AGN -Chapter 359 Who Was Stimulated?

“Do you think this dough is good?”

“Should it be a bit softer? I feel the previous batch of double crab buns was a little lacking in texture. Maybe a softer dough would pair better with the filling of the double crab buns.”

“Maybe. I’ll try it.”

“Qin Huai, try my sauce. Has it improved? I feel my thickening technique is a bit better this time compared to before. Is it more suitable for the double crab buns?” Zang Liang brought the crab roe sauce over to Qin Huai.

Qin Huai dipped his chopsticks in and tasted it, then nodded. “The flavor is a bit lighter than last time. This is definitely more suitable than before.”

“Then I’ll keep going in this direction!” Zang Liang happily ran back to continue thickening the sauce, his invisible tail practically wagging so fast it almost wrote the word joy on his face.

“Siyuan, keep kneading the dough. That batch of double crab buns should be coming out soon. I’ll go take a look. You should still have some processed sea cucumber left, right? I’ll try adjusting the seasoning for the next batch of filling—I’ve got a bit of an idea now.” Qin Huai put down his chopsticks and walked toward the steamer.

Zheng Siyuan continued kneading without looking up. “Alright, you handle the next batch. I’ll take care of the dough.”

Qin Huai quickly walked to the steamer, observed the steam, checked the time, waited another few dozen seconds, then put on gloves and lifted the top steamer lid.

Another batch of double crab buns was out.

This was already the 8th batch steamed this afternoon by the “double crab bun research team.”

Anyone who often makes buns knows that steamed buns require a long preparation process. Whether it’s preparing the filling, kneading the dough, or fermenting it, all of it takes a lot of time and effort.

But steaming is very quick—one drawer of buns only takes a few minutes.

Also, making buns in large quantities and small experimental batches are completely different. Right now, they were still in the testing phase, so each batch was small—about 25 buns per batch (any fewer would be hard to control). Because of this, production was very fast.

Even after 8 batches, it was only a little past 3 p.m.

There was also tasting, discussion, and review in between. Qin Huai, as the only “Qin Chef” of Yunzhong Canteen, even found time to make a batch of mung bean cakes, rice cakes, and red bean buns, and gave a few pointers to Pei Xing, who seemed to have suddenly “opened his meridians” since the morning and was cooking like a different person.

By the way, Pei Xing was still making shumai—and they were selling very well.

Shumai is a very common, everyday, and inexpensive snack. The ones Pei Xing usually made in the morning would already sell out completely, let alone his “burst-level” version today.

Qin Huai knew a lot of pastries, so he didn’t often sell shumai during breakfast. Chen An, the breakfast cook, did make shumai, but his were average—really just average, far worse than Pei Xing’s. So compared to other breakfast items, shumai wasn’t very popular before.

Recently, some new apprentices from Zhiwei Restaurant also helped with breakfast, but honestly, most of them were still not as good as Pei Xing, and none of them specialized in shumai.

This made Pei Xing’s shumai stand out tremendously today—so much so that it could be described as wildly popular. It was probably the most successful day since he started working at Yunzhong Canteen.

Although Qin Huai felt the popularity was partly because of the low price (same as Chen An’s shumai), for the sake of his loyal employee’s confidence, he chose not to say it out loud.

After working with Pei Xing and Li Hua for so long, Qin Huai had already figured out their personalities.

Li Hua looked quiet and introverted, but in reality he was just calm, not fond of trouble. A mature worker—diligent, hardworking, motivated, and tolerant of coworkers like Pei Xing. An excellent employee.

Pei Xing, on the other hand, looked cheerful, but was actually a bit fragile inside. His confidence was mostly a front to hide his insecurity, otherwise he wouldn’t be gritting his teeth in the kitchen corner every day.

Since there was a rare opportunity to boost an employee’s confidence, Qin Huai was more than willing to help.

For example, he secretly contacted Xu Tuqiang and asked him to tell the elderly residents of Yunzhong Community to praise Pei Xing’s shumai more—saying it was so good it was almost on par with Qin Chef’s.

Xu Tuqiang had already started organizing the seniors like scriptwriters, assigning each person a few lines so their praise wouldn’t repeat.

Now Pei Xing was still in the kitchen making shumai like crazy, completely unaware of the upcoming “surprise.” After finishing work… he would probably happily post on his alternate Weibo account.

As for how Qin Huai knew about his alt account…

He could only say his younger sister Qin Luo had a talent for being a “battlefield journalist.” During the New Year, while scrolling Weibo, she accidentally discovered Pei Xing’s alternate account praising Yunzhong Canteen’s “Little Chef Pei.”

