AGN -Chapter 377 Four Happiness Roll

The plane had no internet connection, and the person sitting next to Qin Huai happened, quite rarely, to be a demon creature he could talk freely with about anything. After takeoff, Qin Huai unusually did not immediately open the game interface to watch the tutorial video on Jiangmi rice cake, but instead started chatting with Shi Dadan.

After spending so many days with Shi Dadan, Qin Huai had discovered something: when talking to him, you had to ask the right questions.

If you asked him something too vague, he couldn’t explain it clearly. It wasn’t that Shi Dadan was deliberately hiding things, nor was it because he was stupid. The Shi Dadan from his first life was visibly not very bright, but in this life he was quite normal. Most of the time, he simply didn’t mention things because he didn’t realize they were important points.

Take Qin Huai reading his memories as an example. Once Shi Dadan learned which memory Qin Huai had seen, he could carefully and thoroughly explain everything afterward—what kind of person Xu Nuo was, his thoughts when buying the recipe for the Double Crab Bun, and so on. But he would completely forget to mention the most crucial detail: that the crab roe pork bun Xu Nuo made at the end of his life was completely different from the original version.

Because in Shi Dadan’s understanding, his friend Xu Nuo was what mattered most. As for the pastries themselves, he didn’t really think about them much.

The same applied to other things.

For Shi Dadan in his first life, everything except Xu Nuo was unimportant. He was Xu Nuo’s acknowledged close friend. Wang Gensheng was also technically Xu Nuo’s friend, but Shi Dadan had never even met him (an accidental encounter at the cafeteria didn’t count), and he had no interest in him.

Because Shi Dadan simply didn’t care.

Back then, he didn’t care about coworkers, or random passersby. The only things he cared about were what the cafeteria was serving each day, what Xu Nuo invited him to eat at night, and Xu Nuo himself.

For a human, this kind of behavior would seem absurd, but for a spirit creature, it was perfectly reasonable.

“Old Shi, besides the crab roe pork bun, are there any other pastries Xu Nuo made that you think were especially delicious?” Qin Huai asked directly.

When talking to Shi Dadan, you had to be straightforward—no beating around the bush. If you were too indirect, he wouldn’t understand anyway.

Whenever Shi Dadan didn’t understand something, he would show his signature honest, slightly puzzled expression.

Hearing the question, Shi Dadan swallowed the bun in his mouth and thought carefully.

“I think everything Xu Nuo made was delicious,” he said. “If I had to pick something special… does the Four Happiness Roll count?”

“Four Happiness Roll?” Qin Huai had never heard of it before. There were Four Happiness dumplings, Four Happiness tangyuan, and pastries often used auspicious names like “four happiness” or “eight treasures.” He had even suspected there might be something like Four Happiness buns—but instead of buns, he was hearing about a Four Happiness Roll.

“What is it? Like a flower roll?” Qin Huai asked.

“Maybe. The Zheng Da guy should know. The state-run restaurant sells it every year during the New Year. It looks similar to a flower roll, but also completely different.”

“It’s rolled like a flower roll, layer by layer, but instead of being one big roll, it’s a circle divided into four small rolls. Like a flattened flower roll that’s been cut open—the small rolls inside look like cloud patterns. Yes, cloud patterns. I once asked Xu Nuo what those patterns were called.”

“Ruyi roll?” Qin Huai guessed.

“Maybe. It looks kind of like the cloud patterns on the Ruyi rolls that Gu Li makes every day.”

“Then this roll has filling. The upper half is filled with scallions, the lower half with minced meat. Sometimes pork mince, sometimes ham mince.”

“Xu Nuo said that normally it should be made with ham mince, but ham is expensive. The state-run restaurant sold it during New Year just for good luck, so they kept it cheap. Most of the time it was mostly scallions with just a little meat, brushed with extra oil so it had a bit of meat flavor.”

Hearing this, Qin Huai roughly understood what it was. It looked like a simple filled flower roll, but in reality, it was extremely difficult to make.

Because of the Ruyi-shaped cloud pattern.

Just that pattern alone made it very difficult.

Why was Gu Li still practicing Ruyi rolls after so many years? Because he still couldn’t master the cloud pattern. Dough fermentation involves many uncontrollable factors. Unlike frying or baking, steaming is the hardest to control.

That was why decorative steamed buns were considered art.

The Four Happiness Roll was the same.

In some sense, it was even harder, because it required not only precise shaping, but also control over flavor.

Half scallion, half ham filling, combined with such a high-level design—this seemingly simple filling must have had a deeper purpose.

