AGN -Chapter 299 Truly Worthy of Being Husband and Wife

March 19th was little Han Youxin’s second birthday.

It was rather embarrassing to say, but although Han Youxin was the true protagonist of this birthday banquet—the only birthday star—his presence was surprisingly low. So low, in fact, that Qin Huai didn’t even meet the little birthday boy until the day of the celebration itself.

A chubby little birthday boy.

Han Youxin had been very well cared for by Mr. and Mrs. Han—fair and tender, with arms plump like segments of lotus root.

The weather in March was still a bit chilly. When Qin Huai first saw him, the little chubby boy was bundled up tightly in his mother’s arms, wearing a thick brown bear–shaped padded coat, stretching out his tiny hand and pointing at the ceiling light while giggling foolishly.

It was obvious that Wang Jing had good arm strength.

A two-year-old child was already not light, let alone a chubby one like Han Youxin with lotus-root-like arms, dressed in such thick clothing. Yet Wang Jing could easily carry him with one hand, while using the other to hold her phone and send messages. Clearly, she had practiced.

“Chef Qin, I’m sorry for calling you out at this hour. It didn’t delay your pastry work, did it?” Wang Jing said apologetically, patting her son to signal him to quiet down and stop babbling.

“Not at all,” Qin Huai replied.

And it truly wasn’t. It was only 9 a.m. Qin Huai had been worried that he and Zang Liang wouldn’t be able to handle the workload, so he had arrived at the kitchen a little after 5 a.m.

But he wasn’t the earliest—Zang Mu had come after 4 a.m., Tong Deyan arrived around 7, and the rest of the helpers had mostly shown up before 6.

For a banquet, it was always better for the kitchen staff to arrive early. Better to be idle than overwhelmed at the last minute.

After all, contracts had been signed—mistakes would cost money.

Arriving early meant Qin Huai and Zang Liang quickly finished their tasks. The first batch of test dishes—Three-Diced Buns, Fermented Rice Steamed Buns, and Four-Joy Tangyuan—had all come out of the pot. Even the longevity noodles had been tasted by Qin Huai, Zang Liang, Zang Mu, and Tong Deyan—each had a bowl. If not for worrying about running out of broth, Qin Huai could have eaten several more.

Back at Huang Ji, longevity noodles were unlimited—whenever Qin Huai wanted, there was always stock broth ready for cooking noodles.

But it was different now at Yunzhong Canteen. There wasn’t such top-tier red-cooking talent there.

Longevity noodles were 50% about the noodles and 50% about the broth.

Noodles cooked in ordinary chicken soup were just ordinary chicken noodle soup. Only when simmered in premium stock broth did they become shining, golden B-grade or even B+ grade longevity noodles.

The ones made with Zang Mu’s broth were B+ grade. Qin Huai hadn’t had such high-quality longevity noodles in a long time, and upon tasting them, he almost wanted to lick the bowl clean.

“May I ask if you have any additional requests, President Wang?” Qin Huai asked.

Chen Gong had mentioned that Wang Jing and Han Guishan were a self-made couple. In earlier years, Wang Jing had also been a senior executive, only retiring in recent years after achieving financial freedom and having a child. Calling her “President Wang” was perfectly appropriate.

“It’s not really a request,” Wang Jing said. “Yesterday, Chef Tong told my husband that the menu had been changed—sweet soup replaced with longevity noodles. I think that’s great. I just wanted to ask whether the noodles contain any ingredients unsuitable for children. Since it’s Youxin’s birthday, he should at least have a taste during the banquet. He doesn’t have allergies—I’m just worried that some ingredients might not be suitable for kids his age.”

While she spoke, Han Youxin began sucking on his fingers. Wang Jing lightly tapped his hand, and he reluctantly took them out of his mouth.

Hearing her concern, Qin Huai felt relieved. Tong Deyan, being an experienced chef, had already spent over twenty minutes discussing the ingredients with Qin Huai the previous night, confirming everything repeatedly to avoid any dietary restrictions.

“You don’t need to worry,” Qin Huai smiled. “Chef Tong already confirmed everything last night—there are no issues with the ingredients. It’s completely safe for children. Mr. Han also specifically requested a small bowl of longevity noodles for Youxin—thin, delicate noodles, smaller portion, but the same length as the standard ones.”

Only then did Wang Jing relax. She gave a look to the nanny nearby, who immediately stepped forward to take Han Youxin from her arms.

“That’s wonderful. Chef Qin, are you busy now? I heard from Chen Gong that the kitchen staff were eating noodles.”

Qin Huai: ?

“Not… not busy.”

Wang Jing’s smile became more genuine. “That’s great. I’ve been dieting recently, so I don’t eat carbs at night. Yesterday I asked my husband to save me some fermented rice buns, Three-Diced Buns, and Four-Joy Tangyuan, but he ate everything and only left me one bun. After eating that this morning, I couldn’t eat anything else. Do you still have noodles in the kitchen? Just make me a bowl to fill me up.”

