AGN -Chapter 315 Meat and Vegetable Buns

Faced with Qin Huai’s sudden request for a private conversation, the kitchen staff all remained calm, as if each of them had already guessed what Qin Huai wanted to discuss with An Youyou.

In fact, they really had guessed it.

Nothing more than a promotion and a raise.

Qin Huai valued An Youyou, and An Youyou was also very good at flattering people. Every time she spoke, she made Pei Xing grit his teeth in frustration until his molars felt like they were going to break—this was no secret at Yunzhong Canteen.

And An Youyou did indeed have her strengths.

She could endure hardship, was willing to work, happy to do overtime, a “nuclear-powered workhorse,” a veteran employee, and—most importantly—she had a good name.

Yes, in many employees’ eyes, An Youyou’s biggest advantage was that she had a name the boss actually remembered.

Being remembered by the boss had a downside: whenever something needed doing or someone needed to run errands, the boss would subconsciously call you. But the advantage was also clear—if there was ever a promotion or raise opportunity, you would be prioritized.

Of course, the former was the common outcome. The latter depended on the boss’s conscience.

And Qin Huai was clearly a boss with conscience.

That last sentence came from Pei Xing’s heartfelt opinion. He even suggested hanging it in the kitchen, with his name written underneath as attribution. If they could also add a line saying “Qin Huai is Pei Xing’s most respected white-case master chef,” that would be even better.

After finishing slicing the radishes, Qin Huai snapped a photo and sent it to Cao Guixiang for review, then began making meat and vegetable buns.

A C-grade meat and vegetable bun in Qin Huai’s hands was absolute dimensional reduction.

He wasn’t bragging—he could practically make C-grade buns with his eyes closed now.

Alright, maybe not with eyes fully closed, but closing one eye and keeping one open would definitely work.

Because he had seen Jiang Weiguo’s detailed process of making meat and vegetable buns in a dream, Qin Huai hadn’t even needed to watch a tutorial video. After instructing An Youyou and a few helpers to prepare the filling, he directly started kneading dough.

Admittedly, the filling prepared by An Youyou and the others wasn’t great, but meat and vegetable buns didn’t require high knife skills for the filling anyway. Fat cubes and cabbage—just chop them up.

The seasoning, however, was slightly more difficult.

When Jiang Weiguo made meat and vegetable buns, ingredients were limited, and the only seasoning used was basic salt. In a sense, salt alone was enough—over-seasoning such a simple bun might actually ruin it.

Soon, Qin Huai finished mixing three large basins of filling.

Pei Xing and Li Hua had technically already gotten off work, but neither of them left. They were genuinely curious why Qin Huai had suddenly started making such ordinary, plain, even somewhat crude buns.

Back when Qin Congwen still insisted on selling buns every morning, cabbage buns would at least include extra ingredients like diced mushrooms for extra flavor. This pure cabbage-and-fat-dice version was the most basic of basic buns.

Qin Huai was making buns.

An Youyou was beside him, making buns together with him.

Pei Xing and Li Hua, since they didn’t want to leave after work, were voluntarily staying overtime at another work station, making buns—but at a distance from Qin Huai.

Pei Xing stared enviously at An Youyou’s back and said bitterly, “What kind of flattery did An Youyou use? Why is she so close to Chef Qin while we’re so far away?”

Li Hua felt Pei Xing might be spiraling into something unhealthy from being outcompeted both in skill and in flattery. Without looking up, he calmly said, “Chef Qin is talking to her about a promotion and raise. It’s normal to call her over while making buns to chat and ask her thoughts.”

Pei Xing: “Damn it, why can An Youyou get a promotion and raise but I can’t?”

Li Hua: “?”

Raise is understandable, but promotion…?

Aren’t we already the highest-level white-case chefs in Yunzhong Canteen? Where exactly do you want to be promoted to? To Chef Qin’s level? To the boss? Kid, are you planning a rebellion?

Li Hua shook his head and ignored him.

