AGN -Chapter 434 Mission Complete

If Qin Huai’s first attempt at making egg tarts had been tense because he didn’t fully understand his own abilities and had never made them before, then making egg tarts now was something he could handle with complete ease.

During the days he spent watching Zhao Cheng’an make Auspicious Cloud Pattern Rolls, Qin Huai had gained a much deeper understanding of laminated pastry desserts. Even though he hadn’t made egg tarts again since that one attempt, he still handled the dough effortlessly when kneading it.

Shi Dadan leaned against the kitchen doorway and watched.

“Old Shi, what kind of tart crust do you like?” Qin Huai asked while kneading the dough. “Harder? Crisp around the edges but softer underneath? Or thinner and flakier?”

Shi Dadan was usually only responsible for eating and rarely offered opinions. After thinking for a moment, he gave an honest smile even though Qin Huai couldn’t see it.

“Anything’s fine. As long as it’s made by you, Xiao Qin, I’ll like it.”

Qin Huai continued kneading as he spoke.

“Then I’ll make the kind with a very thin, crispy crust and a super soft filling. Old Shi, you like stronger flavors and sweeter tastes, so I’ll add a little extra sugar when I mix the custard…”

“Actually, should I just make caramel ones for you?”

Shi Dadan froze for a moment.

“Xiao Qin, how do you know I like sweet things?”

Qin Huai smiled.

“You’ve eaten so many pastries here with me. Of course I know what you like.”

“For mantou, you prefer plain white-flour ones with nothing added. Compared to fermented rice mantou, you actually like regular white mantou more. The mantou itself has to be soft but chewy, and you especially love the skin. Every time you eat one, you peel off the outer layer first before eating the rest.”

“For shaomai, you like sticky rice mixed with diced mushrooms. Lamb shaomai is the one you eat the least.”

“As for sweets… although lots of people think ‘not too sweet’ is the highest praise for desserts, you obviously prefer genuinely sweet food. You just like bold flavors in general. When you eat meat dishes, you like thick sauces that can be mixed with rice. Stir-fried pork with peppers has to be spicy, sweet-and-sour pork has to be sweet, and even stir-fried bitter melon has to actually taste bitter.”

“I’m not wrong, am I?” Qin Huai asked as he turned back to glance at him.

Shi Dadan was completely stunned.

He leaned against the kitchen doorway, his chubby figure looking like the comic relief side character from a movie. Because he had gained over ten pounds recently, his already small eyes looked even smaller before—but now they were wide open, filled with shock, emotion, and indescribably complicated feelings.

When Shi Dadan didn’t respond for a long time, Qin Huai turned around fully and asked in confusion: “Did I get something wrong?”

Inwardly, Qin Huai reviewed everything he had said. It shouldn’t be wrong. He had always been very accurate when judging the tastes and habits of the people around him.

“You’re not wrong,” Shi Dadan said softly. “It’s just… I eat a lot, and I’ll eat almost anything. Very few people ever pay attention to what I actually love eating.”

“Only Xu Nuo noticed that I liked mantou skin. Every time we ate mantou together, he would peel off his skin and give it to me.”

Qin Huai immediately understood that he had touched on a painful subject. He stopped talking and focused on making pastries instead.

The difficulty of egg tarts was ninety-nine percent concentrated in the pastry crust.

After preparing the butter dough and waiting for it to proof at a low temperature, Qin Huai quietly mixed the custard filling and casually asked:

“Old Shi, is there any pastry you’ve been especially craving lately?”

“I’m not trying to trigger another side quest for myself here. You already have too many side quests for me to handle.”

“I just suddenly realized while kneading dough that although I’ve been making pastries lately, you haven’t actually gotten to eat much of what I make. And most of what I’ve made are hedgehog buns for kids.”

“Is there anything you haven’t eaten in a long time that you want? Tomorrow when I go to Zhiweiju, I can ask Master Zhou for some free time to make it for you.”

Shi Dadan still leaned against the doorway as he answered honestly:

“I’ve eaten your hedgehog buns, Xiao Qin. Every morning and afternoon I line up to buy them. The red bean paste filling ones are delicious.”

“And I paid attention too. On the first day they were normal-sized hedgehogs, the second day they were little hedgehogs, the third day they were fat hedgehogs, and from the fourth day onward they were mixed varieties every day.”

Shi Dadan had observed surprisingly carefully.

“I don’t really have any special pastries I want to eat. But if I had to pick something… the white mantou at Zhiweiju aren’t as good as yours, Xiao Qin. If you have time tomorrow, could you make a batch of plain mantou? Fermented rice mantou would be fine too.”

The mantou at Zhiweiju were generally made by elite apprentices or direct disciples. Skill-wise, they naturally couldn’t compare to Qin Huai. Mantou happened to be Shi Dadan’s favorite basic pastry, so not having eaten really good ones for such a long time had honestly been difficult for him.