Qin Huai: …

President Wang, you and Mr. Han really are a perfectly matched self-made couple!

“Yes,” Qin Huai replied. “If you don’t mind, we still have the first batch of test items—Three-Diced Buns, fermented rice buns, and Four-Joy Tangyuan. The tangyuan are uncooked and need boiling, the buns might be a bit cold, and for the Three-Diced Buns… there are a few raw ones left—you may need to wait a few minutes while I steam them.”

The already-steamed ones had just been eaten by Zang Liang.

Wang Jing’s eyes lit up, but she still asked, “Do you have noodles?”

“You’ll have to wait a bit longer for those—the hand-pulled noodles are made fresh.”

Her smile grew even more satisfied. “No rush. I’ll try the buns and tangyuan first. Ah, dieting really makes eating feel like a burden. Later at the banquet, I won’t even dare eat these carbs.”

Qin Huai: 6
So you won’t eat carbs at the banquet, but you will in the kitchen? President Wang really understands dieting.

“So, what would you like?” Qin Huai asked.

“I’ll have everything. My husband will be here soon—if I can’t finish, he will.”

Qin Huai instantly understood. “Got it. I’ll make more.”

Wang Jing nodded approvingly, thinking that Chen Gong hadn’t lied—this young Chef Qin really understood unspoken meaning.

Ten minutes later, Wang Jing—dressed in an LV dress, Burberry trench coat, Gucci scarf, Valentino shoes, wearing a Cartier bracelet and Tiffany necklace, and carrying a Hermès bag—was squatting skillfully at the kitchen entrance.

One foot forward, one foot back, leaning slightly ahead so she could see the people at the doorway.

Holding a bowl in one hand and chopsticks in the other, she devoured the noodles at lightning speed.

Qin Huai squatted beside her, blending right in—and ended up eating another bowl himself.

Zang Mu, who was prepping ingredients, looked at the scene in confusion, shooting Tong Deyan a look that seemed to ask: Didn’t you remind Qin Huai yesterday?

Tong Deyan could only close his eyes in despair.

Zang Liang eagerly asked, “Master, can I—”

“Don’t even think about it!”

At the kitchen entrance, Wang Jing finished her bowl in a whirlwind, stood up to drink the soup, and even shared her experience with Qin Huai:

“You can squat while eating, but when it comes to drinking the soup at the end, you must stand up—otherwise it won’t go down smoothly.”

“Before I met my husband, I worked as a waitress in a state-owned restaurant. Back then, the kitchens weren’t as big as these modern ones, but the layout was similar. Sometimes we secretly cooked for ourselves—we couldn’t eat outside, couldn’t go inside and disturb the chefs, and most importantly, our clothes weren’t clean enough for the kitchen. So we’d squat by the doorway and eat like this.”

“This spot and this posture are perfect—it’s something I learned after years of experience. From here, you can see outside, and if someone comes, you can stand up immediately and walk out with your bowl. From the angle of the door, people outside can’t easily notice you—it’s very safe.”

“Indeed,” Qin Huai said, looking sincerely enlightened. “That’s extremely practical. Next time I sneak food for my sister, I’ll have her try finding the right angle too.”

“But my canteen has transparent glass—people outside can see inside the kitchen. Would this angle still work?”

“You can always find a blind spot,” Wang Jing said confidently. “Follow this method—you’ll definitely find one.”

“Thank you, President Wang.”

“It’s nothing, it’s nothing.”

After finishing her bowl of noodle soup, Wang Jing instantly transformed from a state-owned restaurant waitress back into the composed, retired President Wang. She straightened her clothes, calmly walked to the kitchen entrance to tease her son for a moment, then handed her spot over to Han Guishan.

“Take it easy when you eat—don’t ruin your appetite for lunch,” Wang Jing reminded him.

“Got it, got it,” Han Guishan nodded, then immediately began devouring the food at full speed.

Qin Huai gave Chen Gong a friendly smile. “Assistant Chen, want a bowl of noodles?”

Chen Gong first glanced at Han Guishan. Seeing his boss eating heartily, he thought for two seconds, then nodded.

With both Han Guishan and Chen Gong already eating, Qin Huai returned to the workstation to continue making pastries. It was true that he had arrived early and had free time, but today was the day of the birthday banquet—there was work to be done. Qin Huai couldn’t just chat idly with Chen Gong like yesterday, fishing for gossip.

As for why he had squatted at the door eating noodles with Wang Jing just now…

Chef Qin, who hadn’t eaten enough, simply felt that sharing a bowl with President Wang made the meal more enjoyable.

Seeing Qin Huai return to work, Zang Liang also went back to his tasks.

Zang Liang worked efficiently—he had already finished preparing all the ingredients needed. What he was cutting now was extra, beyond the banquet requirements.

Making more was never a bad idea. President Han could definitely finish it.

Qin Huai was preparing the filling for Four-Joy Tangyuan. With his current master-level skill, he could mix fillings while chatting, or even with his eyes closed, and still not mess it up.

