AGN -Chapter 287 Flattery

To give both new and longtime customers at Yunzhong Cafeteria a surprise, Qin Huai got up especially early on March 9 and arrived at the cafeteria at 3:00 a.m.

He had assumed he would be the first one there.

After all, the breakfast shift officially started at 3:40 a.m. In the past, Zhao Rong and Qin Congwen used to arrive very early as well, but after the cafeteria hired more helpers, work became more efficient, so the two of them no longer needed to come in so early.

They were early risers because of their many years selling breakfast, not because they disliked sleep. If they could keep a normal schedule and wake up at five or six, they certainly wouldn’t choose to get up at two in the morning.

But when Qin Huai arrived at exactly 3:00 a.m., someone was already there.

The front door was slightly ajar. There was light coming from the storeroom, and the kitchen lights were on as well. Qin Huai was a little surprised to find someone inside the cafeteria at this hour. Following the sounds, he went to the storeroom and found An Youyou.

It had been quite a while since he had seen this memorable and outstanding employee. In his memory, An Youyou was a petite girl with a slightly babyish face who loved earning money. She often wore loose, faded clothes. She had originally worked as a server, but later transferred to the kitchen as a helper because she wanted to make more money.

At the moment, An Youyou was carrying a sack of flour.

“An Youyou?” Qin Huai glanced at the time to make sure it was only 3:00 a.m. “Why are you here so early? Haven’t I said that I don’t encourage people to start work ahead of schedule?”

An Youyou gave him a cheerful grin.

“Well, Master Qin, you’re back! Sister Xi said you’d definitely come in extra early this morning. She told the kitchen helpers to choose one person to open up and come early to assist you. There was a 50-yuan bonus, and since I live nearby, I came.”

“You moved?” Qin Huai asked. He remembered that she hadn’t lived close before.

“Yep. The landlord of my old place sold the apartment because his daughter was getting married. The new owner didn’t want to rent it out, so he returned my full deposit and even gave me an extra 500 yuan. Then, at the end of the year, I got a year-end bonus, and at the company annual party, I won 1,000 yuan in cash. So I rented a studio apartment nearby.”

“It’s more expensive, but the place is wonderful—it’s on the seventeenth floor, and it even has an elevator!” she said, beaming.

Qin Huai could tell that An Youyou really loved nice housing—especially places with good decoration, a great location, and modern facilities.

“We have an annual party?” Qin Huai asked blankly. As the owner, he had no idea the cafeteria even had one.

“It was held two days after Little New Year. Nothing fancy—we just had a meal together in the cafeteria after work and did a prize drawing.”

Qin Huai nodded. During that period, he had been working around the clock in Huang Ji’s kitchen making Guo’er and Four-Joy Tangyuan. Unless someone specifically called him, he probably wouldn’t even notice messages. Huang Xi had likely mentioned it, but he must have missed it completely.

He really didn’t manage much of Yunzhong Cafeteria’s day-to-day operations. Zhao Rong and Qin Congwen usually handled everything.

“So what were the prizes?” he asked casually.

“Cash red envelopes ranging from 200 to 5,000 yuan. Chef Pei was incredibly lucky—the only 5,000-yuan prize went to him!”

Qin Huai immediately understood. Zhao Rong had almost certainly chosen the prizes. Whenever she participated in supermarket raffles or community lotteries, she always complained that the prizes looked expensive but were impractical. In her opinion, cash was far more useful.

Now that she got to decide the prizes herself, she had simply made her dream a reality.

Seeing that An Youyou was handling the flour sack with ease, Qin Huai didn’t step in to help. He had been so focused on all the pastries he planned to make this morning that he had forgotten Yunzhong Cafeteria wasn’t the same as Huang Ji’s kitchen.

At Huang Ji’s, there was Gu Li—the king of overachievers. No matter how early Qin Huai arrived, he could never beat Gu Li. By the time he got there, many things were already prepared. Even during the New Year, the village helpers arrived earlier than one another, often showing up without even eating breakfast, bowls in hand, waiting for the staff meal.

