AGN -Chapter 338 A Blessing in Disguise

Qin Huai’s second attempt at thickening the sauce was the same as in the afternoon—far less inspired than the first. The movements looked almost identical, but he knew clearly in his heart: having the “feel” and not having it were completely different things.

When the feeling was there, it was as if divine help guided him. Without it, he was merely following instructions mechanically.

The crab roe sauce was finished.

A very ordinary batch—not as good as what Zheng Siyuan usually made.

Even if his thickening technique had improved, it couldn’t make up for his lack of proper heat control. Feeling a bit embarrassed, Qin Huai held up the plate of crab roe sauce closer to the phone so Cao Guixiang could see it clearly—unaware that on the other end, Cao Guixiang had already taken off her reading glasses.

“Master Cao, my heat control really isn’t great, and I’m not very skilled at making crab roe sauce yet. This is the final result—just take a look,” Qin Huai said, raising his head.

Cao Guixiang laughed loudly. “Alright, stop holding the plate up so high. Your arms will get sore. Put the phone down too—I’ve already seen it.”

Hearing this, Qin Huai set the plate down, stood on a chair, and took down the phone and stand from the top of the cabinet. The first thing he did was observe Cao Guixiang’s expression.

He saw no disappointment or dissatisfaction—clearly, she was generally satisfied with his performance today.

“Master Cao, what problems do you think my thickening has? If I want to practice it now, how should I go about it? Should I keep making crab roe sauce, or stir-fry yam, or practice something else?” Qin Huai asked humbly.

Cao Guixiang answered with an unrelated question: “Has your cafeteria been busy lately?”

Qin Huai was taken aback, thinking this wasn’t the time for small talk—but since she wanted to chat, he nodded. “It’s been alright.”

“Tan Wei’an brought several chefs from Zhiweiju over for exchange. Our menu boards can barely fit everything now. Yesterday, some pastries didn’t even have proper menu signs yet, so Sister Xi just wrote them on paper and stuck them on the window. When something’s ready, we just shout it out. More than one regular customer has said there are so many varieties now they can’t keep up eating them all.”

As he spoke, Qin Huai couldn’t help but laugh.

He wasn’t exaggerating. There really were too many kinds of pastries for customers to keep up with. With so many chefs from Zhiweiju, each making at least three or four items a day, Yunzhong Canteen could easily display over a dozen types of filling, hearty pastries at any given time.

According to Tan Wei’an, these apprentices rarely had the chance to take full charge and sell their own creations back at Zhiweiju. After all, it was the top establishment in the pastry world, with extremely high standards. Even Su Qian mostly assisted Master Zhou, let alone the other elite apprentices.

In a way, coming to Yunzhong Canteen was a real opportunity for them—not just to learn, but to experience what it felt like to truly be a pastry chef.

“Not to mention Zang Liang came today. He’s a Huaiyang cuisine chef. If he’s willing to cook staff meals casually, our food quality could improve a lot.”

Cao Guixiang nodded thoughtfully. “Right, I remember you mentioning him. How long will he be staying?”

“Not sure. He only mentioned it last night and arrived today. But he should stay more than half a month. He said his master will be away next week for about half a month—possibly going abroad—so he’s taking the chance to come here.”

Cao Guixiang thought for over ten seconds before asking, “Then if he doesn’t learn much in the first week, that would be a bit of a loss. What is he best at?”

“Knife skills. But this time he wants to focus on seasoning. Of course, he’s mainly here to help us with thickening and to research crab roe sauce together—he’s quite interested in it,” Qin Huai replied honestly.

Cao Guixiang seemed to have made up her mind and fell silent, clearly calculating something.

Qin Huai also stayed quiet, waiting for her to speak.

After about three or four minutes, she showed a look of realization. “Alright. It’s not practical to have you come back immediately—you’ve got business there and visiting peers.”

“But waiting too long won’t do either. Your thickening needs someone watching over you. If you experiment blindly on your own, I’m afraid you’ll develop bad habits like with your knife skills—it’ll be hard to correct later.”

“Zang Liang came all this way for exchange. It wouldn’t be right to just leave him unattended. That’s not how our industry works.”

“Can you come back the day after tomorrow?” she asked.

Three days later.

Qin Huai thought for a moment. In theory, he could return any day. As long as it wasn’t a sudden same-day request, he could always make time.

That was one of the perks of being a boss—flexible scheduling.

And as long as he didn’t leave for too long, customers would accept it. Regulars at Yunzhong Canteen were already used to Chef Qin occasionally disappearing for a day or two.

