AGN -Chapter 415 What Kind of Style Is This Zhiwei Ju?

“What is the most important thing in making laminated pastries? Temperature. And are you at a level where you can even think about temperature control yet? How many times do I have to repeat the words ‘overambitious’? You haven’t even learned to walk and you’re already thinking about running. Why didn’t I let you go to the low-temperature room to knead dough? Was it necessary? At your current level, is there any need for you to specially go there and knead dough?”

“Look at the dough you made. Now look at Old Third’s. He’s only a few years older than you. You’re Little Su’s nephew and you’ve been apprenticing here at Zhiwei Ju since you were young. Have you gotten so much praise over the years that it went to your head? Do you still remember what kind of dough Old Third made at your age?”

“Tell me—what is this dough for? Laminated pastries? Steamed items? Or just ordinary buns and steamed bread?”

“Have I not emphasized this enough times? Different pastries require different doughs. In the apprentice stage, it’s supposed to be complicated, precise, and meticulously refined in every detail. Have you done that?”

“I told you to draw orchids, and you added a grasshopper for ‘humor’ on top. Do you think you’re very funny? You don’t do what you should do, and insist on doing what you shouldn’t. Yesterday I just praised your improvement, and today your dough looks like this. Are you dizzy? Did you walk here and get dizzy on the way, or did the sun outside bake your brain until you lost sense? Has the temperature still not cooled you down?”

Under Master Zhou’s machine-gun-like verbal barrage, Su Qian didn’t even dare breathe loudly, let alone raise his head. He could only accept the scolding obediently.

A stark contrast to the confident, spirited Su Qian from Yunzhong Canteen.

Qin Huai stood nearby, not daring to speak. He subconsciously moved two steps closer to Zhao Cheng’an, who was nearest to him, staying away from the center of the storm. At the same time, he glanced at Zhao Cheng’an’s dough.

To be honest, Qin Huai felt Su Qian’s dough wasn’t actually that bad—it was just his level. He could also roughly tell that Su Qian was making something like buns, and most likely San Ding Bao.

At Yunzhong Canteen, Su Qian practiced San Ding Bao the most, because Qin Huai had explained it in the most detail. Su Qian probably wanted to impress him, or to learn as much as possible from him, so he spent most of his time on San Ding Bao. His best skill—laminated pastries—was actually practiced only in spare time.

Qin Huai believed Master Zhou had seen this too, which was why he was scolding him so harshly. For San Ding Bao dough, Su Qian’s level simply wasn’t qualified enough. Returning to Zhiwei Ju and still choosing to make San Ding Bao—there was clearly some intention of showing off in front of Master Zhou.

And just as Master Zhou said: if you haven’t learned to walk yet, don’t try to run.

Qin Huai glanced again at Zhao Cheng’an’s dough.

For a moment, he almost thought Zhao Cheng’an was also making San Ding Bao—and it looked so good that it would completely crush Su Qian’s the moment they were placed side by side.

“Hey.” Zhao Cheng’an casually greeted Qin Huai while Master Zhou was still scolding, “I ate the San Ding Bao you made yesterday. Pretty good craftsmanship—not much worse than mine.”

“At that time I was in the low-temperature room. I wanted to come say hi, but I couldn’t leave because the pastries weren’t finished. By the time I was done, you had already gone home.”

“Yesterday’s San Ding Bao was really good. No wonder Tan Weian came back from Huang Ji last time and kept praising you nonstop, saying he finally met a rival. He met someone even more extreme than me.”

Qin Huai: “……”

Tan Weian, you really didn’t mention you were advertising me like this here in Zhiwei Ju.

“Zhao… Zhao chef, you’re also good at San Ding Bao?” Qin Huai asked politely.

He actually already knew Zhao Cheng’an’s skill set was very broad; Tan Weian had mentioned it before, even sighing that geniuses were too casual—others specializing in one thing was already the limit, while they learned everything.

Zhao Cheng’an was the type who knew a bit of everything, which made him less shockingly outstanding than before.

“Just a little,” Zhao Cheng’an said with a smile. “My real specialty is laminated pastries. I used to make them almost every day as a kid until I got tired of them. These years I don’t really like making them anymore. I heard from Tan Weian that you’re also good at a lot of things? Interested in Western pastries?”

“I’ve been thinking about learning Western pastries recently. Watching Master making egg tarts made me want to try baking them too. I secretly baked a batch last time, but Master caught me and scolded me for being unprofessional.”

