AGN -Chapter 294 Zang Liang

Chen Gong drove Qin Huai to the hotel.

Along the way, Chen Gong enthusiastically introduced the famous attractions of City A. He told Qin Huai that if he wasn’t in a hurry to leave, he could arrange for him to stay a couple more days and explore the city.

From natural scenic areas to university snack streets, historical landmarks, and even several internet-famous check-in spots that had gone viral in recent years—Chen Gong went through them all one by one. It was obvious he had prepared in advance, almost like he had drafted a script.

After covering those, he smoothly shifted the topic to the Yushanfang restaurant, where tomorrow’s birthday banquet would be held. He also took the opportunity to praise Qin Huai’s pastries for making it onto the cover of this year’s inaugural issue of Zhiwei magazine, saying that with Qin Huai in charge of the pastry section, the guests would surely be very satisfied.

After the flattery, Chen Gong seamlessly transitioned again, this time to the Good Taste Company. He briefly recounted the inspiring story of its boss, Han Guishan, who built his business from scratch, as well as his deep and enduring love story with his wife, Wang Jing, whom he met when they had nothing.

Finally, he wrapped it all up with a lighthearted anecdote about the true star of the birthday banquet—Han Youxin—who, during his “grabbing ceremony” as a child, had picked up a bottle of Good Taste soy sauce.

The entire conversation was well-structured, with a clear beginning, development, transitions, and conclusion. It was practically a model work report.

Qin Huai listened quietly the whole time, occasionally giving appropriate responses when needed.

He felt that Chen Gong was a very unusual kind of spirit.

He was too normal.

If you interacted with him normally, he would seem like a completely ordinary person—quick-thinking, reliable, articulate, and exceptionally capable at work. A model employee in every sense.

He didn’t seem like a spirit at all.

Among all the spirits Qin Huai had met, each had some degree of eccentricity due to their obsessions—whether from earlier reincarnations or their final life.

Luo Jun—before losing his memory—was a habitual troublemaker in medical disputes, a relentless food delivery reviewer, and the most well-known lonely old man in Yunzhong Community. Even when he stayed home as a shut-in, stories about him still circulated.

Chen Huihong, a plant spirit in her final life, was relatively normal among spirits, but among ordinary people, she could sometimes be overly enthusiastic.

Qu Jing, a small bird in her final life, was obviously abnormal. Before she awakened, Chen Huihong and Luo Jun constantly worried she might suddenly drop dead one day.

Gong Liang, who had been a trickster beast in several past lives, was famous for divorcing his wife three times just for a “Three-Head Banquet.” Even so, he was considered relatively normal among spirits.

Wang Gensheng, a Xiezhi, had gone forty years without falsifying accounts or making a single error—an upright and incorruptible professional accountant of unquestionable integrity.

As for Chen Huihui…

The little luan bird who had already dissipated and was still in elementary school should just focus on doing her homework every day.

Compared to these more or less abnormal spirits, Chen Gong’s normality was itself abnormal.

The most abnormal thing about him was his side quest.

When they got out of the car, Chen Gong professionally helped Qin Huai with his luggage. After a moment of consideration, Qin Huai asked, “Assistant Chen, as President Han’s personal assistant, you must be quite busy, right?”

Chen Gong hadn’t expected that after listening to him talk the whole way, Qin Huai’s main concern would be whether he was busy. He was briefly taken aback, but quickly composed himself.

“A personal assistant just has a lot of trivial matters to handle. It’s not really busy,” he replied.

“I’ve been with President Han since he founded Good Taste. He’s treated me well, so it’s only right that I do my best.”

Qin Huai recalled the story Chen Gong had told earlier. Han Guishan had started out as a traveling peddler, moving goods from south to north and selling all kinds of items. After saving up enough startup capital with his wife, he founded Good Taste, which now mainly produced soy sauce.

The company had been established 13 years ago. At first, it didn’t even sell soy sauce—it simply rebranded and resold various condiments.

If Chen Gong had been with Han Guishan since the beginning, then at around 35 years old with a bachelor’s degree, he must have joined right after graduating from university—a true veteran among veterans.

Qin Huai felt he was starting to get a clearer understanding of Chen Gong’s personality and background.

Through this birthday banquet, he planned to have a proper chat with Chen Gong’s boss, President Han.

After all, he hadn’t even met this generous client yet—the one who had already paid a 50% deposit without seeing him in person.

That was one bold boss.

Just as Chen Gong had said, the hotel was very close to Yushanfang. In fact, “close” was an understatement—it was right next door. Turn left after exiting, walk about thirty steps, and you’d arrive.

