AGN -Chapter 369 Does Riding a Roller Coaster Really Work That Well?

“Buns are here!”

Twenty-eight buns, stacked layer by layer, perfectly filling two large plates.

Qin Huai steadily carried the two plates of buns over to Shi Dadan and placed them on a small table. Shi Dadan was sitting on Ou Yang’s small stool. Because he was taller, stronger, and also heavier than Ou Yang, he looked a bit like an adult squeezing into a child’s chair, giving off a slightly cramped and pitiful vibe.

“Want me to get you another chair?” Qin Huai asked.

Ou Yang’s stool was originally a low small bench. Ou Yang liked to half-squat when eating, leaning forward slightly—it felt more comfortable and relaxed. Shi Dadan clearly wasn’t used to that. Sitting upright on the low stool, he looked a little tense, not knowing where to put his hands or feet.

“No need, no need.” Shi Dadan’s attention was completely locked onto the buns. He instinctively swallowed. “Anywhere to sit is fine.”

As soon as he finished speaking, he immediately reached out, grabbed a bun, and shoved it into his mouth.

One bite—he ate more than half of it in a single go.

A textbook example of devouring food.

Fast, rough, but intensely satisfying.

Qin Huai had already seen this kind of eating style at Cao Guixiang’s house. Shi Dadan’s way of eating rice was like a storm sweeping through everything—sitting at the same table with him meant that in the blink of an eye, a whole dish could disappear. Eating with him felt like a race against time.

Now seeing him eat buns, Qin Huai realized Shi Dadan had actually been holding back before.

Eating with chopsticks was, in a way, inefficient for him. Picking dishes, lifting bowls—it all slowed him down. Too many steps.

But buns were different.

One hand, one grab, straight into the mouth. No extra actions to slow him down.

The only thing limiting his speed… was his stomach capacity.

Qin Huai was starting to feel a bit hungry watching him.

He was already quite full. Tasting the meat filling had filled him up, and while steaming the buns he had drunk three cups of tea.

Originally, he only intended to sip a little, but the tea turned out unexpectedly good, and his mouth had also become dry from tasting so much filling.

Three cups later, he was completely full.

So full that even the smell of steamed wheat drifting from the baskets made him want to burp.

That was also why, even though he was surprised by the A-grade crab roe pork buns, and a little tempted, he didn’t take a single bite.

Eating an A-grade bun while this full felt like a waste.

He had originally planned to eat later when he felt better, or even wait for the next batch.

But Shi Dadan made it look too good.

Even though he was eating quickly and messily—almost like a cow chewing peonies—if you took a high-resolution camera and froze every frame, each one would look like a close-up advertisement shot.

When the bun was whole in his hand, it was white, soft, and perfectly shaped, every pleat neat and uniform—like a textbook example that could be printed on a pastry guide cover.

When he took a big bite, the sheer size of his mouth revealed the layers clearly: skin, filling, and juice.

The crab roe pork filling wasn’t overly juicy in a dramatic, overflowing way like in commercials. But the filling itself was beautiful.

Fine-textured meat, bright crab roe, and a mixture that had been stir-fried, thickened, and even mixed with egg before steaming. The layers of color and texture were distinct—like a dish made with precise wok techniques, even though it was wrapped in a steamed bun.

But what was most appetizing… was Shi Dadan’s expression.

He truly loved carbohydrates, truly loved buns and steamed bread—this was clearly not an act.

His face was almost intoxicated.

So intoxicated that it made people forget how much he was eating, or that he had already eaten sixteen buns and still showed no signs of slowing down.

Instead, the only thought left was: how can this be so good? Is this even a bun anymore? What exactly is in this thing?

Even Qin Huai was starting to doubt himself.

Is this really what I made?

Even an A-grade crab roe pork bun shouldn’t be this exaggerated, right?

That expression, that state, that appetite, that speed… it almost looked like he was eating something S-grade.

Could it be that crab roe and pork are just an especially perfect combination, making an A-grade dish feel like A+?

Qin Huai couldn’t help but take one bun himself and bite down.

First of all—it was definitely good.

Any A-grade pastry was already something that could captivate 99% of diners.