An Youyou arriving this early really was a big help.

“Have you been practicing your knife skills lately?” Qin Huai asked.

An Youyou’s eyes lit up.

“I have! Every morning I’ve been mincing meat. Chef Chen An and Chef Li Hua have both given me lots of pointers!”

“Good. Then come help me mince filling in the kitchen later.”

With that, Qin Huai headed to the changing room.

An Youyou hurried after him.

“Ma—Master Qin… I mean, Master Qin, what pastries are you making today? What should I prepare?”

“Pastries… a lot of pastries. Just do as I tell you later. It’ll also give me a chance to see how your fundamentals are progressing.”

Qin Huai felt that he was no longer the same Master Qin as before. He was now a proud graduate of Cao Guixiang’s Knife Skills Training Camp, Class One.

Whether his actual knife skills had improved was another matter, but at the very least, he could now tell whether someone was holding a knife correctly.

Whoever got to assist Master Qin first today was in for a treat—they would receive limited-time one-on-one instruction from him.

After changing, Qin Huai entered the kitchen and began kneading dough.

Normally, he would have started with the dough for fermented rice steamed buns. Those buns required a long proofing time, and the first wave of breakfast customers—the morning exercise regulars—would arrive at six. Starting with the buns ensured they could enjoy both buns and steamed buns.

But not today.

Today, he had only one goal:

To grind out progress on his main quest.

The fermented rice buns had already met the requirement, so he wasn’t going to devote precious breakfast hours to them. If he had time, he could make them in the afternoon.

Instead, he started by kneading dough for Three-Diced Buns.

It had been a while since he had last made them. When he first obtained the recipe, he had made them frequently, and the premium Three-Diced Buns had once dominated Huang Ji’s pastry menu. But they were soon overtaken by Guo’er.

Recently, Qin Huai had spent most of his time at Cao Guixiang’s house slicing radishes, so he hadn’t made many pastries. While the Four-Joy Tangyuan had become second nature through repetition, his Three-Diced Buns had definitely become a bit rusty.

But that was fine.

Rusty or not, Three-Diced Buns were one of his specialties.

He had already spent years making them, and after obtaining the recipe, he had learned numerous techniques and further refined it.

After kneading the dough, Qin Huai noticed that An Youyou was still preparing ingredients. Taking his time, he casually opened his game interface, navigated to the recipe compendium, and began reviewing the Three-Diced Bun tutorial video.

What should you do when you’re rusty at making a pastry you haven’t made in a while?

Simple.

Watch the tutorial.

Once you’ve watched it, you’re not rusty anymore.

It really was nice being back at Yunzhong Cafeteria. The veteran staff here were all familiar with Qin Huai’s quirks, so he could openly access his game interface whenever and wherever he wanted.

At Huang Ji, while he could quickly check missions without much fuss, watching tutorial videos was another matter—he had to hide in the restroom to do that.

The staff at Huang Ji weren’t nearly as accustomed to his peculiar habits. They hadn’t spent enough time around Qin Luo, who would casually explain, “My brother has always been like this. It’s just one of his habits. He’s always messing with me like that.”

As An Youyou minced the meat, she occasionally glanced up at Qin Huai. Seeing him standing there motionless, seemingly lost in thought, she found it a little odd—but after a moment’s consideration, it seemed perfectly normal.

Master Qin was just like that.

It was one of his habits.

So she continued mincing the meat diligently.

Qin Huai skipped through the Three-Diced Bun tutorial, finishing it in about ten minutes. Once he had refreshed his memory, he went to inspect An Youyou’s prepared ingredients.

How should he put it?

They were perfectly ordinary.

Exactly the level one would expect from a kitchen helper at a normal restaurant.

The problem was that Qin Huai’s previous assistants had been anything but ordinary.

They had included apprentices from Zhīwèijū, full-time staff from Huang Ji, and even Huang Shengli’s personal disciple.

