AGN -Chapter 231 If You’re Going to Chat, Don’t Point the Camera at the Food

Qu Jing was, without a doubt, a person of action.

That very night, she added Director Qin on WeChat and contacted her, saying she wanted to donate 370,000 yuan to Sanmalu Children’s Welfare Institute.

Director Qin, who had never fought such a “well-funded battle” before, was completely stunned by this sudden windfall. Unable to hold back, she immediately called Qin Huai.

“Huaihuai…” Director Qin’s voice was full of hesitation. “Weren’t you in Shanshi inheriting an estate? How did you meet so many kind-hearted people in such a short time?”

“You didn’t go there to run a scam, did you?”

“Huaihuai, listen to me—you’re still young. Don’t go down the wrong path for money. Even if scam money is donated, it’ll still be traced back!”

Qin Huai, who was already lying in bed preparing to sleep: …

“Mom Qin, don’t overthink it. They’re all friends I’ve met—very kind people. They heard our Sanmalu Children’s Welfare Institute isn’t in great condition and wanted to donate some money to help the kids. Don’t overthink it—just accept it,” Qin Huai said.

Director Qin was briefly convinced. “Then should our welfare institute make some handmade gifts and write a thank-you letter? Didn’t you draw pictures for donors when you were little? It’s a pity the address was wrong and the drawings got returned. I’ve kept all those things for you.”

Qin Huai: “…Whatever makes you happy.”

This Spring Festival, he must go back to Sanmalu Children’s Welfare Institute and steal that cursed drawing!

January 6th, Sunny

Chen Huihong really wanted to rush straight from the high-speed rail station to Huang Ji for lunch, dragging her suitcase along—but circumstances didn’t allow it.

Chen Huihui was still young. After traveling by plane and then high-speed rail, she needed rest.

Although Ou Yang had already rented a place and even installed new smart home systems, there were always small things you only notice after moving in.

Since they couldn’t make lunch, Chen Huihong asked Qin Huai to book a dinner table at Huang Ji. She specifically chose the latest time—around Huihui’s bedtime—so she could leave her daughter at home and meet Qin Huai and Qu Jing for dinner.

Huang Ji’s kitchen stopped taking orders at 10 p.m. The table Qin Huai reserved—Table 19—only became available at 9:30. Chen Huihong and Qu Jing had already been lining up outside in the cold wind since 9, blending into the crowd and pretending they had queued normally for the last batch of seats before successfully getting in.

Qin Huai was already waiting at Table 19.

For this meal, he had worked overtime—despite originally getting off at 8:30—making another batch of pastries and cooking Qu Jing’s favorite rice cake soup. He hadn’t even eaten his staff meal yet, and now he sat staring at the steaming bowl in front of him, so hungry he felt like biting someone.

They couldn’t start eating until everyone arrived.

Table 19 had a nice location by the window, where they could enjoy the view while eating.

At this hour, though, there wasn’t much of a view—just stubborn customers still waiting outside, hoping their numbers might be called.

“Luo Jun, look at this—Huang Ji’s business is booming. Even in this cold late at night, people are still lining up outside. Didn’t you hear those girls just now? Someone came at 2 or 3 a.m. to queue, waited until morning to get a number, and scalpers are selling private room reservations for 1,000 yuan per person!”

“The food must be amazing.”

“Stop staying cooped up in your neighborhood all day. The older you get, the more you need to go out. Jingjing and I are already in Gusu, and Xiao Qin came even earlier—you’re falling behind.”

“Food delivered across provinces can’t compare to eating it fresh here. Oh, rice cake soup—I’ll chat with Luo Jun a bit more. Xiao Qin, Jingjing, you two start eating first. See? Hot dishes are best eaten on the spot!”

Chen Huihong directly pointed her phone camera at Qin Huai’s rice cake soup.

Qin Huai: …

You social terrorists are truly terrifying.

“Rice cake soup!” Qu Jing’s eyes lit up. She quickly sat down, picked up a spoon, and started eating. After swallowing a mouthful, she said with satisfaction, “Better than last time.”

“But I still prefer last time’s.”

Qin Huai: …

He glanced at the soup.

[Rice Cake Soup – Grade C]

After awakening, do all you spirits like to completely let yourselves go in front of your own kind?

Qin Huai wasn’t as skilled at making rice cakes as Zheng Siyuan, and his soup-making was even more average, so the result was mediocre.

But perhaps because his disastrous E-grade soup from two days ago had traumatized everyone in the kitchen, when he made a normal batch yesterday, everyone breathed a sigh of relief. Seeing the pot bubbling normally instead of looking like a witch’s brew almost brought Huang Anyao to tears—he even snapped three photos and posted them on social media.

