AGN -Chapter 275 Master-Level Filling Adjustments

When Cao Guixiang left, she was carrying a large bag of Four-Happiness tangyuan.

It was the kind of big black household garbage bag, completely filled.

As for whether it was actually a trash bag… Qin Huai didn’t care. It was simply the largest bag he could find. He had originally wanted to give her several bags, but Cao Guixiang refused—she only took one.

The amount was so large that even Zhang Chu couldn’t help exclaiming the moment he saw it.

“Isn’t it a bit inappropriate for us to both eat and take some home like this?”

“How many sets of molds am I supposed to make for Little Qin Master?”

Qin Huai saw Cao Guixiang’s family off to the village entrance. After watching their car leave, he returned and continued tasting the A-grade Four-Happiness tangyuan.

A-grade tangyuan were definitely tastier than B-grade ones purely in terms of flavor.

Yes, that was a pointless statement.

Qin Huai’s feelings while tasting them were complicated.

If he had to pinpoint what had changed, it was only the meat filling. The meat was chopped by Cao Guixiang, and she also used her secret starch-water soaking method.

Was the meat filling better after using her method?

Yes—dramatically better.

So good that the originally ordinary, plain filling—normally just a supporting role among the four—became the most outstanding of the four flavors.

Its texture wasn’t especially tight, nor was it loose. It didn’t burst with juice when bitten, nor did it release flowing juices like fruit fillings. It didn’t have a special chewiness or layered complexity.

It was simply a straightforward pork filling.

But it was delicious.

Simple—but extremely delicious.

It carried a kind of “great truth is simple” return-to-basics kind of taste.

It was the kind of deliciousness a child might imagine: someone who grew up only eating home-cooked food, never exposed to fancy dishes, unable to imagine how exquisite cuisine might taste when seeing it on TV—yet still building a “delicious world” in their imagination based only on limited experience.

It wasn’t flashy. It was just simple home-style meat filling.

But it was good.

Very good.

Even better when eaten together with the other three sweet fillings.

In the A-grade Four-Happiness tangyuan, the savory meat filling finally caught up with the other three sweet ones. It didn’t fall behind, didn’t feel mediocre, and instead provided a perfect balance—surprisingly simple yet impressive, elevating the entire dish to a higher level.

To fully appreciate this harmony, Qin Huai cooked another pot.

He ended up eating three bowls.

Twelve tangyuan.

He almost died from overeating in the kitchen.

Not everyone had Qin Luo and Ou Yang’s capacity.

Qin Luo stood nearby, staring at Qin Huai eating three bowls, practically drooling with envy. When she saw there were still two bowls left and Qin Huai clearly couldn’t eat more, she looked like she wanted to take his place entirely.

She had already eaten one bowl.

It was too delicious.

She ate too fast, wasn’t satisfied yet, and it was already gone.

“Brother! Brother! I can still eat!” Qin Luo said excitedly, raising her hand eagerly. “Are you doing a taste test? Let me do it!”

Although Qin Luo hadn’t started her homework yet, Qin Huai did need a professional taster. He nodded.

“Eat!”

Qin Luo happily rushed over and took the bowl.

After she finished another serving, Qin Huai slowly asked:

“What impressed you most about the tangyuan just now?”

“The meat!” Qin Luo answered without hesitation. “Brother, the meat in this is super delicious!”

“It’s very rich, very tender, and very porky!”

Qin Huai understood her description perfectly.

“Don’t eat the other bowl yet. I’ll make another batch for comparison,” Qin Huai said.

He wanted to confirm something: was the improvement due to the starch-water soaking method, or was Cao Guixiang’s knife skills simply far beyond what he had imagined?

He used meat chopped by the village chief’s son-in-law, applied the starch-water method again, and made a fresh batch of meat-filled tangyuan.

By now, the meat had long been prepared.

The village chief’s son-in-law’s chopping skills… well…

It was meat.

Previously, Qin Huai thought it was acceptable—better than Aunt Wang’s, but above average.

But now, with proper comparison…

Knife skills were clearly a fundamental skill, one that reflected a chef’s true level.

Same steps. Same timing.

Two rounds of starch-water soaking, five minutes each time.

Visually, there wasn’t much obvious change.

The tangyuan were wrapped.

Boiled.

Soon, a new batch of Four-Happiness tangyuan was ready.

【Four-Happiness Tangyuan – B+ Grade】

Although the result was exactly as expected, Qin Huai still couldn’t help feeling surprised when he saw the rating.

Damn… what level was Cao Guixiang’s knife skill at?

The effect of her chopping alone was equivalent to the starch-water method.

No—more precisely, her chopping provided an even greater effect, because the gap between B+ and A grade was an insurmountable divide.

Was the neighboring village really full of hidden experts? And someone this skilled had actually gone to the countryside as an educated youth?

Back in the day, just how good did people eat around here?