“That wasn’t baking egg tarts,” Zhou Yan, the chef next to him, couldn’t help but roll her eyes while continuing her work. “You just saw Master using laminated techniques on egg tarts and thought you’d try it, but didn’t want to start from scratch, so you actually bought a bottle of pre-made egg tart liquid from the supermarket.”

“Are you even a pastry chef from Zhiwei Ju anymore? Buying pre-made egg tart liquid? Why not just buy the crust too? Which part of Master’s scolding was wrong?”

She handed over a freshly mixed filling. “Taste it for me—see if there’s any problem. The last batch was still a bit bland.”

Zhao Cheng’an took it naturally, tasted a bit, and shook his head. “Still bland.”

Zhou Yan frowned. “Still? Master said I added too much shrimp and it was hard to balance, so I reduced shrimp and added cabbage, carrot shreds, and mushrooms. But no matter how I adjust it, it still feels light. Is it the ingredient ratio?”

“Or was my idea wrong from the start—maybe this ‘white jade shrimp roll’ just doesn’t work when wrapped in pastry or turned into dumplings.”

She fell into deep thought.

Zhao Cheng’an continued seasoning his own filling while speaking casually, “Master didn’t say your idea was wrong, so it’s worth trying. I think you’re just too cautious, Senior Sister. Why overthink making pastries? Just do it.”

“You’re questioning your idea, but why aren’t you questioning your skill? Maybe your skill just isn’t there yet.”

Zhou Yan immediately glared at him.

Just when Qin Huai thought a fight was about to break out, Wang Jiayi, who had been silently working at the front, paused, turned around, assessed the situation, and calmly said: “Xiao Yan, what Old Third said isn’t wrong either. Making pastries doesn’t require too much hesitation. Be bold, try more. If once doesn’t work, try twice. If twice doesn’t work, try dozens or hundreds of times—trying more is always right.”

“If you want to make good pastries, it’s never simple. Since you have inspiration, you should seize the opportunity. Don’t retreat right at the start.”

“And you, Old Third—you think your words are fine? Your senior sister’s skill isn’t enough? And yours is? A half-baked San Ding Bao and you still dare brag in front of Xiao Qin that it’s about the same as his? Have we not eaten your San Ding Bao before?”

“Buying pre-made egg tart liquid—you really can think of that. I think six hours of pastry work per day is too little for you. You should do eight hours. Master already said you must do at least four hours of laminated pastries today, and both your senior sister and I will be watching you. Don’t even think about slacking off.”

That immediately silenced Zhao Cheng’an.

Just when Qin Huai was enjoying the drama and thought this segment was ending, Zhao Cheng’an suddenly muttered: “So you’re watching me for four hours this afternoon, Senior Brother… aren’t you going to pick up your kid?”

“My wife is picking him up today,” Wang Jiayi replied casually without turning around.

“Oh right, Senior Brother, I remember your kid took an art class before. How was it? Worth it? I want to enroll my son too,” Zhou Yan asked.

Wang Jiayi continued working while replying, “A bit expensive, but the teacher was responsible. My daughter enjoyed it. It was years ago though—I don’t even know if the class is still running. If you want, I can ask my wife tonight.”

Then the three of them started chatting casually—about kids, school, neighbors, and even some master’s disciple allegedly juggling multiple relationships, to the point they even considered betting on when he would crash.

The wager: an extra day of work for the winner. Zhiwei Ju’s disciples did get monthly holidays—four days per month.

Qin Huai: “?”

Is this really allowed in a kitchen where pastry masters are actively scolding apprentices?

He glanced at Master Zhou.

Master Zhou was still firing verbal missiles at Su Qian—calling him a wooden head, a fool, a bird that can’t fly, a bird that wakes early but can’t find worms—while simultaneously giving technical corrections, completely ignoring the gossip behind him.

In fact, he even noticed Qin Huai looking at him and said casually: “Xiao Qin, you should observe Old Third and the others more. No need to watch Su Qian anymore—there’s nothing worth learning from him right now.”

From his tone, it was obvious:

He was afraid Qin Huai might “pollute his database” by watching too much of Su Qian’s dough.

Zhou Yan was still chatting enthusiastically with Wang Jiayi about children. This topic didn’t leave much room for Zhao Cheng’an, who wasn’t married yet, so he glanced at Qin Huai a few more times. Seeing that Qin Huai looked a bit confused, he smiled and explained: “Pretty surprising, right? That Zhiwei Ju’s direct disciples actually behave like this while making pastries?”

Qin Huai honestly nodded.

Even though life at Zhiwei Ju was already different from what he had imagined, this was still far too different.

