AGN -Chapter 376 Heading to Gusu (Suzhou)

That night, Zheng Siyuan called Huang Shengli to inform him that Qin Huai wanted to come to Huang Ji for two days to sell Double Crab Buns.

Huang Shengli naturally welcomed the idea. He patted his chest and said his waist had recovered very well—so long as the work wasn’t too physically intense, he could easily keep going for another five years.

Last time Qin Huai came to Huang Ji, Huang Shengli was still recovering from his back injury and couldn’t fully display his skills. This time, he was determined to personally cook several tables of dishes and let Qin Huai experience the true craftsmanship of “Master Huang.”

Meanwhile, Zheng Da was shocked when he heard that Qin Huai had actually developed the Double Crab Bun. He immediately ended his vacation, booked a return flight on the spot, and flew back overnight, then transferred to a high-speed train back to Gusu.

“Siyuan, are you sure you actually made Double Crab Buns? And without using fresh crab roe?”

“That’s impossible. It doesn’t make sense! With that level of difficulty, let alone the three of you—even thirty of you combined couldn’t possibly make it. Even your dad fails at it often.”

“I secretly practiced Double Crab Buns in Sanya for a whole month, and I still couldn’t stabilize the results. Otherwise I would’ve flown back long ago to guide Little Qin. You three just took the recipe and tried to figure it out blindly—how could you possibly succeed so quickly? Are you really sure that’s Double Crab Bun?”

Zheng Da, who had booked his ticket in shock overnight, asked this over the phone.

Zheng Siyuan’s voice was full of speechlessness: “So Dad, you stayed in Sanya all this time and didn’t come back—not because you were on vacation, but because you were afraid that secretly practicing Double Crab Buns in Gusu would be discovered by Uncle Master and reported to me, so you ran to Sanya specifically to practice?”

“No wonder Mom said on WeChat that traveling with you wasn’t fun—you’ve been spending every day in the kitchen pretending it’s a vacation.”

At this point, Zheng Da didn’t bother hiding it anymore. In fact, he didn’t care at all.

“I was just trying to surprise you and Xiao Qin. Besides, Sanya is great—fresh seafood right by the sea. Anyway, that’s not the point. The point is—did you really make it? Are you sure it’s Double Crab Bun and not single-crab bun, crab roe bun, or sea cucumber bun?”

Zheng Siyuan felt like he finally understood—his father had completely lost it too.

Considering how many people had recently gone a bit “off,” he accepted it calmly and said:

“It should be. We slightly modified the original recipe, but the taste is indeed good. It still follows the concept of Double Crab Bun.”

There was a long silence on the other end of the line.

“Dad, stop struggling. Give up,” Zheng Siyuan said. “You’re not going to be able to take Qin Huai as your disciple. Qin Huai probably won’t acknowledge you as his master either—and he already seems to have one.”

“Who?!”

“The one from Guangdong province. I occasionally see Qin Huai video-calling her and calling her ‘Master.’ Her cooking is very good, and she’s also generous—she even agreed to let Qin Huai pass her thickening technique to Zang Liang. Just on that alone, you’ve already lost.”

“You don’t even have any secret techniques.”

Zheng Da: …

Rebellious son, truly rebellious!

He angrily hung up the phone and posted three emotional posts on his Moments that night.

Of course, Qin Huai never knew about this little episode, and Zheng Siyuan also didn’t bother telling him that his father wasn’t actually on vacation in Sanya—but secretly training himself and still falling behind everyone else, making his effort feel wasted.

As his son, Zheng Siyuan still had to save his father’s dignity.

Meanwhile, Qin Huai was busy preparing for his trip to Gusu.

This time, he planned to stay there for about ten days.

Besides making Double Crab Buns to complete Wang Gensheng’s side quest, Qin Huai also wanted to improve his relationship with Gong Liang. Since Gong Liang rarely leaves Gusu and usually only travels to Beijing to eat at Fen Garden, Qin Huai had no choice but to go there himself if he wanted to build rapport.

A ten-day trip meant a lot of preparation.

First, he had to prepare Qin Luo’s diet plan.

He couldn’t let her eat too well. That girl would take an inch and demand a mile—easily getting complacent. Previously, food-based motivation had worked well for her studies, but now, with so many temptations at Yunzhong cafeteria, she could easily slack off again.