When he had returned to the village to make Four-Joy Tangyuan, he had managed to find several villagers with decent knife skills. Since Four-Joy Tangyuan didn’t require especially advanced knife work, the difference hadn’t been so noticeable.

But the filling for Three-Diced Buns was far more complex, and the demands on knife skills were much higher. The contrast became obvious immediately.

Luxury really does spoil a person.

“That’s not how you hold a knife,” said Master Qin, who had only recently learned the correct grip himself, now passing on the wisdom he had acquired just days earlier. “See, when you hold it like that, with the blade angled inward, your posture is off.”

“And when your posture is wrong, your point of force is wrong. You’re using not only your wrist but also your upper arm. Over time you’ll… well, I guess you’re already used to it. Still, it’s best to correct your form.”

An Youyou obediently adjusted her grip according to his instructions, though she looked rather confused.

Three minutes later, An Youyou no longer knew how to hold a knife either.

Qin Huai felt deeply satisfied.

Excellent.

So he wasn’t the only one who, after learning, somehow forgot how to hold a knife.

“There’s probably some radish in the storeroom. Go get some and practice your slicing. Leave the rest of these ingredients to me,” Qin Huai said, pointing at the ingredients An Youyou had already mostly prepared.

What remained for him was simply to mince the meat filling a couple more times until it was finer. Nothing especially technical—just straightforward chopping.

An Youyou went to the storeroom to fetch some radishes.

“And remember to check how many radishes we have left in stock. If we’re running low, tell Huang Xi to contact the supplier this morning and have a few hundred jin delivered before 4:00 p.m. They don’t need to be top quality, but they must be fresh. I need them for something.”

“Got it, Master Qin.”

Qin Huai continued mincing the meat. Once that was done, he started seasoning the filling.

With his Master-level filling preparation skill, Qin Huai had gained an even deeper understanding of the filling for Three-Diced Buns, along with far more precise control over it.

He had discovered that Master level truly was different from all the previous levels. If the jump from Beginner to Intermediate had felt like only slight progress, and the jump from Intermediate to Advanced had been a clear step up, then the leap from Advanced to Master was a genuine qualitative transformation.

After reaching Master level in filling preparation, Qin Huai could now spot problems instantly.

Literally at a glance.

He could tell whether a filling was good or bad just by looking at it.

This was the result of an enormous accumulation of experience.

It was quite remarkable. Although the promotion from Advanced to Master had happened in an instant, when he was merely Advanced, he had rarely been able to judge so directly.

Master level really lived up to its name.

After preparing a particularly beautiful batch of filling, Qin Huai couldn’t resist taking another photo. He sent it in succession to Cao Guixiang, Zheng Siyuan, Huang Shengli, Zheng Da, and Tan Weian.

It was simply too beautiful.

Once the filling was seasoned, Qin Huai began cooking it.

Before long, the rich aroma of the Three-Diced Bun filling spread throughout the kitchen. As he stirred, the fragrance grew even stronger, so enticing that even An Youyou—who had been dutifully slicing radishes as instructed—couldn’t help but look up and crane her neck toward the stove.

It smelled amazing.

She couldn’t help thinking so.

Had it really just been too long since she’d eaten Master Qin’s pastries? Why did today’s filling smell especially fragrant—more fragrant than any she had ever smelled before? It was so tempting that she almost wanted to grab a spoon and sneak a taste straight from the pot.

After all, when Qin Huai had been working at Yunzhong Cafeteria, the kitchen had been filled daily with the aromas of Three-Diced Bun and Five-Diced Bun fillings. Even after he had gone to Huang Ji for his exchange, he had returned for a few days and made them again. She had smelled these fillings countless times.

Thinking this, An Youyou could only scold herself inwardly.

An Youyou, An Youyou—did the New Year really turn you into such a glutton? You weren’t like this before.

In truth, An Youyou wasn’t the only one who felt this way.

Qin Huai felt it too.