After all, even if they didn’t like it, there was nothing they could do. When he had gone to Huang Ji for exchange before, they couldn’t exactly follow him like those wealthy retirees from Yunzhong Community who could chase after good food wherever it went—they could only wait bitterly.

Just thinking about it brought tears to one’s eyes.

Qin Huai quickly reviewed his schedule for the next few days. Aside from researching the double-crab bun, there was nothing urgent.

He nodded decisively. “I can.”

“But… am I going to your place to learn the next stage of knife skills? Isn’t that a bit early? I feel like my knife skills haven’t reached that level yet,” Qin Huai said, puzzled.

He had a clear understanding of himself—not just in what he was good at (kneading dough and preparing fillings), but also in what he wasn’t (knife skills and heat control).

After daily practice, he always knew whether he had improved or regressed. Even without looking at any system panel, he could feel it.

Although the panel showed he was only about 100 proficiency points away from intermediate level, he knew that those 100 points couldn’t realistically be gained in just three days.

In fact, it felt like the system worked strangely—the lower the level, the harder it was to gain proficiency; the higher the level, the easier it became.

From beginner to intermediate required 1,000 points, from intermediate to advanced 10,000, from advanced to master 100,000, and beyond that, 1,000,000.

Except for that absurd final jump, gaining the first 1,000 didn’t necessarily feel easier than gaining the next 10,000.

From his experience, seasoning proficiency increased rapidly even without deliberate practice, just from daily cooking. Meanwhile, despite practicing knife skills intensely every day, his progress felt almost stagnant.

Clearly, these proficiency gains had their own mysterious logic.

Numbers alone weren’t reliable—what mattered was feeling.

Yes, Qin Huai, the master of “feeling,” relied on intuition in everything.

Cao Guixiang smiled. “Who said I’m bringing you back to train knife skills? Your knife work—give it another ten days, maybe half a month. More practice won’t hurt.”

“I’m asking you to come back to teach you thickening.”

“Thickening?” Qin Huai was stunned.

Seeing his shock, Cao Guixiang chuckled. “Why so surprised? Did you think I only teach knife skills? Among all hot-kitchen techniques, thickening is what I’m best at. Even my two senior brothers can’t match me. Teaching you will be more than easy.”

Qin Huai waved his hands quickly. “That’s not what I meant, Master Cao. I’m just surprised you’re willing to teach me thickening. Or rather… I’m surprised—at my current stage, should I even be learning thickening? Isn’t it supposed to be an advanced technique learned after mastering the basics?”

In Qin Huai’s view, thickening was similar to finger techniques—except that in the hot kitchen, thickening was more practical than finger work in the pastry kitchen. Both were considered advanced skills, meant to be learned after completing the fundamental courses.

“That’s right, in theory,” Cao Guixiang said. “But even if I don’t teach you, wouldn’t you try to figure it out yourself? I can tell you’re quite interested in thickening.” She wore an expression that clearly said: After teaching you online for so long, do you think I don’t know what kind of person you are?

Qin Huai smiled awkwardly, revealing a slightly sheepish, novelty-chasing grin.

“No need to feel embarrassed. Everyone goes through this. When I first learned cooking, I hadn’t even mastered chopping, yet I wanted to learn wok tossing, soup seasoning, caramelizing sugar in oil, thickening, fruit carving… Wanting to learn new and difficult things is normal. Wanting to learn means wanting to improve—that’s a good thing.”

“You only get laughed at if you can’t learn it. Once you do, it becomes real skill.”

“Since you have talent in thickening, don’t waste it. Don’t mess around blindly. Otherwise, you’ll end up like with your knife skills—starting all over again from how to hold the knife. Just tell me: do you want to learn or not? If you do, come back the day after tomorrow. I’ll teach you from the very basics. Thickening is easy to get started with—you can grasp the fundamentals in two days.”

“Once you’ve learned the basics properly, you can experiment however you like. As long as your foundation is correct, whatever you create can be considered innovation.”

“It’ll only take two days—three including travel—not much of a delay. You’ve got that group from Zhiweiju led by Xiao Tan, and Xiao Zang who came all this way to help you research crab roe sauce. You shouldn’t stay here too long either.”

“I’ve already seen your thickening method just now—it’s what you learned from me, but you haven’t fully grasped the essence. My method can be considered a bit of a unique specialty. It’s somewhat wasted on crab roe sauce, but it’s extremely useful in the hot kitchen.”

“If we have extra time, I can give you some additional one-on-one training. Learn as much as you can, then go back and teach Xiao Zang.”

“But be prepared—you’ll have to work very hard. Even tougher than when you practiced knife skills with me before,” Cao Guixiang said in a tone meant to scare children, though her face carried a gentle, grandmotherly smile.