The remaining 1% were simply people who didn’t like it, like those who dislike coriander.

The flaws he had noticed while tasting the filling earlier had now become characteristics of the bun itself.

A very distinctive combination.

Very sharp.

You could clearly feel: this didn’t taste like a “traditional bun filling.”

It wasn’t as oily as expected, slightly too refined, even a bit on the dry side—but it was good.

Not only good on its own, but also good when combined with the dough.

It stood there openly telling you: Yes, I’m different. I don’t follow the usual rules of bun fillings. I’m not like other crab roe pork buns—but I still taste good.

Good. No further explanation needed.

But at the same time, it had flaws.

Its biggest strength was also its weakness: it defied expectations of what a bun filling should be.

It was so unique that while delicious, it felt slightly out of place.

It made people think: this is great, but it would be even better if it were a little less refined, a little juicier, a little more “bun-like.”

In those thoughts, Qin Huai began to taste what an S-grade version might be like.

Even though he had never eaten an S-grade pastry before, he felt like he was beginning to understand what it meant.

He looked at Shi Dadan again, puzzled.

Was it his own expectations that were too high? Was he too full? Was that why it didn’t taste as amazing as it looked?

More precisely—it didn’t taste as good as watching Shi Dadan eat it.

Maybe when Shi Dadan used to run his restaurant, it was precisely because he sat at the entrance eating so happily that customers felt the food must be incredible and couldn’t help but walk in.

Now Qin Huai even suspected: if Shi Dadan sat at the entrance of Yunzhong Canteen eating buns, any passerby would be tempted to come in and buy some.

Maybe it wasn’t the food.

Maybe it was the eater.

Qin Huai chewed again carefully and confirmed: yes, it really didn’t taste as good as it looked when Shi Dadan was eating it.

“Is it really that good?” he couldn’t help asking.

“Yes, it is,” Shi Dadan replied while still devouring buns, speaking clearly despite eating fast. His eyes curved into happy slits, full of satisfaction and joy.

“Really very good.”

“This is the best crab roe pork bun I’ve ever eaten!”

“Even better than what Xu Nuo made back then!”

Qin Huai: ?

In the end, out of twenty-eight buns, Shi Dadan ate nineteen. Whether it was the food at the amusement park affecting his performance, or whether the “second life” of this foodie still wasn’t as strong as the first, he didn’t even break twenty.

“Burp.”

Shi Dadan patted his stomach in satisfaction.

“Xiao Qin, I think your bun skills are much better than your big tangyuan.”

“Can you make this bun again tomorrow?”

“I ate a bit too much at the amusement park today. Tomorrow morning I’ll come on an empty stomach—I can definitely eat twenty-five!”

Qin Huai: …

That really isn’t a target you need to set.

You guys from the “Feng (food spirit)” clan really express praise in such a strange way.

Out of 28 buns, Qin Huai ate 1, Shi Dadan ate 19, leaving 8.

Qin Huai didn’t waste the remaining eight either: An Youyou got 1, Su Qian got 1, Qin Congwen and Zhao Rong each got 1, Gu Li got 1, and the last three were taken by Shi Dadan for a newly made friend—

Elder Qian.

When Elder Qian saw those three buns, he was so moved he almost cried.

All this time guarding Yunzhong Canteen, Elder Qian had been actively promoting it—helping attract new customers, and when bored, randomly grabbing lucky diners on the first floor to teach them “snatching pastries techniques.”

To Elder Qian, this was simply what a loyal fan of Xiao Qin should do.

Although his appearance frequency was far lower than Xu Tuqiang, who was a named character, or Granny Ding, who still didn’t have a proper name but at least had a profession, Elder Qian never gave up.

He considered himself a leader among Yunzhong community diners—despite not actually living in Yunzhong community. He lived in the neighboring one.

As a “leader,” Elder Qian had always been quietly contributing, occasionally receiving rewards.

But never had he received such a sudden and delightful return.

Tears welling up, Elder Qian took a hard bite of the crab roe pork bun and immediately felt an indescribable deliciousness.

Not only the taste of the food—but also something on a deeper, emotional level.

