AGN -Chapter 339 Is There a Problem?

Soon, news spread throughout the entire Yunzhong Cafeteria diner circle that Chef Xiao Qin would be going on another three-day trip.

The diners’ reaction to this was…

No reaction at all.

It was only three days—so long as he wasn’t gone for months, everyone could accept it. Life right now was great: in the morning, there was a rich breakfast beyond just the pastries made by Chen An; at noon, you could have Four-Joy Glutinous Rice Balls as a full meal; at night, crab roe noodles could serve as dinner. Throughout the morning, afternoon, and even dinner hours, there were randomly available twenty to thirty kinds of pastries.

If crab roe noodles and Four-Joy glutinous rice balls felt too expensive, that was fine too—affordable mung bean cakes and radish cakes were the favorites of budget-conscious diners.

If work felt exhausting and overwhelming, that was fine as well. As long as your hands were fast enough and your luck was good, if you managed to grab a cup of tangerine peel tea—even after a client made you revise a proposal seventeen times and then told you the first version was the best—you could still smile…

Well, actually, no. You couldn’t smile at all. You could only reluctantly accept it while imagining throwing all seventeen versions in their face and slapping them seventeen times—smack, smack, smack.

Even if Xiao Qin’s pastries were hard to get, there were still Xiao Zheng’s crispy pastries, fermented rice buns, San Ding buns, and fresh meat mooncakes. These four were Zheng Siyuan’s regular offerings.

Unlike Qin Huai, who would feel uncomfortable making the same pastry for several days in a row, Zheng Siyuan thoroughly enjoyed this repetitive life—making the same items every day. He even wanted to fix exact times for making each pastry daily.

Tan Wei’an had more than once privately complained to Qin Huai that Zheng Siyuan must have obsessive-compulsive tendencies—at least when it came to pastry-making.

Thanks to the abundance of pastries, Yunzhong Cafeteria’s customers could easily accept the reality of not having Xiao Qin’s creations for a few days. Upon hearing the unfortunate news, they simply said “oh” and continued eating.

Yes—this was exactly how Yunzhong Cafeteria’s most loyal diner, Old Master Xu Tuqiang, reacted.

When Xu Tuqiang heard the news, he was eating glutinous rice cake.

It was the last serving of glutinous rice cake available that day, specially reserved by Qin Huai for him—a precious “small stove” treat that warmed his heart.

Moved by Xu Tuqiang’s love and persistence for glutinous rice cake, Qin Huai decided to temporarily add it to his regular menu—making rice cakes every afternoon and selling them the next morning.

Since rice cakes had to be prepared a day in advance, not all of them would be used for glutinous rice cake. Some would be turned into rice cake soup and sold during the evening service.

Qu Jing had recently switched to a regular day shift schedule. Every evening, she came to Yunzhong Cafeteria for dinner on time and would also take home the pastries Qin Huai saved for her as breakfast for the next day.

“Xu Tuqiang, when did you get so close to Chef Xiao Qin?” Old Man Qian eyed him suspiciously, as if asking whether he had violated some unspoken agreement.

Xu Tuqiang kept eating the rice cake without speaking—talking at that moment might choke him to death.

After finishing the plate, he took a couple of sips of tea and said slowly, “What do you mean ‘when did I get close’? I’ve always had a good relationship with Chef Xiao Qin. Don’t forget—who was the first to discover his cooking? Who brought all of you here for breakfast?”

After speaking, he shot an indignant glance at Old Man Wang, who was already standing at the kitchen entrance, about to step inside.

“Don’t give me that sarcastic tone. If you’ve got guts, go be sarcastic to Wang Laogen. Who has a better life than him? We all sit outside to eat—he gets to sit inside.”

With that, the conflict immediately shifted. Old Man Qian, Granny Ding, and another unnamed elder at Table No. 9 all turned their envious, jealous, and resentful gazes toward Wang Gensheng, their faces full of longing to take his place.

“How does Wang Laogen have such good luck? Every good thing falls into his lap—demolition compensation, trips to Suzhou, private meals. What kind of fortune is that?” Even Granny Ding, usually peaceful and loving, was full of jealousy. “Why does Chef Xiao Qin ask him to taste the crab roe sauce? I understand crab roe sauce too!”

“At our kindergarten, a teacher’s aunt’s in-law’s neighbor used to sell crab roe sauce.”

Everyone: …

That kind of barely-even-a-distant-connection really didn’t need to be mentioned.

They could only continue staring at Wang Gensheng with confused envy.

In fact, not only were people in the dining hall looking at him this way—someone in the kitchen was too. That person was Tan Wei’an.

Today, the one responsible for thickening the crab roe sauce was still Zang Liang. Incidentally, since Zang Liang had wandered into a community cafeteria dominated by pastry chefs, he couldn’t find much to do. Being idle made him uncomfortable, so in the morning and at noon he simply took over the work of the two nearly invisible savory chefs—

Half of the dishes served at lunch that day were cooked by Zang Liang.

Customers who got his dishes felt their appetites mysteriously increase. People who normally ate one jin now wanted to eat four. Those trying to lose weight found themselves eating while scolding themselves, wishing they could slap themselves while continuing to devour more food.

