AGN -Chapter 440 Then Let Me See What You’ve Realized

With Qin Huai’s reminder, Chen Huihong managed to recall a few things from when she had still been the “Mad Miss.”

“Oh, you mean that cook who worked odd jobs in Tai Feng Lou’s kitchen? I remember him. I recognized back then that he was also a spirit creature. But I thought there was something wrong with his head. He never slacked off while working. At first, I assumed he was just pretending to be a cook at Tai Feng Lou to make a living while experiencing human life, but he was genuinely learning the craft and working seriously. The pastries he made were actually pretty good too.”

“I think I once ate a pastry he made. What was it called again…”

“I think it was longevity peaches. They looked especially exquisite. There weren’t many pastry chefs in Tai Feng Lou who were truly skilled. I remember it was some prince’s birthday banquet, and Manager Lu wanted to secure the order, so he had me go over and praise how beautiful the longevity peach pastries looked. They were filled with red bean paste and tasted really good.”

“That spirit creature… couldn’t have been Zhao Cheng’an, right?” Chen Huihong exclaimed in shock.

Qin Huai nodded heavily. It was good that Chen Huihong remembered Zhao Cheng’an at all.

“Then Sister Hong, do you remember anything else about Zhao Cheng’an’s first life?” Qin Huai pressed.

Chen Huihong thought for a moment, then shook her head.

“I wasn’t familiar with him. I don’t think we even spoke,” she said uncertainly. “Probably not. You know me—I’m just a plant spirit. I never really wanted to make friends with other spirit creatures. During my first tribulation, I always believed that less trouble was better. As long as nobody came looking for me, I would never take the initiative to approach others.”

“And I only stayed in Beiping for less than two years before leaving for somewhere else. Then I got shot dead by bandits. If I remember correctly, a few months before I left Beiping, Zhao Cheng’an, Master Chen, and Master Chen’s apprentice all left Tai Feng Lou to work as cooks for the Li family.”

“I only knew about it because Manager Lu complained to me about it. He said Jiang Chengde was really inconsiderate. He only cared about introducing Master Chen to a better job and didn’t think about Tai Feng Lou’s future development.”

“Master Chen was already old and couldn’t work for many more years. Zhao Cheng’an’s cooking skills were average, and only his white-dough pastries were somewhat decent, so he wasn’t that important. But Master Chen’s apprentice—the one surnamed Xia—had top-tier skill and talent. Sending someone like that to the Li residence instead of keeping him at Tai Feng Lou was a huge loss.”

“The apprentice surnamed Xia… was that Xia Sheng?” Qin Huai asked again.

“How would I know? I can’t remember their names. I don’t even remember Master Chen’s full name. I only remember that his sweet-and-sour carp was incredible. After leaving Beiping, I never ate sweet-and-sour carp that delicious again.”

Qin Huai: “…Then which Li family was this?”

“How would I know? There were so many wealthy Li families in Beiping. Probably some rich and generous household,” Chen Huihong replied. She squeezed her eyes shut, digging through her memories, before adding, “Zhao Cheng’an and Master Chen seemed pretty close. I think Zhao Cheng’an lived with Master Chen the whole time.”

Qin Huai could tell Chen Huihong truly knew only this much. Any further and she’d just be making things up.

With this, Qin Huai could roughly piece together the timeline of Zhao Cheng’an’s first life.

He searched for work, met Chen Qiusheng, clung to him persistently, and eventually Chen Qiusheng softened and introduced him to Tai Feng Lou. Zhao Cheng’an successfully got hired and continued living at Chen Qiusheng’s home. Because his talent wasn’t outstanding, Chen Qiusheng never accepted him as a disciple. Instead, Xia Sheng became Chen Qiusheng’s apprentice, and later followed him to work as a cook for another wealthy household.

From the look of it, Zhao Cheng’an’s life back then had probably been fairly decent. In those times, famous restaurant chefs and cooks serving wealthy families never lacked food or clothing. Whatever else Zhao Cheng’an might have lacked, he probably ate quite well.

The only unknown was why his tribulation failed. But Qin Huai felt that the reason might not even matter. After all, mayfly spirits underwent tribulation precisely because they wanted to fail. Once a spirit creature truly wished for failure, any ridiculous reason could cause it.

Maybe even disliking the saltiness of their last meal before death could make them fail.

After organizing all of this in his head, Qin Huai glanced at the participant count in the group video call and realized everyone had joined—even Chen Gong.

He immediately cleared his throat and carefully recounted everything he had just witnessed inside Zhao Cheng’an’s dream.

At the end, Qin Huai sighed emotionally.

“Actually, looking at it this way, Zhao Cheng’an’s tribulation is the one that aligns most with his heart. In his first life, he was a cook and learned pastry-making. Even in this life, he’s still a pastry chef. Seems like he really loves making pastries. Combined with the experience from his previous lives, once he attains enlightenment someday, he might actually break the highest ranking ever achieved by a white-dough chef in the Record of Famous Chefs.”