At first, it seemed strange. Elderly customers who liked praising people usually did so on WeChat Moments, not Weibo (and they didn’t really use Weibo anyway). Office workers on Weibo rarely praised Pei Xing either—they mostly praised Qin Huai, posted recommendations, or joined giveaways.

So Qin Luo investigated further and noticed a post with a photo showing a familiar residential area. After analyzing the writing style, she deduced it was likely Pei Xing’s alt account—and immediately told Qin Huai.

From then on, the siblings occasionally checked his Weibo.

Pei Xing posted quite often, usually sharing his mood. For example, Qin Huai had noticed from his posts that he had recently been feeling low and even considered quitting.

That was also why Qin Huai suddenly wanted shumai that morning.

Thinking this, Qin Huai skillfully used tongs to take the double crab buns out of the steamer and thought to himself:

Ah, I really am such a caring boss.

Then he carried the buns to Ou Yang, who was sitting in the back kitchen.

“Still have room?” he asked concernedly.

Ou Yang, upon hearing the word “eat,” instinctively burped and reluctantly nodded. “I can still manage one.”

Qin Huai knew his good brother had reached his limit.

As the officially designated taste tester, Ou Yang had a large appetite—but even that had limits.

Seven batches of double crab buns meant seven buns eaten, plus breakfast, plus shumai, plus lunch… Qin Huai felt that being able to survive until the 8th batch was already a miracle.

Of course, Qin Huai never expected Ou Yang to provide insightful feedback. All he needed was one answer:

Does this bun taste more like a bun, or more like a dish?

If it tasted more like a dish—it was a failure. If it couldn’t be distinguished—it was a minor failure. If it tasted more like a bun—it was a success.

So far, the double crab bun project was not successful, because Ou Yang’s answers were always honest… and very useful.

“After this batch, you can take some back and eat as a late-night snack. I won’t delay your business,” Qin Huai said thoughtfully. “Tomorrow at noon, eat less and join us for Zang Liang’s private kitchen test. Save your stomach for tasting.”

Ou Yang was so moved he almost cried. “Can I order dishes?”

“Not a chance.”

His tears immediately stopped flowing.

He picked up the bun and took a small bite.

It was obvious he was already very full—he couldn’t even take big bites anymore.

Chew.

Slow chewing. Swallow.

Qin Huai watched him, waiting for his comment.

“This bun… hard to say. I wouldn’t say it doesn’t feel like a dish, but it also doesn’t feel like an ordinary bun. There’s a bit of what you said—that ‘dish-like’ flavor. But compared to before… I still think it leans more toward a bun now.”

A positive review.

“Take some of this batch home then. Night snack?” Qin Huai asked.

“Sure, sure. I’m actually going to my parents’ place tonight—I’ll bring these buns over for them.” Ou Yang said happily. “Last time I borrowed a movie card from my mom, I’ll go get a couple more this time.”

Qin Huai: “……”

“Damn, bro, your milk tea shop is already making so much money, and you’re still casually ‘bringing things home’ from your parents?”

As expected of you.

“By the way, does your family still have those amusement park summer passes? This summer, Luoluo will probably stay in Shanshi. I’m worried she’ll be stuck in tutoring every day and won’t want to go. I was thinking of getting her a summer pass for the amusement park so she can relax and go have some fun sometimes.”

“Amusement park summer pass? No problem, leave it to me. I’ll definitely ‘bring it over’ before summer break!” Ou Yang patted his chest and guaranteed. “My mom loves applying for memberships. If there’s a card she doesn’t apply for, she feels uncomfortable. Do you still want hair salon cards? I heard my mom got a bunch more recently. If you want, I can bring a couple over too.”

“…Yes.”

After finishing the last bite of the bun, Ou Yang directly packed up the remaining 24 double crab buns and carried them away, marching off triumphantly back to his milk tea shop to shake drinks.

Zheng Siyuan was still kneading dough.

Qin Huai didn’t go adjust the filling, because the 9th batch of buns was almost ready.

When the 9th batch came out, Qin Huai quickly scooped out 25 buns again and brought them to Tan Weian.

Tan Weian was making osmanthus cake.

Although his favorite snacks were crab-roe-based ones—crab roe buns, crab roe shumai, crab roe noodles, crab roe rice—his best specialty was actually pastries, especially osmanthus cake.

However, he rarely made it in front of Qin Huai.

According to Tan Weian himself, his osmanthus cake had already reached the highest level he could currently achieve. His proficiency and mastery were already maxed out, so there wasn’t much need to keep practicing it.