Even he was a little bewildered.

He knew perfectly well how much his control of heat had improved.

It had improved—but only a little.

Heat control was simply too difficult to level up.

And yet, despite no significant improvement in that area, the filling smelled much more fragrant than before. Could seasoning really make that much difference?

At that thought, Qin Huai couldn’t help drawing in a sharp breath.

Master-level filling preparation…

Truly terrifying.

At 5:30 a.m.

“Alright, the Four-Joy Tangyuan are ready. Everyone’s worked hard this morning, so have some first to fill your stomachs. An Youyou, you remembered the cooking times just now, right? Four pots for four different fillings. Don’t be afraid to cook extra.”

“Start boiling them at 5:50. Once they’re done, make sure to let them cool for exactly three minutes and fifty seconds before serving. Otherwise, if a customer burns themselves, that’ll be hard to explain.”

“As for the Three-Diced and Five-Diced Buns, start steaming them at 6:00. Keep all the radishes you just sliced—I’m going to make radish cake later.”

“Chen An, come over here for a moment.”

“You received the picture I sent you, right? That’s the standard for the meat filling in Four-Joy Tangyuan. The filling you chopped earlier isn’t good enough. It’s acceptable for buns, but Four-Joy Tangyuan filling absolutely cannot be mediocre. Add some more fatty pork to that batch and either give it to my dad or use it for making buns.”

Holding a bowl of Four-Joy Tangyuan in one hand, Chef Qin ate while assigning tasks to the capable staff members whose names he actually remembered.

Afraid she might forget, An Youyou even took out a sticky note, wrote down Qin Huai’s instructions, and stuck it on the wall.

Qin Huai rarely got up this early, and cooking the filling had made him ravenous. He wolfed down two tangyuan in quick succession before noticing that everyone else was standing there awkwardly, not eating.

“Go on, eat. The first batch was made especially for everyone.”

There were quite a few people in the kitchen, most of them kitchen helpers. Qin Huai not only didn’t know many of them personally—he couldn’t even remember their names.

The feeling was mutual. Qin Huai hadn’t been back at Yunzhong Cafeteria for months, so most of them had only heard of him but never actually met him.

Chen An and An Youyou, who were more familiar with him, had been busy remembering his instructions and hadn’t started eating. Huang Xi was outside arranging the radish delivery with the supplier. As for the others, no one dared touch the food first.

As for Zhao Rong and Qin Congwen, now that they no longer had the same work pressures, their schedules had mostly aligned with Qin Luo’s. They wouldn’t arrive in the kitchen until after six.

Only after Qin Huai explicitly told them to eat did everyone finally pick up their bowls.

For all of them, this was their first time tasting Four-Joy Tangyuan. In fact, many of them had never even heard of the pastry before.

Almost every helper had the same first reaction upon seeing it:

What a huge tangyuan… and what a strange shape.

Then they all took their first bite.

“Holy crap.”

No one knew who said it first.

“Damn, that’s incredible.”

No one knew who said that first either.

“So this is how well the staff used to eat? No wonder all those old folks outside are so reluctant to let the boss go.”

“If I eat two bowls, will they dock my pay?”

“If they do, will you still eat it?”

“Absolutely!”

“Holy crap, I’ve never eaten anything this delicious in my entire life.”

Hearing the supposedly whispered—but actually quite loud—comments, Chen An thought to himself that these people were really laying it on thick. Flattering the boss this obviously right in front of him?

Sure, the boss’s pastries were delicious, but surely not that delicious.

As he pondered how he himself should flatter Qin Huai later, Chen An scooped up a tangyuan and took a bite.

He had chosen the red bean paste filling.

One bite.

The outer skin was soft and chewy. The red bean paste inside was warm, smooth, and slightly grainy on the tongue. It was sweet without being cloying, and there was even a silky richness to it.

Holy crap—is this really red bean paste?

If this was red bean paste, then what exactly had he been eating all these years in all those red bean buns?

“Holy crap!”