Qin Huai even thought: if Cao Guixiang could also perform advanced stir-frying techniques, and he asked her to help with fillings for pastries…

Could the quality reach an even higher level?

He stopped himself.

No point dreaming too far.

“Try it,” Qin Huai handed the B+ tangyuan to Qin Luo.

As expected, she first ate the meat filling.

“How is it?” Qin Huai asked.

“Delicious, but not as good as the previous one,” Qin Luo said after chewing carefully. “The texture isn’t as fine, and the meat flavor isn’t as strong.”

“No, it’s not that there’s no meat flavor—it’s just not as fragrant.”

Her explanation wasn’t very precise, but Qin Huai understood.

The starch-water method could enhance meat filling, but only if the base quality was already high enough.

For example, if the base score was 60, a 10% boost becomes 66.

But if the base score is 100, a 10% boost becomes 110.

Cao Guixiang’s exceptional knife work raised the base score significantly. Combined with the starch-water method, the result became transformative.

Conclusion: shortcuts don’t work—practice more.

Knife skills improve the foundation. And Qin Huai believed that “master-level filling adjustment” could do the same.

Now he had tasted A-grade tangyuan. He had a goal, motivation, and a deadline.

March 19th was Han Youxin’s birthday. It was now February 16th—only one month away.

Given his current rapid improvement, Qin Huai was confident he could reach master-level filling adjustment before the Lantern Festival.

The remaining time would be split: half for continuing tangyuan practice to consolidate skill, and half for improving heat control.

Cao Guixiang was undoubtedly a red-stove master—far stronger than Huang Shengli. Now that he had her contact, Qin Huai felt he couldn’t waste it.

He had learned from Master Huang for months; now he could attend “online classes” with Master Cao.

If he could even get a couple of in-person sessions, even better.

Qin Huai felt relieved that Yunzhong Canteen had Li Hua and Pei Xing managing things. As a boss, he might not return exactly on the sixteenth day of the first lunar month.

The neighbors would just have to wait a few more days.

He needed to improve himself.

Little Qin Master was determined to progress!

So determined that he decided he could no longer waste time. Efficiency had been too low.

No more listening to gossip while making tangyuan.

Gossip only slowed him down.

His eyes burned with determination as he stared at the kitchen counters full of bowls and trays.

A fire had ignited in him.

“Luo Luo,” Qin Huai said, glancing at Qin Luo, who was still eyeing the A-grade tangyuan.

“Take the tangyuan inside to eat.”

“Huh?” Qin Luo immediately had a bad feeling.

“Eat them, then do your homework. It’s already the sixth day of the New Year. You’ve only done two worksheets. Today, you must finish at least one math paper.”

When Qin Luo left, it felt like her world had collapsed.

She couldn’t understand why her brother changed his attitude faster than flipping a book. One moment he was making pastries for her to taste, and the next he was telling her to take them back to her room and do homework.

But Qin Luo knew priorities. She also knew that procrastination would do her no good—in fact, it could lead to something even worse: eating Four-Happiness tangyuan for several more days.

And most likely, they wouldn’t taste as good as the ones just now.

So Qin Luo obediently carried the tangyuan back to her room to do her worksheets.

Qin Huai rolled up his sleeves and entered work mode, and casually asked his cousin He Cheng to relay a personnel adjustment.

He told the village party secretary that he was “laid off”—he didn’t need to come to the kitchen anymore to gossip. Chef Qin didn’t have time to listen.

On the other hand, since the old secretary had introduced Zhang Chu’s family, contributing greatly to Qin Huai’s Four-Happiness tangyuan business, he would still be entitled to tangyuan even if he stopped coming to gossip.

Three bags a day. Enough to eat full!

When the old secretary, who had taken a day off and gone home happily to play mahjong after sending Zhang Chu’s family off, heard this news, his world collapsed.

What good were three bags of tangyuan if his “employee meal” was gone?!

Qin Dali, Qin Dali—how could you have overlooked this?!

After sending them away, you should’ve rushed back to the kitchen and told even more exciting gossip! Was mahjong that fun? Did you really have to play it today?

Who? Who went behind his back and caused his “dismissal”?!

Neither the old secretary nor Qin Luo knew what Qin Huai was thinking.

Because at this moment, he had fully immersed himself in the production of Four-Happiness tangyuan.

On the 7th day of the Lunar New Year, named relatives came to visit and left carrying large bags of tangyuan.

On the 8th day, they came again—and left with even more.

On the 9th day, they could barely carry them anymore.

In the kitchen, Qin Huai had lost all sense of time. He stopped listening to gossip, stopped chatting, stopped drinking tea, stopped making staff meals, and even handed his sister’s studies over to his parents.

When he was truly exhausted, he would simply make a bowl of chicken noodle soup to recover.

Because he made too much chicken noodle soup, even the task of boiling chicken soup was outsourced to villagers who raised chickens. As a result, the village’s hens suffered greatly, and every household was filled with the aroma of chicken noodle soup.