Su Qian’s cooking was good, Gu Li’s golden silk shumai was decent, and the other apprentices at Zhiwei House made all kinds of snacks. If Qin Luo were left unchecked, she would quickly lose discipline and her grades would drop again.

In addition, he also had to take care of Ou Yang’s meals.

Ou Yang had contributed tremendously to the Double Crab Bun project. During the early stages of experimentation, he even skipped normal meals just to keep tasting buns all day long—his dedication was truly moving.

As his good brother, Qin Huai couldn’t just finish the buns and leave him behind.

But Ou Yang was also in a critical career growth phase—his handmade lemon tea shop business was booming. He couldn’t possibly take ten days off just to travel and eat well.

So, to thank his friend for his help, Qin Huai decided to prepare batches of raw dough for Double Crab Buns, fermented buns, and elm-bark steamed buns in advance so Ou Yang could eat them slowly until he returned.

But all of that was minor.

The real problem Qin Huai needed to solve was how to trick Wang Gensheng into going to Gusu.

He had casually said before that “Little Qin needs him,” but in practice, he still needed a proper excuse.

After thinking for a whole day, Qin Huai came up with an excellent reason.

He told Wang Gensheng that his accounts at Huang Ji hadn’t been settled yet.

And in fact, they really hadn’t.

During his months at Huang Ji, Qin Huai had made countless pastries.

At first, there was no fixed salary—only profit sharing, since he was officially there to “learn,” just under the guise of exchange.

Back then, nobody expected Huang Ji to make money from him. But later, business unexpectedly boomed.

Because things improved too quickly, the profit-sharing agreement was never properly finalized—though neither side really cared at the time.

Qin Huai didn’t lack money, and Huang Ji was not a place that defaulted on wages. More importantly, what Qin Huai learned there couldn’t be measured in money.

Plus, the young heir of the restaurant had limited capability, which meant the financial accounts between Qin Huai and Huang Ji were never fully settled.

In the end, Huang Anyao simply transferred a sum far exceeding what Qin Huai should have received directly into his corporate account.

When Qin Huai saw the transfer, he was stunned—and even began to understand why Huang Ji, despite being a fairly successful high-end restaurant, had started to decline after its head chef’s health problems and eventually ran into financial difficulties.

It could only be said that the young heir had contributed greatly.

Over the years, he probably hadn’t been scammed a little.

Qin Huai also told Wang Gensheng the truth directly, saying that he felt this profit-sharing arrangement was inappropriate. Huang Ji had already helped him a great deal—he couldn’t just take so much money for nothing. Public matters were public, private matters were private; everything should be settled properly, down to the exact amount it should be.

As for the exact calculation, Yunzhong Cafeteria didn’t really have a professional accountant. So Little Qin Chef had no choice but to seek help from Wang Gensheng—an accountant who hadn’t committed a fake entry or miscalculation in forty years, whose reputation was spotless and whose reliability was unquestioned.

In return, Little Qin Chef would treat Accountant Wang to a good meal at Huang Ji.

The upright Wang Gensheng couldn’t possibly refuse such a request. He immediately patted his chest and said the matter was on him. Even though he had long since retired, his basic accounting skills had never left him.

“Don’t worry, I’ll definitely go to Gusu! I’ll help you settle this account clearly and properly. Not a single extra cent from Huang Ji will be taken. Everything will be calculated exactly as it should be—and any excess money will be returned!”

And just like that, Wang Gensheng was convinced by Qin Huai to join the trip to Gusu. He even brought three pairs of reading glasses, worried he wouldn’t be able to see clearly when doing the accounts.

So, Qin Huai spent three days preparing at Yunzhong Cafeteria, and also sold special-priced Double Crab Buns for three days straight. Regular and new customers alike enjoyed a rare “eat-all-you-want Double Crab Bun experience”—and then he suddenly disappeared.

When people like Xu Tuqiang and the others saw the announcement from Yunzhong Cafeteria saying that Little Qin Chef would be going to Gusu for a 10-day exchange due to work, they didn’t feel sadness, disappointment, or even surprise. There was only a calm sense of “as expected.”

It was hard to describe this feeling—maybe they were just used to it.

There was a sense that he simply couldn’t be kept. The outside world was always more attractive—whether Gusu or Guangdong, Little Qin Chef was never someone who would stay long at Yunzhong Cafeteria.

But it didn’t matter. He would come back sooner or later. Just wait. Gusu and Guangdong couldn’t keep him either—Yunzhong Cafeteria was his true home.