Shi Dadan had eaten countless good things across two lifetimes. The fact that he remembered this dish so clearly—its name, shape, and ingredients—meant it must have been exceptionally delicious.

“I think I understand,” Qin Huai nodded. “So Xu Nuo liked it a lot and learned to make it himself. Did he learn the Four Happiness Roll from Master Jing?”

“Probably,” Shi Dadan said. “I’m not sure. By the time I met Xu Nuo, he already knew how to make it. I heard from Brother Liu in our transport team that it was very troublesome, so Master Jing only made it during New Year.”

“It was sold very cheaply, but limited to one per person, just for good luck. When I first joined the team, Brother Liu even reminded me to buy one.”

“But I gave all my monthly money and ration tickets to Xu Nuo, so I told him in advance to save me one.”

“Xu Nuo told me I didn’t need to go to his house for New Year’s dinner. He said Master Jing’s skills were better, but since the restaurant used ordinary pork instead of ham to keep costs down, it wasn’t as good. His family had ham, and he would make a lot every year because his grandmother loved it.”

“Also, Factory Director Xu wasn’t actually stingy. He just didn’t like Xu Nuo skipping university and not working in the factory, so he deliberately controlled his ration tickets. But every New Year, he would still find ways to get ham through trades or favors.”

“In the end, until the year Xu Nuo and I died, Xu Nuo’s family always had plenty of Four Happiness Rolls during New Year.”

“I’ve eaten Master Jing’s version before. I think it’s not as good as Xu Nuo’s.”

“Maybe because pork mince just doesn’t taste as good as ham mince.”

For Shi Dadan to say Master Jing’s version wasn’t as good as Xu Nuo’s—that was extremely high praise. Even with friendship bias, it was still a very strong compliment.

As he spoke, Shi Dadan suddenly seemed a little hungry. He smacked his lips, glanced at the unfinished buns, but didn’t feel like eating more. He swallowed and said quietly:

“I had completely forgotten about it, but now that I think about it…”

“Ever since I was reborn, I haven’t eaten Four Happiness Rolls during New Year again.”

At the same time, a system notification rang in Qin Huai’s mind.

“Ding. Congratulations, player has discovered a new side quest. Please check your game interface.”

Qin Huai: ?

So this is how side quests are triggered?

Turns out Shi Dadan could actually produce a lot of side quests—he just forgot them if he didn’t think of them.

What kind of trigger mechanism is this?

“Wait a moment, I triggered your side quest. Let me check it first,” Qin Huai said quietly, opening the game panel.

[Side Quest]:

Shi Dadan’s Desire: As a not-so-smart and somewhat forgetful deity beast (Dangkang), Shi Dadan has many beautiful memories and flavors hidden in his past that he can no longer recall. But when these flavors of memory surface in his heart without reaching his tongue, he feels a trace of disappointment. He longs to taste them again. Perhaps this is also one of the reasons he remains in the human world. Please let Shi Dadan eat a Four Happiness Roll that satisfies him and fulfill his wish.

Quest Reward: [A fragment of Shi Dadan’s memory]

After reading the quest details, Qin Huai found it simple and clear—much better than those cryptic riddles before.

This is what the protagonist of a novel should be triggering.

“What quest did you trigger?” Shi Dadan asked curiously.

“A side quest to make Four Happiness Rolls for you,” Qin Huai said briefly. He adjusted his posture and straightened his back. “Old Shi, don’t focus on this quest for now. Before that, I have another question for you.”

“Quick, think carefully—are there any other pastries you remember very clearly, something especially delicious that you still want to eat? Think hard!”

Shi Dadan: ?

Until they landed, Shi Dadan still couldn’t come up with anything comparable to the Four Happiness Roll. He did mention a few pastry names, but none of them triggered any side quests—clearly, he didn’t actually crave them that much.

Still, Qin Huai hadn’t gained nothing. At least Shi Dadan knew this pastry very well—and also knew who could make it:

Zheng Da.

When Shi Dadan had contact with Zheng Da, Zheng Da—being talkative and fond of chatting—had once mentioned to him that Master Jing was forcing him to practice making Four Happiness Rolls. At the time, young apprentice Chef Zheng had been quite troubled and frustrated by it.

After all, to nearby residents, the Four Happiness Roll symbolized New Year’s festivity. If you failed at making fermented wine buns, you might only get scolded a couple of times—but if you failed at Four Happiness Rolls, you would be scolded harshly.