What he did have was a “treasure bag” full of pastry recipes. Instead of spending time reinforcing osmanthus cake, he preferred to browse his recipes and practice whatever he felt like. That was why he always actively joined Qin Huai’s various research groups—he was currently in a “random experimentation” phase.

A true privileged connection really was this willful.

But today, Tan Weian had been making osmanthus cake the entire time and hadn’t participated in any discussions about the double crab buns.

“Taste this. Batch nine.” Qin Huai, knowing Tan Weian had no free hands, directly fed him a bun.

Tan Weian didn’t hesitate. He took a big bite, chewed a couple times, and swallowed the slightly hot bun with a hiss, then said vaguely, “Much better than the previous batches.”

“But it still feels a bit off. Should the dough be softer?”

“And the filling—did you adjust it or did Zheng Siyuan?”

When it came to tasting pastries, Tan Weian was quite good—at least 50 streets ahead of Ou Yang.

“This batch’s filling was still adjusted by Zheng Siyuan. I’ll handle the next batch,” Qin Huai explained.

Tan Weian nodded, then glanced at where Ou Yang had been sitting earlier and realized he was gone.

“Ou Yang’s full now, right? Then I’ll be the next taster?”

“Are you sure you can handle it?” Qin Huai asked.

“Yeah, but I don’t eat as much as him. I already had lunch too—three batches max.”

“That’s enough. You take three batches, I take three batches, Zheng Siyuan and Zang Liang take three batches each. That should about cover this afternoon.”

Qin Huai arranged everything clearly.

Then he noticed Tan Weian still absorbed in making osmanthus cake and couldn’t help asking, “Why are you suddenly making so much osmanthus cake today?”

Qin Huai thought he knew Tan Weian well—this wasn’t his usual behavior.

As a well-known “lazy guy” from Zhiwei Restaurant, Tan Weian normally only did what was required and avoided extra work whenever possible.

Today’s tasks didn’t include him much. Normally he would just taste and observe the double crab bun project, maybe knead a bit of dough as backup.

But instead, he was quietly making pastries.

That didn’t feel like him at all.

Tan Weian gritted his teeth slightly.

“I can’t figure it out,” he said, full of confusion. “Why is it normal for me not to understand that ‘feeling’ you’re talking about?”

“At the beginning, wasn’t everyone confused?”

Qin Huai: ?

“Why is it that now everyone understands it, but I still don’t?”

“Even Pei Xing gets it. He’s already had a breakthrough. Why am I the only one still clueless? Is that reasonable?”

Qin Huai: “……”

“This…” Qin Huai didn’t know how to comfort him.

Honestly, Tan Weian wasn’t bad at all. He also didn’t lack expert guidance.

With Master Tan’s reputation, if Tan Weian didn’t understand something at Zhiwei Restaurant, he could ask any senior chef and they’d explain it to him.

Qin Huai had never really planned to “teach” Tan Weian. Their interactions were more discussions and exchanges.

Even though Tan Weian’s skill level was below Qin Huai and Zheng Siyuan, his knowledge was broad and solid, with strong theoretical understanding.

Qin Huai hadn’t expected him to care about something like this.

He literally had a “treasure bag,” and yet he was getting hung up on “feeling”?

“So you…” Qin Huai started.

“I’ll figure it out myself. Call me if needed.”

“Alright.” Qin Huai decided not to disturb him and returned to the workstation to think about adjusting the filling.

Just then, Zheng Siyuan finished kneading the dough and called Qin Huai over to check whether the softness was appropriate.

Qin Huai thought it was fine.

“Why would Tan Weian be stimulated by Pei Xing?” Qin Huai couldn’t help asking.

Zheng Siyuan gave him a speechless look, as if saying: Are you really clueless or pretending?

“Why do you think it’s Pei Xing?”

“Isn’t it? This morning Pei Xing improved rapidly, then Tan Weian suddenly started making osmanthus cake nonstop. And he just said it himself.”

“He’s being stimulated by you.”

“You went back to Guangdong for a few days—your thickening technique improved, your knife skills and heat control broke through. You say a few words to Zang Liang, and Zang Liang gets enlightenment.”

“You talk to Pei Xing, and he breaks through.”

“Among us, Tan Weian is the one who talks the most. He usually just stands there talking during practice instead of moving his hands. He talks to you the most—but he’s the one making the least progress.”

“So tell me, who exactly do you think is stimulating him?”

Qin Huai: “……”

Wait, hold on—how are we calculating this?!

Qin Huai scratched his head.

“But I really think his osmanthus cake is already at his current limit. It’s hard to improve further.”

“Should I give him my mung bean cake recipe so he can try leveling up with that?”