So this is what Zhiwei Ju is like behind the scenes? It really doesn’t match its reputation as the “Whampoa Military Academy of white-bun pastry chefs.”

“Um… isn’t chatting like this while making pastries distracting?” Qin Huai couldn’t help asking.

He himself was someone who liked listening to gossip while cooking. Back at Huang Ji, during his intense pastry work every day, what kept him going was Dong Shi standing nearby chattering nonstop about gossip.

That behavior was, in a way, tacitly accepted by everyone. Even if it wasn’t, it didn’t matter—he would still talk. Dong Shi just loved gossip.

But in the huge kitchen at Huang Ji, only Dong Shi was that talkative. In the even larger kitchen of Zhiwei Ju, Qin Huai had already seen three such people at once.

At first, he had assumed Wang Jiayi would be quiet like Gu Li, Zhou Yan would be meticulous and steady, and only Zhao Cheng’an would be the lively one.

But in reality, Zhao Cheng’an was actually the least talkative about gossip. Zhou Yan and Wang Jiayi, when it came to children, simply wouldn’t stop talking—heads down, hands moving, mouths constantly running.

And these three were all direct disciples of Master Zhou, with Master Zhou himself standing right there, not stopping them at all.

What a surreal scene.

“Of course it affects focus,” Zhao Cheng’an said. “But working in silence all the time gets boring and dull—it even affects your state.”

Qin Huai paused.

“Don’t be fooled by how rigid Master looks. He’s actually very open-minded,” Zhao Cheng’an continued. “He even insists on watching short videos for an hour every day after work.”

Qin Huai: “……”

That second half doesn’t sound like praise at all.

“Master’s philosophy is: no matter what method you use, no matter how you do it, as long as the result is good and you don’t make mistakes, he accepts it.”

“Even if you have a weird habit like dancing a waltz before every pastry session, Master would probably find you a room just for dancing.”

Qin Huai: That’s a great description. Please don’t describe it again. I already have a mental image.

Seeing Qin Huai still a bit stunned, Zhao Cheng’an asked with a smile:

“Feeling like Zhiwei Ju is very different from what you imagined?”

Qin Huai nodded heavily. “It’s… too different. I never imagined Zhiwei Ju would be… like this.”

“This is nothing yet,” Zhao Cheng’an said, glancing at the time. “Oh, it’s already 10:52. Eight minutes until the morning meeting. Once you attend that, you’ll really understand what kind of place Zhiwei Ju is. You haven’t met Boss Su yet, right? Don’t worry—after the meeting, you’ll probably end up like me and start thinking Boss Su is basically the god of Zhiwei Ju.”

Qin Huai: “?”

“Do you know why the morning meeting is at 11?” Zhao Cheng’an lowered his voice.

“Why?” Qin Huai asked.

“Because one of the senior chefs likes sleeping in. He can’t wake up earlier. The meeting used to be at 10:30, but he was always late, so they pushed it to 11.”

“That works too?” Qin Huai was shocked.

“What’s wrong with that? Then do you know why the work shift for senior chefs is exactly six hours?”

“Why?”

“Because one of them is obsessive about numbers and not in great health. He insists on whole numbers. Five hours is too short, seven hours is too long, so it became six.”

Qin Huai: “?! That works too?”

“Then do you know why the apprentices here are so good at making tea?”

“Why?” Qin Huai was genuinely curious now. He had always thought that even if Zhiwei Ju apprentices didn’t excel in cooking, after a few years here, their tea-making skills alone would be good enough to get a job in a teahouse.

“Because there used to be a senior chef here who was extremely skilled in tea art. One apprentice wanted to become his disciple, so he deliberately studied tea every day after work to please him. He succeeded. Others saw it as an opportunity and started practicing too. Over time, it became a habit and culture. Even after that chef retired, the tea-making tradition stayed.”

Qin Huai was stunned.

After a long silence, he sighed: “Why didn’t Tan Weian tell me any of this?”

Zhao Cheng’an scoffed. “These are top-level secrets. Tan Weian’s grandfather doesn’t even like gossip. What would he know?”

“Most of what he knows, I told him.”

“Qin Huai, you came to the right place by following my master. Tan Weian told me you like gossip. You’re just not familiar with us yet, so you can’t join the conversation. Once you get used to it, we’ll set up a dedicated workstation for you, and the four of us can make pastries while chatting. I’ll tell you even more explosive stories.”

Qin Huai was already starting to look forward to it.

Just then, Master Zhou finished scolding Su Qian and told him to continue working. He waved at Qin Huai: “Xiao Qin, Jiayi, let’s go to the morning meeting.”

Qin Huai quickly followed.