.m., his current schedule of starting work at 9:30 a.m. felt like living in a completely different time zone.

He woke up early with nothing to do, watched variety shows for over ten minutes but got bored, and had grown tired of the cheese sticks in the fridge. Craving something sweet, he figured he might as well make breakfast at home.

So he decided to make Four-Joy Tangyuan.

Hearing movement in the kitchen, Ou Yang came out of his room with messy “bird’s nest” hair. The moment he saw the pot of unshaped, mystery-box-style Four-Joy Tangyuan boiling away, his face turned green.

If anyone had eaten the most “hundred-fruit filling” Four-Joy Tangyuan recently, Ou Yang definitely had something to say about it.

Sure, the ones Qin Huai practiced in the restaurant kitchen during the day were shared among the fearless staff of Huang Ji—but the extra batches Qin Huai practiced at home at night? Most of those went straight into Ou Yang’s stomach.

Sometimes Ou Yang even felt that the special meals he got at the bone-setting clinic every night were basically Qin Huai’s compensation.

“Qin Huai… what flavor is this?” Ou Yang asked cautiously.

“Normal flavor. Shredded radish filling, not the hundred-fruit one,” Qin Huai said while stirring the pot. “You eating? How many bowls?”

Hearing that, Ou Yang immediately relaxed. “Two bowls!”

A few minutes later, the tangyuan were ready.

Qin Huai served himself a normal bowl, while Ou Yang filled a huge one. Both of them wisely chose not to eat immediately, instead chatting while letting the tangyuan cool.

“Huihui’s holiday starts the day after tomorrow, right?” Qin Huai asked. “Did you help Sister Hong rent her place?”

“Done,” Ou Yang said, holding a spoon and blowing on a tangyuan. “It’s in the building behind. She likes shopping, so I got her a three-bedroom apartment. The place is a bit old—the furniture’s all from 20 years ago—so we replaced everything with new stuff these past few days.”

“She finishes exams on the 5th, and Sister Hong arrives on the 6th.”

“Replacing furniture?” Qin Huai was surprised. “That must’ve cost a lot.”

“Yeah, quite a bit,” Ou Yang nodded. “I asked Mr. Gong next door—he recommended a full smart home setup. Sister Hong even wants to buy the place, but the owner’s not too willing to sell. They’re still negotiating.”

Qin Huai: …

Rich people’s way of renting really was confusing.

“So, you busy today?” Qin Huai asked again.

“Nope,” Ou Yang said while finally taking a bite—luckily, it was meat filling, no ‘tap dance’ required. “I was planning to eat at Huang Ji, but since you got famous from that magazine, there’s no way I’ll get a table. I’ve still got money my dad gave me, so I’ll go eat at Guanhelou instead.”

“Got plans in the afternoon?”

“No.”

“If it’s convenient, come to Huang Ji after lunch,” Qin Huai said. “Old Master Wang came to Gusu yesterday—you might not know—”

“I know,” Ou Yang interrupted, pulling out his phone and opening WeChat. He showed Qin Huai a pinned group chat.

[Residents Group of Yunzhong Community]

Qin Huai: ?

Since when did their community even have a group chat? And he didn’t know about it?

Opening the chat, he saw many familiar names—Xu Tuqiang, Old Master Wang, Old Master Qian, Granny Ding, Chen Huihong… everyone was discussing flights, hotels, and accommodations.

“Are they organizing a group trip?” Qin Huai asked.

“They’re organizing a group trip—to come here,” Ou Yang pointed at the phone. “Someone spread a rumor that Huang Ji’s boss took a liking to you, wants you to marry his daughter and inherit the restaurant, and that you’ll stay here as a live-in son-in-law instead of returning to Yunzhong Cafeteria.”

“I didn’t even know Huang Anyao had a sister,” Ou Yang added.

Qin Huai: …

Is that really the point?!

“So they’re coming all the way here because of that?” Qin Huai was stunned.