Zang Liang’s cooking skills directly crushed the confidence of the two savory chefs, making them suspect he wasn’t here for exchange—but rather hired by the boss to warn them: improve your skills or get fired in two months.

Since Cao Guixiang had told Qin Huai not to practice thickening on his own and instead learn properly in Guangdong in a couple of days, Qin Huai resisted the urge and left all thickening work to Zang Liang.

Now then—those with good memory might recall that this morning Zang Liang claimed he had found a bit of the “feeling” for thickening.

Had he found it?

Zang Liang thought he had.

Qin Huai felt he still needed time to adapt if he wanted to join their “feeling-based” approach.

Zheng Siyuan felt the crab roe sauce Zang Liang thickened wasn’t what he wanted.

Tan Wei’an felt: found it my foot. What’s the point of good technique if he doesn’t understand crab roe sauce? Does he understand the value of three generations of sauce-making?

Before Tan Wei’an could fully express his critique—he had just frowned and said, “I think it’s not quite right”—Qin Huai nodded, said he understood, and directly took the sauce to Wang Gensheng for tasting.

Tan Wei’an: …

Wait—his only role in the team was tasting the sauce. Now he didn’t even get to taste it anymore?

Who was this Old Man Wang? He didn’t look like a chef—no muscle, no calluses. A food critic? Was there even a well-known crab roe sauce critic in the country?

Why did Qin Huai ask him to taste it? Did he really understand crab roe sauce?

Tan Wei’an practically ground his teeth to dust.

Zheng Siyuan glanced at him calmly, feeling that Tan Wei’an needed to train not just his cooking but also his mindset. He pointed at the batch of crab roe sauce cooked over twenty minutes ago—which hadn’t been used due to imperfect thickening—and said: “Qin Huai kneaded some noodles just now.”

In other words: if you want crab roe noodles, cook them yourself.

Tan Wei’an gritted his teeth and went to boil noodles.

Meanwhile, Qin Huai and Zang Liang were waiting for Old Man Wang’s verdict.

To be fair, Wang Gensheng wasn’t particularly eloquent—his expression skills were just average. He wasn’t a food critic, nor related to the culinary world at all, which made his food evaluations rather limited in wording.

Of course, still a bit better than Qin Huai and Zheng Da.

Both Qin Huai and Zang Liang watched him expectantly.

Qin Huai was expectant because Wang Gensheng was the only person who had tasted the version of Double Crab Bun he aimed to recreate. The final say rested entirely with him—if he nodded, it was fine; if he shook his head, no matter how good it tasted, it wouldn’t pass.

From a technical standpoint, there was nothing wrong with Zang Liang’s thickening—it was standard, proper, without flashy tricks. As a disciple of the Huaiyang master Zang Mu, his skill and talent were among the best of the younger generation.

The issue wasn’t technique.

It was that he hadn’t found the feeling that crab roe sauce thickening required.

But all of this was just Qin Huai and the others’ opinion.

What Qin Huai needed was for Wang Gensheng to taste it and confirm whether their judgment was correct—so they could convince Zang Liang.

After all, Zang Liang felt that his thickening was quite good.

And Zang Liang’s anticipation came entirely from the fact that he didn’t know who Wang Gensheng was. He assumed Wang had been specially invited by Qin Huai to evaluate the crab roe sauce, and subconsciously believed he must be a highly professional food critic—without even considering whether such a critic actually existed domestically.

Under the expectant gazes of the two, Wang Gensheng took one bite after another.

At this moment, Old Master Wang was very nervous.

As a Xiezhi, Wang Gensheng’s pursuit of fairness, justice, and honesty was practically ingrained in his bones. He had a strong sense of responsibility. Being invited by Qin Huai to taste the crab roe sauce at the kitchen entrance, his instinct was to do the job well—to taste something distinctive, and ideally produce an on-the-spot review no less impressive than the ones Xu Tuqiang posted on social media.

But it was hard for Wang Gensheng to achieve what he wanted.

Because he felt that something about this crab roe sauce wasn’t quite right.

A troubled expression appeared on his face.

“Don’t be nervous, Old Master Wang. Just say whatever you think. Even if you feel it’s not good, say it boldly. If it’s not good, that’s exactly why we need to improve it,” Qin Huai reassured him.

Wang Gensheng nodded and spoke frankly, “I think this crab roe sauce isn’t good.”

Zang Liang: ?

Are food critics these days so blunt? No buildup at all—just straight to criticism?

“What’s not good about it?” Qin Huai pressed.

Wang Gensheng thought hard. His eyes narrowed, wrinkles deepened around his forehead and eyes, his facial features almost scrunched together—as if the words I can’t figure it out were written all over his face.

“It’s just… it feels different.”

Qin Huai immediately caught the keyword.

“Different? You’ve had crab roe sauce used for double crab buns before, right?” Qin Huai asked.

Wang Gensheng nodded. “Didn’t I tell you? Maybe I forgot. It’s been many years, so I don’t remember very clearly.”