Today, Pei Xing had already lost to Li Hua in technique discussion with Chef Qin, and lost again—and again—to An Youyou in flattery. He was clearly going off the deep end. Best not to provoke him.

On Qin Huai’s side, he was indeed chatting with An Youyou—casual, friendly conversation, the kind specially reserved for “spirit employees.”

An Youyou also guessed she might be getting a promotion or raise and was extremely happy.

“Yuyou,” Qin Huai asked, “how far is your current place from the canteen?”

“Only about 10 minutes!” An Youyou said happily. “Chef Qin, will I still be in charge of frying radish cakes in the future?”

She was a little worried—worried that if her job changed, she might lose her “Radish Cake Sister” title.

“Of course,” Qin Huai said. “With our relationship, especially your three-legged golden toad identity—if you want, all the radish cakes in Yunzhong Canteen will be yours to fry.”

He felt he could get to the main point now. “Do you have any plans for your future work?”

An Youyou froze.

Qin Huai added, “I mean, do you have any goals you want to pursue, or things you want to learn? I know you’ve been practicing knife skills, but that’s a long process. You can’t spend your whole life in the kitchen just chopping meat and cabbage. Do you want to learn something else?”

An Youyou understood. The boss was asking about her ambitions.

Bosses like employees who are determined, hardworking, able to endure hardship, and have lofty goals!

“I want to be a breakfast chef like Chen An!” An Youyou said loudly. “I live close, I wake up early, I work fast. I can make buns, shumai, fry dough sticks, and make wontons. I can knead dough too—I just don’t do it well, not as good as Old Qin, so everyone doesn’t let me knead.”

“But Chef Qin, don’t worry, I’ll keep working hard and practicing. Every day when I get home, the first thing I do is knead dough. I even eat noodle soup made from my own dough in the mornings!”

Qin Huai: “……”

How did you go from thinking begging was the best job in the world, to wanting to become a breakfast chef?

Did Jiang Weiguo’s buns traumatize you that badly? Did he get rich selling buns or something?

“Very good, very ambitious,” Qin Huai encouraged. “But don’t overwork yourself. Oh right, I’ve arranged some employee benefits recently. When’s your day off?”

“This Friday.”

“Tomorrow go to Sister Xi’s place and pick up a health check voucher. You know Dr. Qu, right?”

“I do.”

“Go to her hospital for the checkup. Before you go, come to the shop and bring some pastries for Dr. Qu.”

“Got it, Chef Qin.”

After finishing work matters, Qin Huai tried to shift the conversation toward personal life. After thinking for a moment, he asked casually, “Yuyou, I remember you said you wanted to save money to buy a phone, a tablet, and a computer. Did you get them?”

“I bought a tablet!” An Youyou’s eyes lit up. “I bought it right after I got my salary this month. The screen is so bright and clear—TV dramas look amazing on it, way clearer than on my phone!”

“Do you go out and relax on your days off?”

“Nope. I stay home and practice knife skills! Really, I’m very diligent. I bought a lot of radishes just to practice cutting them.”

Qin Huai: “……”

No need to be this extreme. We’re not a 996 workplace. You don’t need to be on standby 24/7 like companies in office buildings nearby.

“Don’t feel pressured,” Qin Huai said. “I remember you said your family used to run a breakfast shop. I haven’t met many people like that. Tell me about it.”

With the communication skills he had developed after interacting with Gong Liang and Chen Gong, Qin Huai’s “casual probing” had become more and more refined. If Gong Liang and Chen Gong could at least tell he was gathering information and chose what to reveal, An Youyou was completely unaware.

She was honest—what she could say, what she shouldn’t say, she said everything.

From their town’s breakfast business, to her father cutting corners—using cheap oil for meat buns, even buying low-quality oil at market fairs, making their buns smell off. Her father even added extra spices to cover the smell.

Unexpectedly, this didn’t reduce costs but increased them. However, by accident, they discovered a new spice combination that matched their buns perfectly, making their shop unexpectedly popular across the region.

As a result, An Youyou had to wake up at 2 a.m. every day to chop filling since childhood. After graduating middle school, she spent her life endlessly chopping meat until the smell made her want to vomit.