As the most famous high-end restaurant in City A, Qin Huai wasn’t sure whether Yushanfang’s food lived up to its grand name—but its décor certainly did.

There was only one word for it: expensive.

It was the kind of place that, back when Qin Huai was in college, he wouldn’t even consider walking into just to check the menu prices.

Chen Gong had reserved a private room—Room 666. When they entered, Zang Mu and a young man were already seated inside.

“Chef Zang, sorry for the delay—the traffic from the airport was a bit heavy. This is Chef Qin Huai. Chef Qin, this is Chef Zang Mu. Tomorrow’s birthday banquet will rely on both of you,” Chen Gong introduced.

Zang Mu looked to be around forty, with an expressionless face and dressed in dark gray. He gave off the impression of someone who wasn’t good with words.

He stood up and nodded to Qin Huai. “I’ve heard a lot about you, Chef Qin. Your pastries truly live up to their reputation. I specifically visited Huangji in early January to try them. It’s no wonder they made the cover of Zhiwei. I’m very glad we can collaborate for this banquet.”

After speaking, Zang Mu gestured to the young man beside him, who had already stood up respectfully like an apprentice.

“This is my apprentice, Zang Liang. I brought him along to assist me.”

“Hello, Chef Qin! Please have a seat—let me pour you some tea,” Zang Liang said warmly as he served tea.

“Zang” wasn’t a common surname. Hearing that both Zang Liang and Zang Mu shared it, Qin Huai couldn’t help but take a closer look. They did resemble each other somewhat, though their ages didn’t quite match. Zang Liang was likely a nephew or some other relative.

It was very common for master chefs to take on apprentices from within their own families—keeping the benefits within the family. Teaching apprentices required significant effort and didn’t always pay off, so naturally, family members were prioritized.

Take Pei Xing as an example—his résumé even listed being a distant relative of Pei Shenghua, showing how useful it was to have a powerful elder in the culinary world.

Noticing Qin Huai’s glance, Zang Mu explained, “Zang Liang is my nephew.”

Zang Liang gave a grin that practically screamed “well-connected insider.”

Everyone took their seats. Chen Gong had the dishes served, and with such a skilled and socially adept assistant present, the meal went smoothly and pleasantly for all.

After the meal, Qin Huai began to understand why, despite having a high-end restaurant like Yushanfang in City A, Han Guishan was still willing to spend a large sum to hire outside chefs for his son’s birthday banquet.

Not all high-end restaurants were equal.

In terms of décor, Huangji couldn’t compare to Yushanfang.

In terms of taste, Yushanfang couldn’t even come close to Huangji.

If high-end restaurants were graded, Huangji would at least earn an A, while Yushanfang would barely scrape a C-minus—not even quite a solid C.

A truly skilled head chef was just that important.

After the meal, Chen Gong asked Qin Huai and the others to rest in the private room while he went to contact the restaurant manager and arrange a tour of the kitchen.

As soon as Chen Gong left, Zang Mu received a phone call and stepped out as well, leaving only Zang Liang and Qin Huai in the room.

Zang Liang couldn’t hold it in any longer.

Qin Huai could tell he couldn’t hold it in.

From the moment the dishes were served, Zang Liang’s eyes hadn’t been on the food—they were fixed on Qin Huai. Qin Huai’s intuition told him that Zang Liang definitely had something to say to him, and it would come within three seconds.

Three.

Two.

One.

“Damn, bro, you’re freaking amazing!” Zang Liang blurted out, opening with a classic Tan Wei’an-style WeChat line. “Let’s add each other on WeChat—Tan Wei’an’s a good buddy of mine too. He’s been telling me how awesome you are since late December, been going on about it for months!”

“I’ve only heard your name all this time, never met you in person—finally get to see you today!”

“How did you make that filling the other day? The bun filling—damn, it was insane! If I had that level of seasoning skill, I’d be strutting around the kitchen sideways. I even showed the photo to my master—he barely talks, but even he praised it several times.”

“Last week when I heard you were in charge of the pastry section for this birthday banquet, I begged my master to bring me along. Took me four or five days of pestering before he agreed.”

“Tan Wei’an told me you need a helper with good knife skills. Me—nicknamed the ‘Little Prince of Red Kitchen Knife Skills.’ My cutting is top-tier, I specialize in prep work, proven track record.”

“Bro, pick me as your helper—you won’t regret it!”

Qin Huai: …

How did such a quiet, taciturn master like Zang Mu end up with such a hyperactive apprentice? Did the master save all his words for the apprentice to say?

“But… aren’t you here to assist Chef Zang?” Qin Huai asked hesitantly.

“That’s just the official excuse. I came to see whether Tan Wei’an has been exaggerating about you. Pick me—you won’t lose out. My knife skills are way better than his!”