“After eating the buns back then, my friend gave me two jars of crab roe sauce, said it was leftover from making the buns, told me to take it home and mix it with rice.”

“I understood his intention. At that time, I had just started working, and my family wasn’t well-off. Most of my salary had to be sent home every month, so I had to save on food.”

“In our cafeteria, you could use meal tickets to buy staple food, and you’d get one serving of cabbage for free. Other dishes cost extra.”

“I couldn’t bear to spend money, so every day it was cabbage with rice. And that cabbage—so plain, just boiled in water without even a drop of oil. My friend saw me eating like that every day and worried I’d starve myself, so he stuffed those two jars of crab roe sauce into my hands to go with my meals.”

“I originally planned to eat them slowly over a year.”

“But my friend told me the sauce wouldn’t last long and that I had to finish it within two months. It hurt my heart so much…” Wang Gensheng smacked his lips—not so much out of pain, more like lingering craving.

“So the crab roe sauce you had before—how exactly is it different from this one?” Qin Huai asked.

Wang Gensheng thought again, uncertain. “Taste… maybe? No, not exactly taste. It still tastes like crab roe sauce, no strong spices or anything. But it’s different, different in… in…”

“That one was lighter. No—not exactly lighter. It still felt rich, but… somehow lighter.”

It was clear he wanted to describe it more vividly, but lacked the words. His lips even trembled with the effort, as if he wanted to slap himself to make the words come out faster.

“Is it the feeling that’s different?” Qin Huai asked. “This sauce doesn’t have the same feeling as the one you had before. It’s not about saltiness—the overall taste is similar. That ‘light yet rich’ thing you mentioned—I think I understand. It’s probably an issue with the thickening. The final thickening didn’t give you the feeling you wanted, right?”

“Yes, yes, yes!” Wang Gensheng nodded repeatedly. “Exactly what you said—it doesn’t have that feeling, not like the sauce I had before.”

“Actually, that sauce wasn’t even particularly good for pairing with rice. But when I ate it back then, it felt incredibly delicious. Just dipping a little and eating it with cabbage soup over rice—the plain, watery cabbage soup suddenly became tasty. Better than pickles.”

“You might think it’s like pickles—strong flavor—but it’s not. The pickles back then were really salty—you could eat a whole basin of rice with just a bit.”

“That crab roe sauce was different. You had to dip just a little, then take a bite with rice. The rice soaked in cabbage soup was soft and loose—take a big mouthful, and it just slid down your throat. It was just… good.”

As he spoke, Wang Gensheng smacked his lips again.

“But there were only two jars—finished them in less than three months. Later my friend gave me two jars of pickled vegetables, said they were made Sichuan-style. Not sure where he got them, but they were tasty too, good with rice.”

It was clear that his friend had quite some connections—being able to get Sichuan pickles in Suzhou back in those days.

After finishing his evaluation, Wang Gensheng looked at Qin Huai expectantly, wondering how he had performed and whether he could at least get a passing score.

Qin Huai smiled. “Thank you for your help, Old Master Wang. I’ll need to trouble you to stay here at the cafeteria for a few more hours—later we’ll have double crab buns for you to taste.”

“I know the crab roe sauce isn’t quite right yet, but it’ll take time to fix. Keep tasting, and let me know anytime if you notice anything or remember something.”

“Alright, alright!” Wang Gensheng nodded repeatedly. “Oh right, later my friend also gave me two jars of preserved vegetables—said they were made in a northern style.”

Qin Huai: …That part doesn’t need to be mentioned. Let’s focus on things related to double crab buns, Old Master Wang.

Wang Gensheng left the kitchen entrance and found an empty seat to wait for the buns.

Qin Huai turned to Zang Liang. “Do you understand now? It’s still a matter of feeling. There must be an issue with the thickening—you haven’t found the right feeling.”

“But I think the priority isn’t the thickening yet—it’s finding the feeling of the crab roe sauce itself.”

“You can keep thickening without worrying about waste. As you’ve seen, plenty of customers here are happy to eat crab roe noodles or rice. If nothing else, we can sell the sauce directly—I’m sure there’ll be demand.”

“The key is more practice—finding that feeling.”

“Try to find it before I come back. By then, I’ll have learned thickening techniques from Master Cao. If you’ve found the feeling for the sauce, we can study thickening together. Your technique is better than mine, so you’ll still be mainly responsible for it.”

“As for the sea cucumber, Zheng Siyuan and I will handle it. I’ve practiced quite a bit recently—not as good as him, but enough for making buns. The double crab bun isn’t that demanding in handling sea cucumber—the main difficulty lies in seasoning.”

“So that’s the plan. Practice more and find the feeling. Any questions?” Qin Huai looked at Zang Liang.

Zang Liang: …

Yes. There is a problem.

What exactly did that Old Master Wang just say? It felt like he didn’t really say anything—and yet, with just this ‘feeling’ and that ‘feeling,’ the whole discussion was somehow concluded.

Zang Liang felt like his thickening today already had some feeling—but what feeling exactly? Which feeling was he supposed to find? Was the “feeling” they were talking about the same as the one he felt?

Why are there so many different “feelings”?!