Honestly, a “10-day exchange”? No one believed it. If he came back within 13 days, that would already be impressive.

Three days later, Qin Huai and his group of six set off, boarding a flight to Shanghai.

Why six people? Because Shi Dadan had volunteered to go as well. As a financially free and successful man, Shi Dadan had far too much free time.

His business model was simple: raise some seafood and sell it, or go fishing and sell the catch. Money just came in naturally.

No business competition, no disasters to worry about—his only concerns were what to raise and whether to go fishing.

He hadn’t had enough of Double Crab Buns at Yunzhong Cafeteria, and since Qin Huai was heading to Gusu, the most idle man around naturally decided to follow along for more food.

Also, he wanted to visit Huang Ji. In Shi Dadan’s words, since reincarnation, he hadn’t returned to Gusu. But he still had many acquaintances there—Huang Shengli, Zheng Da, and even Gong Liang, whom he had met a few times in passing.

After so many years, he also somewhat missed Chef Jing’s cooking. In his first life, he had often eaten Chef Jing’s private meals together with Xu Nuo.

Now that he had come to terms with many things, and had the chance to revisit old places, of course he wanted to join the fun. Qin Huai also thought it was a good thing—Shi Dadan willing to go meant his inner knots and regrets were likely already resolved. After successfully passing his tribulation in this life, the chances of him remaining in the mortal world without another failure were even higher. This trip was good for him.

So the original five-person team became six.

Shi Dadan generously paid for everyone’s plane and train tickets and sat together with Qin Huai.

Before the plane even took off, Shi Dadan sighed:

“Just thinking about seeing Shengli and the others again, maybe even chatting with them a bit… I’m actually a little excited.”

Qin Huai asked curiously, “Were you very close with Master Huang and Master Zheng before?”

“Not really,” Shi Dadan shook his head. “From my first life, I was pretty dull. I couldn’t understand hidden meanings or react quickly, so I didn’t talk much to people—mostly just the truck crew.”

“I only knew Wang Gensheng was close with Xu Nuo, but I didn’t really interact with him. I might have seen him in the cafeteria, but I don’t remember.”

“Xu Nuo never told me he was a spirit either. Probably because he was afraid I’d mess things up. I really wasn’t very smart back then.”

“For Huang Shengli and Zheng Da, they might not have been very familiar with me, but from my perspective, they were among the people I interacted with the most.”

“After Xu Nuo bought the Double Crab Bun recipe, his parents strictly controlled his money. Sometimes he even had to sneak into state-run restaurants through windows just to get food. I was worried he’d break his legs, so for a while I helped him fetch meals. Because it had to be kept secret, we arranged covert exchanges. Chef Jing couldn’t show up, so it was usually Huang Shengli or Zheng Da who handed me the food containers. I think I was quite familiar with them.”

Qin Huai understood immediately—it was a “shared secret mission” kind of relationship.

“So after so many years without seeing them, will you still recognize them when you meet?” Qin Huai asked.

“Of course. I looked up their photos online. They’ve changed quite a bit. Huang Shengli was quite introverted back then, similar to me, not very talkative. I didn’t expect he’d end up taking so many apprentices.”

“Zheng Da was the opposite—very talkative. During exchanges, he often asked me about Xu Nuo’s situation. There were even rumors that Factory Director Xu had broken Xu Nuo’s legs, so people said his legs were broken more than ten times a month. Zheng Da often asked me if that was true.”

“I thought he’d take on many apprentices too, but he didn’t take any. He didn’t even stay as a chef—went into business instead.”

It was clear Shi Dadan had done his homework on their current lives.

Qin Huai found it very interesting, like hearing embarrassing stories of old acquaintances.

“Master Zheng said he arranged a car to pick us up at the train station. When we meet him, don’t slip up—you’re technically not supposed to know him right now,” Qin Huai reminded him.

“Of course,” Shi Dadan nodded. “I’m not like I was in my first life. I won’t make that mistake.”

He then took out a large bag of buns from his carry-on—a batch of Double Crab Buns Qin Huai had made the day before.

The buns were sealed in a plastic bag, slightly wet with condensation and already a bit cold.

Shi Dadan happily started eating.

“Want one? They’re just a bit cold,” he offered.

“No thanks,” Qin Huai waved it off. “You really do love buns, don’t you.”

“As long as it’s staple food, I love it,” Shi Dadan said through a mouthful. “And yours are all delicious, Little Qin. Really good.”