He realized once again that he truly didn’t understand the residents of Yunzhong Community—no wonder he wasn’t even in that group chat.

“Maybe they also want to travel a bit,” Ou Yang shrugged. “Gusu’s nice. Didn’t Sister Hong come here for fun too?”

Qin Huai was briefly convinced, then suddenly remembered what he wanted to say and steered the topic back.

“Anyway, yesterday Old Master Wang lined up at Huang Ji and ran into Qu Jing. Recently the restaurant’s been so busy she felt embarrassed to ask for special treatment, so she only comes on her days off to queue secretly.”

“Since we’re launching new pastries today—and she hasn’t tried Four-Joy Tangyuan—come by after lunch and deliver some to her. You know her hospital address, right?”

“Yeah,” Ou Yang nodded, then asked, “Are the tangyuan you’re giving her… normal ones?”

Qin Huai: “…I can make normal hundred-fruit tangyuan!”

After breakfast, Qin Huai watched TV for another half hour before heading to Huang Ji.

Working this late felt strangely unfamiliar.

But the moment he stepped out of the residential complex, he was stunned by the sight in front of him.

His apartment was right across from Huang Ji—just a 5-minute walk.

But now…

The queue had extended into neighboring residential areas.

And it was only 9:30 a.m.—the restaurant hadn’t even opened yet.

Yesterday at least the line spilled over after opening hours!

Walking carefully toward the restaurant, Qin Huai saw that although queue barriers were set up, the crowd had far exceeded them.

At the very front were seven or eight college students traveling together—clearly experienced.

They had suitcases (some even sitting on them), folding stools, gloves, hats, hand warmers, and even brought water and fruit to share with less-prepared people behind them.

Qin Huai quietly slipped in through the back door, changed, and entered the kitchen.

Inside, everyone was working at full speed. Even Zheng Da had put on a uniform and was kneading dough like his life depended on it.

“Chef Qin!” a chef from Zhiweiju greeted him. “Had breakfast?”

“Yeah, made some tangyuan at home,” Qin Huai nodded, glancing at the pastries in the warming box—Ruyi Rolls, Four-Joy Dumplings, and radish cakes.

These were clearly prepared specially for him.

He added, “But I’m not completely full. I can eat a bit more.”

The nearby chef quickly brought them over.

Qin Huai tasted each one, giving precise feedback:

Four-Joy Dumplings: “The ingredients are fine, but the proportions are off. Also, scallions don’t belong here.”

Radish Cake: “Too soft. Poor frying technique—work on basics.”

Ruyi Roll: No comment needed. The maker, Gu Li, had solid fundamentals—he just needed more practice in technique.

After eating, Qin Huai asked about the massive queue outside.

Dong Shi explained the system:

9:40 a.m.: offline queue numbers distributed

10:10 a.m.: online reservations open

Some tables reserved for online customers

Large tables used for group seating or shared seating

Understanding the pressure, Qin Huai returned to work.

Making Guo’er pastries required skill—kneading, shaping, and coloring couldn’t be rushed. Even making them look “ugly” required technique.

The kitchen buzzed with activity:

Huang Shengli stir-frying fillings energetically

Zheng Da pushing himself to make fermented rice buns

Zheng Siyuan reluctantly making San Ding buns

Compared to everyone else, Qin Huai seemed almost relaxed—because he had to do everything himself. No one else could assist much.

When orders started coming in, the machine beeped.

Business had officially begun.

As Qin Huai focused on shaping pastries, Huang Shengli walked up and patted him.

“Xiao Qin, want to go take a look outside?”

“Huh?”

“Over 90% of the customers out there came just for you,” Huang Shengli said with a smile. “Don’t you want to see their reactions when they taste your signature pastries for the first time?”

Qin Huai was tempted.

“Trust me,” Huang Shengli added, “a customer’s honest reaction is the greatest praise a chef can receive.”

“When I first became a head chef at a state-owned restaurant, my favorite thing was secretly watching customers eat.”