Caption: Master Qin is so hardworking—practicing rice cake soup after work!

Gong Liang liked and commented first, even sending a private message asking if it was worth risking eating another bowl despite already being 90% full.

His assistant had already come to pick up some soup. Tonight, Gong Liang and Guo Mingzhu would likely both be too full to sleep.

Chen Huihong set her phone on the table, adjusting the angle so Luo Jun could see both her and Qin Huai.

As for Qu Jing—she was busy devouring the soup.

Qin Huai glanced at Luo Jun on the screen. Even though Luo Jun hadn’t said a word, his expression said everything:

Chen Huihong, are you crazy?

“Xiao Qin, have you ordered yet?” Chen Huihong asked, pulling out another phone to scan the menu.

“Not yet. Sister Hong, it’s your first time here—you order, I’ll just follow your lead,” Qin Huai said.

“Same here, I’ll eat anything,” Qu Jing said between bites.

“Then I won’t hold back,” Chen Huihong said—though she ended up ordering all of Huang Ji’s signature dishes.

Sweet and sour mandarin fish, sizzling eel strips, Bi Luo shrimp, and even water shield soup from the neighboring restaurant.

Clearly, she had done some research—but not enough.

This season, fresh water shield leaves were basically gone. The ones used for soup were likely frozen—not fresh or tender.

“By the way, Sister Hong, are you and Huihui free this Sunday at noon?” Qin Huai asked. “Chef Huang reserved a private room to thank Qu Jing for introducing a rehab doctor. He’ll cook personally.”

He continued, explaining the guest list and inviting them.

But Chen Huihong wasn’t focused on the invitation at all.

She turned to the camera: “Did you hear that? Food has to be eaten hot!”

Luo Jun: …

The conversation shifted.

Qu Jing thanked Luo Jun sincerely for everything he and Chen Huihong had quietly done for her.

Luo Jun snorted.

Then he asked, “I heard you donated all your money?”

“Not all. I kept a few thousand, and I still have some cash. Plus, our hospital will soon issue year-end bonuses. Daily life won’t be a problem.”

He nodded. “At least you weren’t completely reckless.”

“What are your plans for the future?”

Qu Jing answered calmly, “I want to live properly. A normal life. Steadily, peacefully, going through birth, aging, illness, and death.”

Then she added, “But I realized there’s one important thing I still need to do—and I might need your help.”

“I want to find my parents from my previous life.”

Everyone was stunned.

Luo Jun hesitated. “From a human perspective, your past life is gone. From a spirit’s perspective, it was just a brief moment in your long existence.”

“I know,” Qu Jing said. “I just want to know if they’re still alive, how they’re doing, and if there’s anything I can do.”

After a pause, Luo Jun sighed. “Send me the information. No guarantees—I’m not a TV detective.”

“Thank you.”

Just then, the dishes arrived.

The mandarin fish, the sizzling eel still crackling with oil, gleaming beautifully.

Chen Huihong made exaggerated sounds of amazement and shoved a large bite into her mouth.

“Mm!!”

“Mm!”

Chew chew chew.

Through all the exaggerated praise, Luo Jun spoke again: “Qin Huai, about Wang Gensheng—you mentioned his ‘awakening’ state. I’ve looked into it. I think I understand now.”

Qin Huai immediately asked, “So what exactly is that state?”

Luo Jun explained: “He’s a Xiezhi. Based on his life—40 years as an accountant without falsifying accounts, honest, fair, upright—he perfectly matches his nature.”

“No strong obsession. Or rather, his obsession aligns with his personality.”

“As a Xiezhi, he stayed true to himself, earned praise instead of criticism. Any grievances from past lives should already be resolved.”

Qin Huai stopped eating. “So?”

“He will definitely awaken,” Luo Jun said. “I see no reason for him to fail.”

“‘Awakening’ means he’s coming out of that hazy state—he’s about to become fully conscious.”

Qin Huai sighed. “Honestly, Grandpa Wang is amazing—40 years of integrity, never lying, never making mistakes, and still well-liked.”

Luo Jun suddenly snapped: “If you have time to admire that, can you turn the camera around?”

“If you’re chatting, stop pointing the camera at the food!”

“Chen Huihong, why did you buy such a high-resolution phone? Your posts are always blurry anyway! How do you even manage that?”

“I’m hungry! Xiao Zhang, heat up the leftover lotus seed soup from lunch!”

Qin Huai turned the camera back—this time toward his own bowl.

Rice, topped with eel sauce, garnished with shrimp—looking incredibly appetizing under the high-resolution lens.

“Mr. Luo,” he said calmly, “food really tastes best when eaten hot.”

Luo Jun: …