AGN -Chapter 403 Slacking Off

The Four Happiness Flower Rolls caused a huge sensation among the diners of Huangji. They were beautifully shaped, tasted excellent, and were also very affordable (priced the same as fermented rice steamed buns).

The regular customers of Huangji hadn’t seen such cost-effective food there for a long time. As a famous high-end restaurant in Suzhou, Huangji’s biggest characteristic had always been its high markup prices.

Once news spread that the Four Happiness Flower Rolls had been launched early—offering extreme value for money and tasting incredibly good—customers rushed over in droves, lining up to buy them. Those who were busy working and had no time to queue even sent others to buy them. In no time, the entrance of Huangji became as lively as it had been during New Year’s Day.

At this point, someone might question: how could it possibly be as lively as during New Year’s Day? That period was Huangji’s peak traffic season, boosted by Zhiwei. Every day, countless out-of-town customers came just because of its reputation, willing to wait hours in line just for some pastries.

No matter how good Qin Huai’s Four Happiness Flower Rolls were, they shouldn’t cause such a massive sensation in just one day.

In theory, that was true.

But there was another marketing method called “hunger marketing.”

Huangji hadn’t intended to do this on purpose—it was simply that production couldn’t keep up, forcing them into an unintentional version of it.

“Little Qin chef, that was the last batch of Four Happiness Flower Rolls for today, right? Do you know the exact quantity? The floor manager asked me to confirm so she can persuade the customers outside to leave.”

Around 3 p.m., a round-faced waitress peeked into the kitchen and called out loudly.

Qin Huai accurately reported the numbers, then continued slacking off while eating lotus root starch balls.

After recording the figures, the waitress nodded and quickly left.

Dong Shi, who had been curious all morning about what had happened to Qin Huai—how his Four Happiness Rolls suddenly became so beautifully made—seized the opportunity to approach him. He was still holding half a cucumber and asked in a low voice:

“Qin Huai, it’s only 3 p.m. Why are you stopping production of the Four Happiness Rolls?”

Qin Huai nodded decisively. “I’m not making them anymore. That’s it for today.”

“Are you feeling unwell?” Dong Shi asked carefully, studying his face.

He didn’t look like it at all.

His complexion was rosy, lips normal, and most importantly—he looked energetic and full of spirit. Clearly very healthy.

“Nope.” Qin Huai continued calmly eating glutinous rice balls. “I feel fine. Why? Does my face look bad?”

Dong Shi shook his head and kept staring at him. “Then why are you off work so early? Got something later?”

Qin Huai looked confused and stared back at him, wondering if his friend had missed out on too much gossip lately and was losing his mind.

“Who told you I’m off work?” Qin Huai asked. “My normal finishing time is 5:40. I still have other pastries to make later.”

“What pastries?”

“Four Happiness Tangyuan.”

Dong Shi: “???”

Qin Huai watched as Dong Shi’s expression shifted from shock to confusion, then to thinking, then sudden realization, then confusion again—he couldn’t tell what kind of mental conclusion he was reaching.

Dong Shi’s thinking was too unpredictable. Normally, if you tried to reason with him logically, he wouldn’t follow logic. But if you didn’t, he somehow still behaved logically.

Qin Huai decided to ask directly. “What are you thinking about?”

“I’m thinking you’ve changed,” Dong Shi said, uttering a surprisingly philosophical line.

Qin Huai: “?”

“How have I changed?”

“That is…” Dong Shi scratched his neck, organizing his words. “This doesn’t feel like your usual style.”

“Have you been hanging out with Tan Weian too much and got infected with laziness?”

From not far away, Tan Weian—who had been slacking off and eavesdropping while eating a half tomato—froze.

“What did you just say?!” he stormed over angrily. “Who are you calling lazy? Do you know what time I wake up every day? What time I sleep? How many pastries I make every day? I even go home every night digging through recipe books to find pastries that match Qin Huai’s taste! The things he’s good at—like Four Happiness Tangyuan and lotus root starch balls—my family’s recipes don’t even have them! My grandfather and great-grandfather never specialized in those!”

Tan Weian’s outburst stunned Qin Huai. He hadn’t expected that something he had casually mentioned before had been taken so seriously by him, to the point that he was digging through recipes every night.

Qin Huai felt a bit touched.