Hearing this, Qin Huai was genuinely shocked.

Of course, he knew Cao Guixiang possessed many secret recipes and unique techniques. As a disciple of Tan family cuisine, she was incredibly formidable—he had even looked her up online.

She was basically on the level of a hidden master in a martial arts novel.

Because of this, Qin Huai had never mentioned to Zheng Siyuan or Tan Wei’an what Cao Guixiang had taught him. Even the recipe for cold sea cucumber was something he had unusually kept to himself.

Likewise, others were very mindful of boundaries. Whenever Cao Guixiang taught online, no one would come near Qin Huai, afraid of overhearing something they shouldn’t.

That’s just how the culinary world works—even though many things are now open, there are still plenty of closely guarded secrets.

Qin Huai understood that Cao Guixiang teaching him so openly might be because she appreciated his talent, or simply because of her kind nature. But while she was willing to teach, he, as the student, couldn’t pass those teachings on to others without her permission.

There should always be proper boundaries between people. Just because someone treats you well doesn’t mean you should take everything for granted—this was something Qin Huai had understood since childhood in the orphanage.

This was the first time Cao Guixiang had suggested that he pass on what she taught him—and without her appearing personally, letting Qin Huai teach instead. It was essentially handing him a huge favor.

“Master Cao, you…” Qin Huai didn’t know what to say.

Cao Guixiang immediately understood his expression and explained with a smile, “Xiao Zang barely knows you, yet he was willing to come all this way just because of your call. No matter what he wants to learn, he’s a good kid—a friend worth keeping.”

“Chefs need good friends in the same profession.”

“Even if he ends up not helping much, you can’t let him come all this way for nothing. At least let him learn something—otherwise he might feel it wasn’t worth the trip, right?”

“My thickening technique isn’t that easy to learn. Whether Xiao Zang can master it depends on his ability—and yours.”

Qin Huai smiled. “Don’t worry, Master Cao.”

“I have a strong feel for thickening. I’ll definitely work hard to master it.”

The next morning, when Qin Huai arrived at the canteen, Zang Liang hadn’t come to work yet—which was normal. As a hot-kitchen chef, his working hours started later than those of pastry chefs.

By the time Zang Liang arrived, the chicken noodle soup and crab roe noodles were already gone. The tasting dishes made by the Zhiweiju chefs had also been finished off by Ou Yang.

But Zang Liang wasn’t picky—he grabbed two buns made by Chen An as breakfast.

“So, are we continuing to research crab roe sauce today? I’ll handle the thickening,” he said, chewing on a bun. “Yesterday, watching Qin Huai’s technique gave me a lot of inspiration. I studied it for a long time after going back. I think my thickening will definitely be better today—maybe I’ll finally find that ‘feeling’ you guys keep talking about.”

Tan Wei’an, a believer in “feeling” who had never actually found it, said coldly, “First find the feeling for crab roe sauce. Do you even know what kind of sauce you’re aiming for?”

Zang Liang glared back at his old friend and raised his voice, “Isn’t that what we’re figuring out? It’s not like you, obsessed with crab roe noodles—you’re practically marinated in crab roe sauce by now. How can I compare?”

Qin Huai quickly stepped in to mediate, saying it wasn’t important, and briefly mentioned that he would be leaving in two days to return home for further training in thickening.

He emphasized that if the training was successful, he would return swiftly like lightning and teach Zang Liang the latest “secret thickening technique,” so they could study and improve together.

Zang Liang: °Д°

There’s such a good deal?!

He came all this way to help—and could even learn a legendary secret technique?!

Master, why didn’t you tell me exchanges could be this amazing? If you had, I would’ve gone out for exchanges long ago! Didn’t you go abroad a couple of years ago?!

Following the principle of fairness, Qin Huai also offered to teach Tan Wei’an and Zheng Siyuan if they were interested. He had already confirmed with Master Cao that she didn’t mind him teaching a couple more close friends.

Zheng Siyuan wasn’t very interested, saying he still hadn’t figured out advanced wok tossing. Rather than learning thickening, he’d rather spend time on that. Thickening wasn’t very useful in pastry work, and his current level was sufficient.

Tan Wei’an also declined, saying he simply couldn’t learn it.

After all, even his basic thickening was mediocre—how could he possibly master a secret technique?

In the end, only Zang Liang felt like fortune had fallen from the sky.

“Going out for exchanges is amazing!” he exclaimed.

Tan Wei’an watched his good friend benefit in every way and felt like grinding his molars into dust.

At that moment, he finally understood why Pei Xing was always grinding his back teeth.

He felt like doing it too.

Tan Wei’an: T^T