Luo Jun didn’t care about rankings at all. He just couldn’t eat freshly made pastries from Zhiweiju while stuck in Mountain City.

“Qin Huai, do you want Zhao Cheng’an to wake up?” Luo Jun asked directly.

“Huh? Me?” Qin Huai was completely caught off guard. As if Zhao Cheng’an would wake up just because he wanted him to.

“Mayfly spirits are a very special kind of spirit creature. Most spirit creatures have never seen a mayfly successfully pass tribulation, but that doesn’t mean none exist,” Luo Jun said. “People rarely encounter them because even after succeeding, mayflies still sleep for decades and only wake for a few days at a time. Normally the chances of meeting one are already tiny, let alone a successful one.”

“So mayflies actually can pass tribulation,” Qin Huai understood.

“Very rarely. Some unlucky ones failed to fail in their first life because they died unexpectedly at a young age and left behind no regrets, so they succeeded by accident. After returning, they became extremely depressed, spending their days lying around, wishing they could sleep for hundreds of years at a time because they didn’t want to wake up.”

Qin Huai: “…Hearing it this way, succeeding in tribulation really isn’t a good thing for mayflies.”

“So I’m asking whether you want to help Zhao Cheng’an succeed,” Luo Jun said expressionlessly. “If you really help him succeed, the first thing he might do after waking up is figure out how to fail again.”

Qin Huai sighed. Tribulation really was unfair—some spirit creatures desperately wanted success but could never achieve it, while others tried every trick possible and still couldn’t fail.

“Let nature take its course,” Qin Huai said. “The system says Zhao Cheng’an still has two dream sequences left. Maybe after seeing all of them, I’ll understand what his heart knot is. If I discover some recipe hint telling me to make a dish for him that would trigger enlightenment… then I probably won’t make it for him yet. Mayflies really are… special.”

Hearing that, Chen Huihong relaxed.

“Xiao Qin, it’s good that you think this way. Tribulation can’t be forced. Of course I really want to succeed, but if I fail, I don’t think it’d be too terrible. In this life, I just want to stay by Huihui’s side.”

“I want to succeed too,” Qu Jing said softly. “I’m happy I remembered Grandpa. At least I didn’t forget him. I’m also happy I found my parents again. At least I still have the chance to make up for my regrets. If I had failed my tribulation without ever waking up, I think I would’ve found that a little regrettable.”

Chen Huihong frantically signaled Qu Jing with her eyes, trying to imply that such things should only be said privately during tea gatherings, not here.

Qin Huai: “…Sister Hong, we’re on a video call. Do you really think I can’t see you making faces at the camera?”

Ignoring all the silent little interactions in everyone’s video windows, Chen Gong shared his thoughts in the tone of a formal work report.

“I also think there’s no need to force success in tribulation. Even in the final life, as long as one lives comfortably and freely without regrets, that’s enough. Of course, this is merely the irresponsible opinion of a spirit creature who has already succeeded in tribulation. For those who haven’t succeeded yet, I still hope they can succeed.”

After speaking, Chen Gong stared directly into his phone screen.

Luo Jun instantly exploded.

“Wenyao Fish, what exactly do you mean by that? You failed in your first life too—what right do you have to speak sarcastically at me? This is only my first life! How do you know I won’t succeed on my own later? Let me tell you something: if you could succeed on your own, then so can I! I don’t need Qin Huai’s help at all!”

After shouting that, Luo Jun hung up the voice call and angrily exited the group chat.

Qin Huai: “…”

Everyone chatted casually for a little while longer before finally ending the call completely.

Qin Huai set down his phone and looked at Shi Dadan, who hadn’t spoken a single word the entire time and had just been silently playing with his phone.

“Old Shi, what do you think?”

“Me?” Shi Dadan looked up blankly. “I think things are pretty good right now. Just let things happen naturally. Xiao Qin, are you still making egg tarts tomorrow?”

“I can. I’ll make plain steamed buns in the morning and egg tarts in the afternoon. Anything else you want to eat?”

Shi Dadan smacked his lips.

“If possible, make some rice cakes too. I haven’t eaten rice cakes in a while. Hearing you mention them today suddenly made me crave them.”

“Sure,” Qin Huai agreed readily.

The next morning at nine, Qin Huai headed to work at Zhiweiju as usual, carrying two books in his arms.

By now, everyone was already used to Qin Huai bringing books into the kitchen.

Master Zhou stood smiling beside Qin Huai’s workstation, and on the counter sat Qin Huai’s breakfast for the day.

Master Hua had made beef hand-pulled noodles, Master Zhou had made soup-filled xiaolongbao, and Master Zhang had fried a soft-centered egg. Although the combination wasn’t exactly harmonious, it still counted as an all-star lineup.

As usual, Qin Huai set down his books and ate breakfast while watching Master Zhou knead dough.

Maybe it was because he had watched too many of Jiang Chengde’s smooth, flowing tutorial videos the previous night. Even though Jiang Chengde hadn’t kneaded dough at all in the rice cake tutorial, Qin Huai still felt, while watching Master Zhou today, that Master Zhou’s stats simply weren’t maxed out.