“Zang Liang, what kind of person do you think would devote themselves wholeheartedly to a company?” Qin Huai asked.

Zang Liang was chopping meat and didn’t dare lose focus. His response came half a beat slower than usual as he kept his eyes on the meat. After thinking for a moment, he said, “Someone with a high salary?”

“When I first started learning cooking from my master, I was an apprentice with no pay. Back then, I envied the dishwashers the most. They earned over 2,000 a month—I thought that was more money than I could ever spend. If I had 2,000 a month, I could’ve worked in the kitchen until I died!”

“Let me rephrase the question,” Qin Huai said. “Suppose spirits exist in this world—beings that change their life direction and habits because of obsession. What kind of obsession would make such a being follow their boss wholeheartedly, devoting themselves completely, even unto death?”

Faced with Qin Huai’s strange question, Zang Liang accepted it quite naturally. He was a friend of Tan Weian, who had told him that Qin Huai had a habit of imagining he had a game system that assigned tasks and graded dishes.

After witnessing Qin Huai’s skill in mixing fillings, Zang Liang felt that any quirks he had were perfectly acceptable.

After all, Gu Li from Zhiweiju had the habit of working 14 hours a day.

For someone Qin Huai’s age to have such culinary skills—if he didn’t have some eccentricity, that would be truly unreasonable.

Zang Liang began thinking seriously.

In fact, Qin Huai had already discussed this question in a video call the night before with his “Happy Family” group.

After a day of conversation, Qin Huai had basically concluded that Chen Gong’s obsession was related to work—perhaps wanting to be a good employee.

Obsessions among such “spirits” varied widely; nothing was too strange. Chen Gong seemed to be in the process of awakening, which meant he had encountered the trigger. Based on his behavior, that trigger was likely Han Guishan.

These were conclusions Qin Huai had reached yesterday afternoon. After a full night of discussion, they had gotten no further.

Luo Jun, the group’s top “analyst,” had completely failed when faced with someone like Chen Gong—someone obsessed with working. He admitted defeat, saying he neither understood nor respected it.

Chen Huiling guessed that Chen Gong might simply lack money—that his obsession might not be about work, but about wealth. Since Han Guishan paid him a seven-million annual salary, that might explain his loyalty.

Qu Jing thought money wasn’t the main reason. She believed Chen Gong’s obsession was likely with a person, and Han Guishan just happened to resemble that person closely.

Qin Huai felt none of their guesses were reliable, so he decided to ask a completely ordinary human for a rational perspective.

Zang Liang thought for a long time.

“Maybe… because they think the boss is a really good person?”

“When I was young, I didn’t want to learn cooking. My family was poor, and my parents thought I had talent. My older cousin was a chef, so they believed becoming a chef would make money. That’s why I started learning from my master.”

“Back then, I cried and threw tantrums every day. I didn’t want to live at my master’s house, didn’t want to practice cutting vegetables—I just wanted to go home and watch TV. I tried everything.”

“My master had no choice but to send me back home. My parents tricked me, saying life as a chef is hard when you’re young, but when you grow up you can make a lot of money—go wherever you want, eat whatever you want, even eat one candy and throw another away, drink one bottle of cola and pour another out.”

“So I got tricked back again.”

“At first, I just wanted to learn quickly so I could earn money. I envied the dishwashers, the seafood station, the prep cooks, the assistants—they all had salaries and seemed less tired than me.”

“But after a while, I stopped envying them. Because I had an exceptionally good master. Instead, they should envy me.”

“If I put myself in that position—if there were a reason I’d devote myself completely to a boss or a master—it probably wouldn’t just be money. Of course, having more money helps, and if it’s a lot, that’s a different story. But I still think the person matters most. First, they have to be someone worth doing that for.”

Qin Huai immediately looked at Zang Liang in a new light. Even though he was a “well-connected hire,” he was actually thoughtful, driven, and insightful.

Qin Huai felt this perspective was the closest to the real answer.

Money had to be sufficient, but the person also had to be good.

If that was the case, then the key to understanding Chen Gong might lie with Han Guishan.

For other “spirits,” the strategy was to build a good relationship with them directly. But for Chen Gong, the strategy was to build a good relationship with his boss.

“Are you tired?” Qin Huai asked.

“Not at all. Today’s prep workload is pretty small—less than a third of what I usually do. I’ve realized your pastry section is much easier than our hot kitchen. Your prep isn’t complicated, even though the volume is large.”

Qin Huai smiled. “Then would you mind doing a bit more work?”

Zang Liang: ? Wasn’t he already working?

“I’m planning to make an extra 30 jin of Three-Diced Buns and 50 jin of Four-Joy Tangyuan. Sorry for the trouble—I’ll treat you to longevity noodles later.”

“If there’s enough broth, I’ll cook you a whole pot!”

“Thirty jin of Three-Diced Buns and fifty jin of Tangyuan fillings, right? Don’t worry—leave it to me!”