She even told Qin Huai how, when she first came to the city to find work, she tried to sell their family’s secret recipe but couldn’t find a buyer.

Qin Huai silently concluded: from now on, he would never reveal any of his recipes to An Youyou before she awakened.

Of course, there wasn’t much to reveal anyway. In his view, none of his pastries counted as “secret recipes”—they were just skills that naturally came with ability. At most, there were small techniques. If you couldn’t make them, it simply meant your skill wasn’t enough.

With An Youyou’s current level, she probably couldn’t understand any of them anyway.

After all the buns were wrapped, Qin Huai reached only one conclusion.

It’s exactly the same conclusion as before.

An Youyou was very short of money, very fond of money, and also very eager to spend money, so she still barely had any savings in her pocket.

She had truly become something like a three-legged golden toad that is very hard to actually become.

Through his conversation with An Youyou, Qin Huai realized that what Luo Jun had said during the video call earlier wasn’t really wrong—he was just a bit too aggressive.

For An Youyou, the correct approach really was to awaken her through direct promotion, salary increases, and material incentives. She was a kind of spirit beast who wore her obsession and desire on her face, never hiding it.

She simply wanted to earn money—lots of money—enough to live a wealthy life, ideally even one of luxury and indulgence.

How the money was actually earned didn’t matter much to her. As long as she didn’t end up behind bars, An Youyou had very low moral boundaries when it came to making money. She wouldn’t even mind selling her family’s secret recipe.

To help her “awaken,” making her richer was the most direct and effective method.

But there had to be limits.

It couldn’t be too sudden, and it couldn’t feel like money falling from the sky. Her moral bottom line in making money was already not high; if she were allowed to gain wealth without effort, that line would drop even further. There was no guarantee she wouldn’t stray off the path and affect her tribulation.

What Luo Jun suggested—directly giving her a house and money—definitely wouldn’t work. Instead, she needed to earn promotions and salary increases through her own labor, and improve her life through employee benefits she didn’t have before.

Qin Huai felt he had more or less figured it out.

He watched An Youyou placing buns into the steamer; the first batch was almost ready.

He didn’t let Pei Xing and Li Hua leave yet, telling them to wait and taste the first batch of buns before going.

Luo Jun and Chen Huihong were already sitting by the window. A bowl of warm dried tangerine peel tea sat in front of Luo Jun, and beside it was a cup of iced Coconut No. 1.

He alternated between sipping warm tangerine peel tea and iced coconut drink. From afar, Qin Huai felt like this “old bird” might get diarrhea tonight.

But seeing Luo Jun’s irritated, explosive mood, Qin Huai also felt that mixing hot and cold drinks might actually help him cool down.

Outside, the sky was already darkening.

At this time, it was already evening no matter how you looked at it.

The first wave of customers had already finished dinner at Yunzhong Canteen and were preparing to leave.

Luo Jun glared unhappily at Chen Huihong, who was sitting across from him cracking sunflower seeds, and shouted while taking a big gulp of Coconut No. 1:

“Chen Huihong, can you stop sitting opposite me and eating sunflower seeds?”

Chen Huihong calmly spat out a shell:

“I can only sit opposite you. No one else dares to take this seat. It’s almost dinner time anyway—you can’t occupy a whole table and affect Xiao Qin’s business.”

She then pointed toward the window:

“Look at An Youyou. She works so diligently. If Xiao Qin hadn’t said it, I really wouldn’t have guessed she’s a three-legged golden toad.”

“Lower your voice.”

“Relax, no one’s around. Even if someone hears, they’ll think I’m talking about a novel.”

“You—”

“Oh, the buns look ready! I’m going to buy some. How many do you want?”

“Two.”

Chen Huihong happily went to queue.

Besides her, many others who had been watching also noticed the buns were ready. When Qin Huai had been making them earlier, many people had seen it. In Yunzhong Canteen, there was a consensus: if Qin Huai personally made buns, it meant they were definitely worth eating.