Qin Huai: …

Qin Huai realized that although he had known Tan Wei’an for several months—spent time working side by side in the kitchen, chatting about all sorts of gossip—he actually knew almost nothing about him.

Every time Qin Huai sent him photos of fillings, Tan Wei’an seemed to reply with just a simple “damn, awesome,” but in reality, he had been quietly forwarding them around.

That hobby was… puzzling.

“Alright, let’s try it out this afternoon,” Qin Huai nodded in agreement.

He really did need a helper with good knife skills to chop the meat filling for the Four-Joy Tangyuan.

He didn’t expect Zang Liang’s knife skills to reach Cao Guixiang’s level—where the filling alone could elevate the tangyuan to A-grade. He just needed Zang Liang to be better than Li Hua, ideally enough to push the already A-grade tangyuan up to A+.

And with the special “birthday banquet buff” on top of that—

Tomorrow’s Four-Joy Tangyuan would definitely be the star of the banquet!

Easily complete Chen Gong’s side quest and make his dear boss Han Guishan shine at the birthday party.

By the time Zang Mu returned from his call, Zang Liang and Qin Huai had already added each other on WeChat and were now sitting silently in the private room, chatting through their phones.

By the way, Zang Liang had an impressive collection of “damn” reaction stickers—he could send over a dozen in a row without repeating any.

Around 2 p.m., Chen Gong returned to the private room with a middle-aged man. At first, Qin Huai thought the man was Chef Tong Deyan and was about to stand up to greet him, when he heard Zang Mu say calmly: “Boss Han.”

Boss Han!

Han Guishan!

The big client!

Qin Huai’s smile instantly shifted—from one reserved for meeting a fellow master chef to one meant for a major patron. His tone became noticeably more enthusiastic.

“Boss Han, I’ve heard so much about you—sorry we haven’t had the chance to meet before.”

Han Guishan laughed warmly. “I’m the one who’s heard a lot about you. Sorry about this, Chef Qin—I originally planned to visit Huangji to taste your dishes, but I’ve been tied up with work.”

“Xiao Chen just got a call—Chef Tong has landed and is on his way here. The kitchen at Yushanfang is ready now. How about we not waste time and head straight to the kitchen for the tasting?”

“I’d also like to get a preview of tomorrow’s big dishes.”

“Of course,” Qin Huai nodded. “Assistant Chen, about the filling I sent earlier…”

“It’s all stored in the kitchen freezer.”

“Perfect.”

Seeing Qin Huai agree so readily, Zang Mu hesitated, then stepped closer to Han Guishan and spoke in a low voice:

“Boss Han, tasting is certainly necessary—every banquet requires it. But many dishes need advance preparation. It’s too late to make everything from scratch today, so this afternoon I may only be able to prepare a few simpler dishes. Would that be alright?”

“No problem at all, no problem,” Han Guishan waved it off. “I’m just here to taste. Tomorrow’s banquet is all arranged by Xiao Chen—I trust his judgment.”

Hearing that, Chen Gong straightened his back even more.

“I’m just here to sample the food,” Han Guishan added, his expression clearly saying: I don’t understand the details, I just pay—no interference, no micromanaging.

Only then did Zang Mu relax.

Many chefs disliked taking on catering jobs for wealthy clients precisely because some bosses, while lacking expertise, felt compelled to make unreasonable demands just because they were paying a lot. Concepts like “colorful black” or “radiant white” didn’t just appear in design clients—they showed up in banquet clients too.

Chen Gong led everyone toward the kitchen, with Han Guishan and Qin Huai walking at the back.

Qin Huai’s intuition told him Han Guishan had something to say.

Sure enough, Han Guishan rubbed his hands and moved closer.

“Chef Qin, I heard from Xu Cheng that you’re from Guangdong and skilled in many types of pastries. I was wondering if it might be convenient…”

Qin Huai immediately caught his meaning. “What would you like to eat, Boss Han?”

“Pickled vegetable dumplings!”

Qin Huai: ?

What kind of pastry was that? It didn’t sound particularly appetizing.

“It’s a specialty from my hometown—solid dumplings made with pickled vegetables and cornmeal. I haven’t had them in years. I’m not sure if you…”

Although Qin Huai had no idea what pickled vegetable dumplings were, from the description they sounded simple enough. He agreed without hesitation.

“After the tasting, if there’s time, I can try making some for you, Boss Han.”

“Though we don’t have this kind of dish in my hometown, so I’m not sure if it’ll match your taste.”

Han Guishan was delighted. “Thank you so much, Chef Qin. I’ve already prepared the ingredients.”

“No trouble at all—it’s a small matter.”