“Alright,” Qin Huai agreed, continuing to make the egg tarts.

At 9:47 p.m., the egg tarts finally came out of the oven.

Even though Qin Huai tried to make as few as possible, one batch still produced a full twenty-eight tarts. Basic pastries were like that—making large quantities was easy, but making only a small amount was surprisingly difficult.

In the end, Qin Huai still didn’t make caramel egg tarts. They didn’t have a blowtorch at home, so the conditions simply weren’t there.

Freshly baked egg tarts were in their most perfect state.

Qin Huai deliberately made the crust thin and crispy, while the lightly browned custard filling looked soft, bouncy, and creamy.

Of course, the most wonderful part was the aroma.

It was the rich scent born from eggs, milk, sugar, and butter—the kind of smell that awakened humanity’s most primitive appetite. Just inhaling deeply once made it feel as though you could already taste the sweet flavor of the egg tart.

The only flaw was that they were slightly too sweet and rich.

Shi Dadan liked sweets, so Qin Huai had intentionally made them sweeter.

The freshly baked tarts were still scalding hot. Qin Huai and Shi Dadan sat at the dining table, neither of them taking the first bite.

Qin Huai noticed a banana on the table that had already begun turning black, so he simply picked it up and ate it.

Surprisingly, bananas at this stage—though they looked close to spoiling—were actually at their sweetest.

“Old Shi, let me ask you something.”

“My game system’s encyclopedia has already unlocked ten spirits now. Once the remaining two are unlocked and it’s complete, what happens to the system afterward? Does it level up, or unlock new functions?”

“At first I thought gathering all twelve spirits would be really hard, but now it actually seems pretty easy. Feels like spirits tend to cluster together.”

Qin Huai asked while eating.

Shi Dadan stared at the egg tarts, probably wondering when they would finally cool enough to eat, and replied casually:

“Spirits really do tend to cluster together, especially during the first life and the final life. It’s particularly easy to encounter them then.”

“Actually, I also have a question for you, Xiao Qin.” Shi Dadan looked at him. “More accurately, it’s something Chen Huihong and the others wanted to ask but never dared to. I’m not afraid to bring it up, so I’ll ask directly.”

“Luo Jun is about to die. Given his current state, his first life is actually his best chance to successfully overcome the tribulation. You’ve seen his memories, you know his emotional knot, and you know why he failed the tribulation.”

“Once he dies and reincarnates, everyone probably won’t meet again for many years. If he fails the tribulation again in his second life—or if he lives another ninety years like he did in the first—then Xiao Qin, you probably won’t outlive him. The chances of him failing would become very high.”

“Luo Jun is just one example. There may be others in the future.”

“If a spirit you know fails their tribulation and completely dissipates… would you feel sad or heartbroken?”

Shi Dadan’s question completely stunned Qin Huai.

He had never expected Shi Dadan to ask something so difficult and profound. Normally, the questions Shi Dadan asked most often were about what they were eating today.

Qin Huai thought seriously for a moment and realized that he couldn’t come up with an answer right away.

“I don’t know,” Qin Huai said. “I haven’t encountered something like that yet. I think I probably would feel sad, but it’s also not something I can change.”

“Sister Hong and Mr. Luo have told me a lot before. Every spirit’s tribulation is different. Some emotional knots seem simple to me but are incredibly difficult for spirits, while others seem impossible to me yet are easy for them.”

“I’m not a spirit. I can’t truly empathize with them. I can use the game system to view their memories and judge things from a godlike perspective, but if I haven’t personally experienced it, then I don’t really have the right to speak on it.”

“I do think Mr. Luo could have succeeded in this life. And I also think his emotional knot wasn’t completely impossible to resolve.”

“But I think… Mr. Luo wanted to fail.”

“He wanted to punish himself this way. Otherwise, he could’ve done what normal spirits do—kill himself and reincarnate immediately after failing the tribulation. Instead, he continued living in the human world for all these years, not for success, but for failure itself.”

“That’s his conflict, and also his conviction. We’ve already helped him as much as we can. The rest can only depend on Mr. Luo himself.”

“Maybe after I die, Mr. Luo will fail his tribulation and completely disappear. I’d definitely feel sad about it too, but that would still be his own choice.”

“Mr. Luo is an incredibly stubborn and independent person. Since he chose this path, I believe he won’t regret it. And if he himself has no regrets or lingering attachments, then there’s really nothing I can say except respect his decision…”

“And maybe inherit his estate while I’m at it.”

“I don’t know if this way of thinking is right. Maybe it sounds a little cruel to you spirits, but that’s honestly how I feel.”

Shi Dadan shook his head.

“Of course not. Hearing you say that actually puts me at ease, Xiao Qin.”

“A spirit’s tribulation is ultimately their own matter. Everyone was just afraid you’d get overly involved and emotionally invested, then start blaming yourself whenever a spirit failed their tribulation and disappeared. That’s why they wanted to ask you this question but didn’t dare to.”