From the time Qin Huai had known Zheng Da, he had never once seen him make Four Happiness Rolls (of course, Zheng Da never actively made any high-difficulty pastries, especially ones that looked simple but were actually extremely difficult and thankless). So Zheng Da either wasn’t very good at it—or didn’t like it.

The key information Shi Dadan could provide was this: the ham-minced version of the Four Happiness Roll tasted much better than the pork-minced version. The ham version was the “true answer.”

That was enough.

Next, all Qin Huai needed to do was meet Zheng Da at the high-speed rail station and give him a humble, bright, and pleasing smile.

What Qin Huai didn’t know was that his sudden advance notice of a surprise visit to Suzhou had disrupted many people’s plans.

For example, Zheng Da had rushed back overnight from Sanya, hired cleaners to tidy up the house Qin Huai had previously lived in, and the couple Gong Liang had moved again—back next door to Qin Huai. When asked why, the answer was simple: they liked the atmosphere of the old residential area.

By the way, Zheng Da had already bought the apartment Qin Huai used to live in.

Zheng Da even arrived an hour early at the station to pick him up.

His emotions were extremely complicated.

He knew very well that Qin Huai was very unlikely to become his disciple. This thought had appeared countless times in his mind, and he had confirmed it countless times. He had tried many times, and given up many times—repeating the cycle like someone obsessively re-evaluating a crush’s feelings, knowing the answer deep down but refusing to accept it.

Zheng Da knew his own strengths and weaknesses clearly. At first, he had indeed considered “getting Qin Huai as a disciple before he saw too much of the world,” but after truly understanding Qin Huai’s character and witnessing his talent, that thought disappeared.

He felt it was too despicable. At times, he even felt unworthy of being Qin Huai’s master.

But he still really wanted to be his master. A true gem does not lose its shine, but someone still has to be the first to wipe off its dust.

Zheng Da had never imagined that “appreciating talent” would one day appear in him.

After all, in the culinary world, his reputation had never been very good. People associated him with the smell of money.

Master Zhou of Zhiwei House had never looked kindly upon him. It wasn’t until Zheng Da reformed his recipes in recent years—mass-producing pastries that were previously unscalable, improving taste while lowering prices, and crushing many mediocre shops—that Zhou finally began to view him differently.

Even so, Zhou still didn’t like him much. He believed Zheng Da had the ability to become a world-renowned chef if he were more diligent.

In short, Zhou thought Zheng Da was lazy.

Zheng Da never cared about that. He never expected to make a name for himself in the culinary world. Every New Year, when burning incense for his master, he would even apologize for not carrying forward his teacher’s legacy.

It was only after meeting Qin Huai that he truly began to consider returning to the culinary world.

But it was only a consideration.

He had been lazy for too long and couldn’t easily change.

Yet knowing something and facing it were two different things.

When Zheng Siyuan told him Qin Huai might already have a master—one who was more responsible, more skilled, more selfless, more suitable, and even possessed many more recipes and secret techniques—Zheng Da couldn’t accept it at first.

He had been the one who discovered this gem first.

He was happy that the gem had found a better place—but at the same time, unwilling.

He wanted to ask: Is your current master treating you well? Really that well? Is it truly better than me?

He also wanted to ask: When you see me again, will you still call me “Master Zheng”?

With such complicated feelings, Zheng Da arrived at the station an hour early and rehearsed his words for a full hour.

Then he saw Qin Huai dragging his suitcase toward him with a smile, waving as he approached.

“Master Zheng!”

His gem called him in that familiar tone.

At that moment, Zheng Da felt overwhelmed with emotion.

“Master Zheng, I heard you can make Four Happiness Rolls. I’ve become very interested in this pastry recently—do you have time to guide me?”

Zheng Da: ?!

FOUR HAPPINESS ROLLS!

At that moment, many unpleasant memories surged up—his early disastrous attempts, the mocking neighbors, and the family members who all questioned how he could ruin such an auspicious New Year pastry.

Oh, that damned, thankless pastry—so simple in appearance, yet so difficult in practice.

Who? Who leaked that he knew how to make Four Happiness Rolls?!

He had clearly only ever made them secretly at home over the years, not even telling Huang Shengli.

Zheng Da instantly turned his gaze toward his biological son—Zheng Siyuan.

Zheng Siyuan said calmly, “On the train, Qin Huai asked casually. I just said Dad, you know how to make it.”

“You do know how to make it. I don’t.”

Qin Huai, who never acted without certainty, had casually brought up the pastry on the train—and got exactly the answer he wanted from Zheng Siyuan.

Zheng Da: You unfilial son!