He tasted friendship. He tasted gratitude. He tasted warmth and affection from a “brother” he had only just met a few dozen minutes ago, someone whose full name he didn’t even know—only that his surname was Shi.

As he ate, Elder Qian was almost in tears, his eyes narrowed in happiness.

From the kitchen, Qin Huai watched from afar: ?

Is it really that good?

Is the difference between eating normally and eating while completely full really that big?

Qin Huai, who rarely ate until he was full, silently decided: never taste pastries when overly full again. It ruins judgment.

He shook his head and went back to making crab roe pork buns.

Since he had gained some insight, he should press forward while the momentum was strong. The diners holding out at Yunzhong Canteen this afternoon were in for a blessing.

Soon, news spread through all the diner chat groups in Yunzhong Canteen: Xiao Qin had successfully mastered the crab roe buns again—but this version was different from the previous days.

The diners went wild with excitement.

They all understood Qin Huai’s habits too well: he gets bored quickly, changes things often, and abandons old items fast.

But when he has just fully mastered a dish, that is when he loves it the most—his most active phase, the highest production volume.

And also the final “discount period.”

It is the only time when diners can eat it endlessly.

This window is very short—like the tail of a shooting star. If you don’t sacrifice your wallet and indulge your appetite, once it passes, all that remains is regret.

Miss it and it’s your fault!

Everyone, what are you waiting for—go!

In an instant, Yunzhong Canteen was filled with office workers who had taken a few hours off for various reasons—or simply skipped work entirely. Each of them was waiting hungrily in line, ready to buy crab roe pork buns.

Meanwhile, Zang Liang and Tan Weian only learned that Qin Huai had achieved “great success” after getting off the roller coaster.

They would have found out one or two hours later, since they had muted all the group chats after joining them.

And they had truly been having fun at the amusement park.

They had checked almost every ride, including both modes of the carousel. In the end, after finishing everything, Zang Liang suggested going back for the roller coaster again—only to discover afterward that Qin Huai, who could accompany Qin Luo for five rides, was truly not ordinary.

He barely survived two rides, and even then, the second one was hours after the first.

Zang Liang sat on the same seat Qin Huai had sat on earlier, recovering, while sending messages to Zheng Siyuan asking where they were.

Tan Weian complained from the side:

“I told you not to ride it a second time. I already felt a bit nauseous after my first ride at noon. That roller coaster is too intense—you ate after lunch and still rode it, of course you’d throw up. Anyone who’s been to an amusement park with a girlfriend would know that.”

Zang Liang ignored him completely, because he saw something far more shocking.

“Holy crap holy crap holy crap holy crap holy crap holy crap—!!”

Tan Weian: ?

“Check the group chats!”

“Which group?”

“Any group! Just check!”

“Qin Huai made the double crab bun!”

“What do you mean he made it—he went back early, but how could he possibly—”

Then Tan Weian saw the messages.

“Holy crap!!”

“Jesus, everyone in the groups is saying Qin Huai’s crab roe buns are insanely good. He’s insane! I knew he was insane, but not THIS insane!”

“Look at the photos!”

“Damn, that line is insane—at this hour!”

“And so many delivery riders too!”

“He really made the double crab bun?!”

“He said he wanted to go back and make buns—I thought it was just his pastry addiction acting up, I didn’t know he had a breakthrough! He was with us all these days, and he even came to the amusement park today! He just came off the roller coaster and rested a bit!”

“How did he have another breakthrough?”

Tan Weian’s face was full of shock and confusion—like: even if you’re a genius, you can’t be THIS much of a genius.

Zang Liang suddenly sprang up, startling him.

“Let’s go, ride the roller coaster four more times!”

Tan Weian: ?

Was he going insane from stimulation?

“Qin Huai rode it five times at noon and had a breakthrough—we’ll do five times in a row too! Hurry! If we rest too long, that previous ride won’t count!”

Tan Weian: !

His face was filled with a heroic sense of doom.

“Fine! If it doesn’t count, we’ll ride five more times! One more than Qin Huai!”

“No wonder Qin Huai said he came to the amusement park for inspiration—it actually works.”

“So this is what they mean by folk remedies curing major problems?”