He began to reflect on whether he had been neglecting Tan Weian lately. After all, Tan Weian really liked slacking off—so much that he sometimes made himself nearly invisible.

Aside from barely keeping up with group work and occasionally making simple pastries, Tan Weian’s workload was among the lightest in the pastry team.

He even had a relaxed aura—something that shouldn’t exist in a chef from a place like Huangji.

Every day when he stood in the kitchen, his expression practically said: I’ll try if I feel like it; if not, forget it.

Qin Huai quickly stepped in to smooth things over.

“That’s not what Dong Shi meant. Hey, Tan Weian, where did you get that tomato? Get me one.”

Tan Weian immediately forgot the argument and pointed to the vegetable rack.

Qin Huai quickly used the distraction and asked Dong Shi, “You think that based on my previous personality, I wouldn’t just casually stop practicing after improving the shape of the Four Happiness Rolls. And I definitely wouldn’t stop at 3 p.m. and switch to other pastries.”

Dong Shi nodded, still confused. “Exactly. Before, you would practice one pastry continuously and not touch anything else, except when you were too tired and made something simple as a break.”

“When you weren’t around, Senior Brother Huang even used your focus on Four Happiness Tangyuan and crab roe siu mai as examples for me—telling me not to get distracted while cutting ingredients, to focus on the cutting board, to learn your concentration.”

His expression clearly said: You were the model student, and now you’re suddenly the problem example?

Qin Huai hadn’t expected that Huang Jia would use him as a teaching model during his absence. But thinking about it, it made sense—Dong Shi had great talent but was too scattered, easily distracted by gossip.

His hobby was gossip. If you wanted to catch every piece of gossip around you, you couldn’t possibly stay focused on one thing.

Qin Huai explained, “That was before. Things are different now.”

“What’s different?” Tan Weian asked, returning with a big, red, perfectly shaped tomato and handing it to Qin Huai.

“Four Happiness Rolls are different from what I used to practice,” Qin Huai said. “They’re too hard. I can’t master them.”

Dong Shi & Tan Weian: “???”

Both of them stared at him in shock, especially Tan Weian.

Because they had personally witnessed how Qin Huai overcame every single pastry challenge step by step.

Yet now, he was saying—he couldn’t master one?

He could accept that Qin Huai might have a bit of a problem with his brain, and that the game system he imagined was actually very useful. He could accept that Qin Huai was a “pervert” (in the sense of being freakishly talented). He could accept that maybe Qin Huai hadn’t fully “drunk the Meng Po soup” before reincarnating. He could accept that Qin Huai’s pastries might once again make it onto the cover of Zhiwei. He could accept that Qin Huai might quickly enter the Famous Chef List. He could even accept that Qin Huai might break the ranking record for white-case chefs on that list…

Tan Weian even felt that if one day Qin Huai told him he was actually a lost child of the Tan family, he could accept that too.

But he absolutely could not accept Qin Huai saying that a pastry was too difficult and he couldn’t learn it.

Tan Weian really wanted to grab Qin Huai by the shoulders and shake him violently, questioning him, shouting at him, roaring at him.

“How can you say something like that?! You’re Chef Qin! You’re the all-powerful Qin Huai! You’re the one who can solve any insanely difficult pastry problem! You’re the one who figured out a solution to the ridiculously hard Double Crab Bun that everyone was stuck on just by going on a few roller coaster rides at an amusement park!”

“How can Chef Qin say he can’t do it!”

Is the Four Happiness Roll really that hard? Isn’t it just cloud-pattern technique…

Alright, fine, the Four Happiness Roll really is quite difficult.

But… is it that hard?!

Are you, Qin Huai, actually going to give up and slack off—like me, Tan Weian?!

I really can’t do it, but you’re not like me. You’re a true genius. Your talent is so overflowing it practically leaks out of you, to the point where someone like me wants to take a basin and scoop some of it for myself.

How can you say you can’t do it?!

Tan Weian even began to suspect that he was the reason Qin Huai had become like this. What Dong Shi said might actually be true—he had been slacking off too openly and too arrogantly lately, and had “corrupted” Qin Huai.

Tan Weian slapped his own head hard, showing a regretful expression, almost saying “I deserve to die.”

Qin Huai hadn’t fully understood Dong Shi’s expression earlier, but he could guess Tan Weian’s reaction about 80–90% accurately.