If a family made slurping sounds at noon or in the afternoon, it meant their hen had “died for a good cause.”

If even that was tiring, Qin Huai would open his status panel and check his proficiency.

Just one look would recharge him instantly.

Victory was in sight!

For people who play games, they know: when you’re on a winning streak, you don’t feel tired.

No one would stop a boss fight at the final sliver of HP and say, “I’m tired today, let’s stop here.”

On the 10th day of the Lunar New Year, Grandma Qin felt this couldn’t continue.

Not because she felt sorry for her grandson.

That wasn’t it—she did care about him.

But Qin Huai himself had said he had an important project in March. All this effort during the New Year was for that. As a reasonable grandmother, she couldn’t drag him down at a critical moment.

What worried her was something else: the more tangyuan Qin Huai made, the more distant visiting relatives became. By the 11th day, the “visiting relatives” might end up being her younger siblings instead.

At this rate, wouldn’t they be the ones benefiting?

So she decided they needed a new plan. They had to mobilize relatives who still had free time after the 10th day.

Qin Huai’s maternal uncle and third uncle were very free—they were still living in the Qin household.

Their children were very filial. Knowing their fathers wanted to bond with their sister, they never rushed them, and even wanted to come themselves to “bond with their aunt.”

Every time they saw photos of the meals posted in the family group chat, they felt an intense desire to visit.

There were still empty rooms in the Qin house.

That was the advantage of living in the countryside—big houses, many rooms.

Realizing there weren’t enough “usable relatives,” Grandma Qin held an emergency meeting that night with Qin Xiuli, the uncles, and others.

They listed all relatives who were free on the 11th day.

And when they came, they should bring their own bags—there weren’t enough bags at home anymore.

It would be best if there was a proper “reason” for coming, so no one could gossip.

So on the 11th day of the Lunar New Year, the kitchen suddenly had many familiar helpers.

Uncles, aunts, cousins, nephews, nieces—even extended relatives.

There weren’t enough positions, so even dishwashers, vegetable washers, and cleaners were replaced by trusted relatives. The villagers of Qin Village suddenly found themselves “unemployed” and cried that the world was unfair, accusing Grandma Qin of nepotism.

Qin Huai: …

Fine. They were all familiar faces anyway, people who came every year for New Year visits. It was reassuring to use them.

As long as it didn’t affect his proficiency grinding.

By the 14th day of the Lunar New Year, no one in the Qin family’s relatives didn’t know that Qin Huai had a big project in March.

It was outrageous.

Every relative who had worked in the kitchen said it was truly outrageous.

If their own children studied with this level of determination, they could confidently say they would get into a 985 university.

At worst, a 211.

At the very least, a decent undergraduate university.

Some relatives even brought their high school-age children to observe from outside the kitchen and give “educational lessons”:

“Look at your cousin/uncle Qin Huai.”

“Do you know why he can get into a good university and also make such good pastries?”

“Because he works hard!”

“Look how hard he is working now—he worked even harder when he was studying! You should learn from him!”

Then the child would usually ask:

“What about Sister/ Aunt Qin Luo?”

“She’s also in the room doing worksheets. See? How hardworking!”

Inside the room, Qin Luo was furiously doing worksheets:

She was clearly not the one making pastries—so why was she the one getting ‘grinded’?

Beside her, He Cheng, who had also been dragged in to do homework, looked equally miserable.

At least Qin Luo felt a bit better seeing that.

On the afternoon of the 14th day of the Lunar New Year—also 5:17 PM on February 24th—Qin Huai felt his brain had gone slightly numb from making tangyuan.

Now everything he saw looked like tangyuan.

No, he couldn’t keep going. He needed a break—and gossip.

He picked up his phone, ready to see if Dong Shi had sent him any new gossip.

Qin Huai wasn’t a robot. He couldn’t work nonstop. Besides chicken noodle soup, gossip was also part of his rest routine.

Listening took too long—reading was faster.

Dong Shi was wordy when speaking, but concise when typing.

After finishing stirring his meat filling, Qin Huai casually opened his status panel.

The fastest-growing skill recently was filling adjustment—but that didn’t mean the others hadn’t changed.

Player Name: Qin Huai

Unlocked recipes: 7/12

Skills:

Fermentation (Advanced): better than 96% of pastry chefs nationwide. (29127/100000)

Filling Adjustment (Master): better than 98% of elite pastry chefs nationwide. (11/1000000)

Dough Shaping (Intermediate): you’ve started shaping pastries. (8999/10000)

Frying (Intermediate): your fried dough sticks are decent. (1372/10000)

Knife Skills (Beginner): home-cooking level. (671/1000)

Heat Control (Intermediate): needs improvement. (8977/10000)

Food Tasting (Advanced): you’re quite good at eating. (Cannot upgrade)

Business (Intermediate): you won’t lose money. (319/10000)

Lying (Master): you can talk to anyone in any situation. (416117/1000000)

…Huh?!

Filling adjustment—Master level?!