Since he stopped being a breakfast chef, the number and frequency of his buns had dropped sharply. Each time he made them, it was only a small batch, and two steamer rounds would be sold out in under ten minutes. Not only nearby office workers, even residents of Yunzhong Canteen often went days without getting any.

Now that he had made so many, everyone was practically starving for them.

The first in line, an excited auntie, asked:

“What kind of buns are these? Three-delicacy buns? Give me ten!”

She was extremely generous.

“No, these are vegetable buns, a new item by Chef Qin. Only 3 yuan each,” the staff at the window smiled. “Aunt Liu, don’t worry, the steamer hasn’t even been brought out yet.”

Hearing that these were Qin Huai’s new vegetable buns, Aunt Liu became even more excited. Vegetable buns were good—they were cheap.

Although Xiao Qin’s pastries were varied and interesting, the cost had gone up. The 68-yuan bowl of “Four Happiness Tangyuan” was delicious, but too expensive. The residents here were not poor, but they still felt the pinch.

Often, they would sigh while eating, “Too expensive,” while chewing harder, as if chewing longer could somehow make the money back.

Mung bean cakes were good too—cheap—but there were too few. Even 333 jin a day wasn’t enough for the crowd. Many office workers would come specifically in the afternoon just to buy some to take away.

For them, not having mung bean cakes for afternoon tea meant life had no hope.

Now Qin Huai had returned to making cheap snacks again—simple vegetable buns. Aunt Liu almost teared up with joy.

“Vegetable buns are great! Give me 20!”

“Twenty might be too many for your family, Aunt Liu. How about ten? There are still many people behind you,” the staff kindly reminded her.

Aunt Liu then realized she had almost overbought in excitement. That was close.

“Right, right, I misspoke. Ten, give me ten.”

Just then, the buns arrived.

Freshly steamed buns were brought to the window along with the steamer baskets. An Youyou and the others who helped make them also got to taste the first batch.

The buns were very hot.

But An Youyou was experienced—she had grown up helping her family sell breakfast. As long as she could hold it and kept blowing on it, it could be eaten. Vegetable buns, unlike red bean buns, didn’t have scalding fillings; as long as you took small bites, you wouldn’t burn your tongue.

An Youyou took the first bite.

Just a small bite.

The bun skin Qin Huai made this time was very thin.

In a dream, Jiang Weiguo’s vegetable buns also had thin skins—not to achieve “thin skin and full filling,” but because An Youyou had bought too little flour while adding too much cabbage.

If the dough wasn’t smaller and the skin not thinner, it couldn’t be wrapped.

The advantage of thin skin was that even a small bite reached the filling.

A very simple filling, not particularly bland, but not rich either—just decent.

It was an ordinary vegetable bun, but tastier than most.

Bits of fatty pork added a hint of oiliness and meat aroma to the plain cabbage filling.

An Youyou only felt that this bun was incredibly delicious.

Even though it was just a normal vegetable bun, and not nearly as outstanding as Qin Huai’s three-delicacy buns, five-delicacy buns, or red bean buns, she still felt it was delicious.

It was deeply satisfying—almost a feeling of happiness.

She felt the happiness of “getting paid without working,” even though that was obviously impossible.

“Chef Qin, this vegetable bun you made is really too delicious! I’ve never had such good vegetable buns before! If my dad had this skill, even if my mom only gave me 100 yuan… no, 500 yuan a month, I’d be willing to get up at 2 a.m. every day to help him make buns!”

Pei Xing: !

What?! There’s even this kind of flattery technique?!

Qin Huai smiled:

“Really? That’s my honor. But the filling was chopped by you, so you also contributed to how delicious it is.”

“Also, An Youyou, starting next month I plan to promote you to team leader. Your base salary will increase by 1,500 yuan per month, plus an extra 600 yuan allowance, and an additional 2% commission on fried radish cakes.”

“Thank you, Chef Qin, but what is a team leader?”

“You don’t need to worry about that. Just know your base salary is going up by 1,500.”

“Thank you, Chef Qin!!!”