Qin Huai smiled.

“Don’t worry. I won’t.”

“I’m just an ordinary protagonist in a system novel. I’m not arrogant enough to think I can save the world or rescue all living beings.”

“Oh, the egg tarts seem to have cooled down a little. Old Shi, hurry and try them. See if you like this slightly sweeter version.”

Hearing that, Shi Dadan picked up an egg tart and bit into it.

Crunch.

The tart shell released a crisp, flaky sound.

A satisfied expression appeared on Shi Dadan’s face.

“Ding! Congratulations, player, for completing the side quest [Delicious Egg Tarts].”

“Quest Reward: [One Dream of Zhao Cheng’an].”

Qin Huai: !!!

The side quest was completed just like that?

That easily? That casually? Just by making Shi Dadan a batch of slightly sweeter egg tarts?

Qin Huai had already gotten used to quests taking months to complete. Now that one had suddenly been cleared so effortlessly, he actually felt uncomfortable instead.

It gave him the strange feeling that the quest had been too easy—as if some huge surprise was still waiting afterward.

“Xiao Qin, what’s wrong?” Shi Dadan asked.

“N-Nothing. The side quest just suddenly completed.” Qin Huai scratched his nose awkwardly. “I didn’t expect it to finish so quickly.”

“That’s great.” Shi Dadan chuckled happily. “It’s the egg tart side quest, right? I remember the reward is Xiao Zhao’s dream. Perfect timing—you can finally see why Xiao Zhao failed his tribulation.”

“With Xiao Zhao’s current state, he’s definitely in the final two reincarnations of a mayfly spirit. Honestly, for mayflies, successfully passing the tribulation is kind of a pity, but succeeding would still be good.”

“I’ve never actually seen a mayfly spirit succeed before.”

Qin Huai: …

Really?

Then mayflies were seriously slackers.

No wonder they had more reincarnation cycles than ordinary spirits. You could tell the Heavenly Dao genuinely wanted to save them, but simply couldn’t drag them back up.

“So… should I watch it now?” Qin Huai suggested. “Old Shi, you keep eating the egg tarts first. If you can’t finish them, just leave them there. Every time I watch memories, only three to five minutes pass in reality anyway.”

“I’ll message Tan Wei’an later and tell him to take the leftovers.”

Qin Huai still remembered that Tan Wei’an liked egg tarts too.

Though he wasn’t sure whether Tan Wei’an liked sweeter ones.

Shi Dadan obediently nodded and took another fierce bite of an egg tart, producing another crisp crunch.

Qin Huai opened the game system, clicked on [One Dream of Zhao Cheng’an], and selected Yes.

[Loading Dream —]

“Please have mercy, sir! Give us something to eat! Be kind and buy this child!”

“Goudan! What are you standing there for? Open your mouth and let the master see your teeth! Look here, sir—a nine-year-old boy. Feed him for a couple years and he’ll become a strong laborer. More useful than livestock!”

“This child is the only son of a farming family. Good foundation too. Normally, merchandise like this costs at least three strings of coins, but times are bad right now, so only two strings! Just throw in some black-bean cakes or rice bran and he’s yours. Goods this good are rare!”

The moment Qin Huai entered the memory, he found himself at what looked like a large-scale human trafficking market.

A skinny man with yellowed, blackened teeth—yet still looking relatively sturdy among a crowd of starving, skeletal children who resembled dried sticks—was pushing around a filthy but comparatively healthier little boy while enthusiastically promoting him to a middle-aged man in cloth robes.

The trafficker roughly pried open the child’s mouth.

“Look at these teeth! Absolutely no lying about his age.”

The buyer in cloth clothes waved his hand dismissively.

“Two strings is too expensive. Even pretty little girls only sell for two and a half. If I buy this one, I still need to feed him for two more years. With that kind of effort, I’d be better off picking up a couple random brats from the city. Too expensive. One string.”

The trafficker immediately cried out in complaint.

“Oh sir, one string really won’t do. These children were gathered all the way from Jin Province. Just feeding them on the journey cost who knows how much grain. One string is impossible.”

“Forget it then.”

The buyer waved his sleeve and moved on to the next seller.

Seeing the deal fall through, the trafficker furiously kicked the child to the ground and cursed:

“You little bastards eat like pigs when it’s mealtime, but now you all turn mute? Can’t you say a few nice words? Can’t you cling to the master and beg?”

“I should’ve thrown you worthless things away on the road earlier. Wasting my food. No bean cakes for you today. Get lost!”

The child lay on the ground without much reaction, looking too starved to even move.

Qin Huai stared at the child in confusion.

This was… Zhao Cheng’an?

When mayflies experienced the many facets of life, did they immerse themselves this deeply—actually starving themselves like this?

No wonder everyone said mayflies had a death wish.

Turns out they meant it literally.