He smiled helplessly and explained again:

“I didn’t give up on the Four Happiness Roll.”

“I just realized that with my current level, I can’t make this pastry.”

“The hand techniques are very difficult and very important. I had underestimated them before. I was like a frog in a well—sitting at the bottom, looking up and thinking that was the whole world. But this morning I climbed out of the well, saw the real world, and realized it wasn’t what I thought. I realized I can’t do it.”

“I’m someone who knows my limits. If something can’t be done, I won’t force myself.”

“So you didn’t give up?” Tan Weian asked.

“Of course not. The Four Happiness Roll is a pastry I absolutely have to make.”

Qin Huai glanced at Dong Shi.

“I promised Mr. Shi. Even though I didn’t fully understand the difficulty when I made that promise, since I agreed, I will do it.”

“But once I realized I can’t currently make it, I felt there was no need to force myself.”

“Like you, it’s also good to relax and take things lightly. Just do the pastries you normally should do, and the ones you want to do. Don’t force yourself into constant high-pressure practice and use sheer volume to push for breakthroughs.”

“I thought about it at noon and realized my condition these past two days has been a bit off.”

“I was too eager to master the Four Happiness Roll. I made so many failed attempts every day, but I still didn’t truly understand what the technique actually was.”

“Maybe that’s why my intermediate technique proficiency has been stuck at the last two points for over two days. This shouldn’t be how pastry-making works. Even without rushing for results, I was still overly focused on brute-forcing quantity instead of stopping to think.”

Qin Huai spoke very seriously. He was being completely sincere with Tan Weian—there wasn’t a single lie.

Tan Weian was completely stunned.

“So…” he began to question his life choices, “actually my state is pretty good? I’m relaxed every day and don’t try to grind skills through massive practice like you imagine…”

“No wonder Chef Zhou sometimes praises me for having a good mindset.”

Qin Huai: “……”

That probably wasn’t praise.

As far as Qin Huai knew, Chef Zhou from Zhiwei occasionally enjoyed using sarcasm.

Qin Huai finished his lotus root starch balls, put down his bowl, and felt a bit thirsty from eating too many sweets. He looked around for tea.

Just then, Su Qian suddenly appeared from a corner with a cup of perfectly warm tea.

Qin Huai once again silently admired how “complete” Su Qian was, and took the cup to drink two big mouthfuls.

Su Qian didn’t leave. Instead, he stood beside Qin Huai as if considering something. After Qin Huai finished drinking, he slowly asked: “Chef Qin, I accidentally overheard a bit earlier. May I ask how long you plan to stay here at Huangji for exchange?”

Qin Huai thought he was being urged back because things were busy at Zhiwei.

“I might stay a bit longer. As you heard earlier, I can’t master the Four Happiness Roll anytime soon.”

“I plan to stay here for at least another 20 days to consolidate my foundation, then return to Yunzhong Canteen. I can’t stay away too long.”

“Your exchange period should be ending soon too, right? Do you have a return date set?”

“We’re not in a hurry,” Su Qian smiled. “My uncle even told us last night to stay here longer and learn more from you.”

“I actually wanted to talk to you about something else.”

Qin Huai listened attentively.

“I haven’t learned cloud-pattern technique myself, but Chef Zhou at Zhiwei actually knows cloud-pattern pastries.”

“Oh?” Qin Huai had already guessed where this was going.

“As far as I know, there are many types of cloud-pattern pastries. They differ in direction, style, and difficulty. If you feel your current hand techniques aren’t enough for the Four Happiness Roll, you could try simpler cloud-pattern pastries first, or simpler variations of the technique.”

“Maybe you’ll gain something from that.”

“If you’re interested, I can ask Chef Zhou tonight whether he would be willing to discuss this with you.”

“However, Chef Zhou probably won’t leave Zhiwei, so if you want to learn, you may need to visit Zhiwei in person.”

Qin Huai was pleasantly surprised. “Is that possible? Isn’t that a bit too presumptuous?”

“Of course not. Chef Zhou actually enjoys exchanging techniques with other chefs. Every year many chefs come to Zhiwei for exchanges.”

“Then please help me ask him.”

“However, there will be many visiting chefs next month, so Chef Zhou may not have time. I’ll ask about this month first.”

“Of course!”