There was still a considerable gap.

Not smooth enough.
Not satisfying enough.
It lacked the beauty of fully maxed-out stats.

“I heard from Old Third that you took a liking to a painting yesterday. Did you gain any insights from the exhibition?” Master Zhou asked cheerfully.

“Yes.” Qin Huai nodded solemnly. “Master Zhou, I think I finally understand why the pastries I make don’t look good enough, and why the pastries Zhao Cheng’an and I make lack personal style.”

Master Zhou looked at Qin Huai in surprise. He hadn’t expected the kid to genuinely gain some kind of enlightenment from an art exhibition.

The moment Qin Huai said this, Zhao Cheng’an also stopped what he was doing, his face practically screaming: What does this have to do with me?

“Why?” Master Zhou asked.

“Because our skills still aren’t good enough,” Qin Huai declared powerfully. “To put it plainly, Zhao Cheng’an and I have very similar styles and aesthetics when making pastries. We both like textbook-style pastries—proper, standard, perfectly neat. We both like imitation.”

“It’s just that Zhao Cheng’an’s technique is slightly better than mine, while my talent is slightly higher than his, so we each have our own strengths and weaknesses.”

Master Zhou nodded in satisfaction, looking like a teacher pleased that his student was teachable.

“So what do you think you should do now?” Master Zhou asked.

“Practice,” Qin Huai replied. “Our direction isn’t wrong. We actually do have our own personal style already, but we’re just too weak.”

“Blindly imitating textbooks obviously won’t work. But if we become the textbook, then there’s no problem.”

Master Zhou: ?

Zhao Cheng’an: ??

Tan Weian, who had just come by to deliver pastries: ???

Tan Weian: Bro, have you lost your mind?! Do you know the last person who boasted like this in front of Master Zhou got scolded into—

After recovering from his shock, Master Zhou revealed a deeply meaningful smile that slowly turned into a half-smile.

“So… how exactly are you and Old Third planning to become the textbook?” he asked.

“I don’t know,” Qin Huai answered honestly. He still couldn’t fully understand Jiang Chengde’s tutorial videos for locust flower buns, so naturally he had no idea how to become a “textbook” like Jiang Chengde.

But now he had a goal. He had a direction. He understood that his aesthetic sense actually wasn’t the problem.

He was simply weak.

The direction was correct. The problem was his strength—his stats weren’t high enough.

“But I know my current ability isn’t enough. None of my skill stats have been trained to the level needed to become a textbook.”

“You haven’t either, so I don’t know how to describe what kind of level would reach what I’m talking about.”

Master Zhou burst into laughter.

“I thought Old Third was already arrogant enough back then. When he became my disciple, he told me his goal was to surpass me before turning thirty-five. But you’re even crazier—you’re directly saying that even I am not there yet.”

Tan Weian had already lowered his head to stare at the plate of osmanthus cakes in his hands, wondering whether the pastries would eventually end up in Qin Huai’s mouth… or smashed onto his face.

“But arrogance requires capital,” Master Zhou said. “Xiao Qin, your current talent alone isn’t enough capital to be this arrogant. However, since you can say something like this, I believe you must have truly realized something at the exhibition.”

“So now—can you show me exactly what you’ve realized?”

Master Zhou stared directly at Qin Huai.

Of course Qin Huai could demonstrate it.

He hadn’t actually realized anything while visiting the exhibition, but while watching Jiang Chengde’s rice cake tutorial, he truly had understood a lot.

This was the first time he had ever managed to comprehend Jiang Chengde’s tutorial videos. To be honest, Qin Huai had stayed up until two in the morning watching them over and over again.

Literally replaying them repeatedly.

Qin Huai nodded confidently, glanced around, and locked onto the person most suitable for running errands.

“Tan Weian, can you help me get some soaked glutinous rice and regular rice?”

“I’m going to make rice cakes.”

“Rice cakes?” Tan Weian cried out in disbelief. “Haven’t you been practicing knife techniques and laminated pastry recently?”

“But I want to make rice cakes.” Qin Huai was already itching to show everyone. He couldn’t achieve Jiang Chengde’s effortless smoothness, but he could imitate at least a tiny bit of the spirit behind it.

“Old Third, you go get it,” Master Zhou ordered.

Zhao Cheng’an immediately set down his work and left, with Tan Weian following after him.

“What exactly did you guys do at the art exhibition yesterday?” Tan Weian immediately began gossiping the moment they walked away. “I’ve rarely seen Qin Huai this confident. His whole face is basically screaming, ‘I’m about to show you something huge.’”

Zhao Cheng’an also looked bewildered.

“How would I know? Yesterday we just walked around the exhibition, bought a cheap painting, and split up. I thought it was weird too.”

“Did Qin Huai hit his head on the way home and go crazy? Has he ever been like this before?”

Tan Weian thought for a moment.

“There was one time. But that was after he rode several roller coasters in a row and suddenly achieved enlightenment afterward.”

“I’ve never heard of anyone becoming enlightened from visiting an exhibition though. You’ve been consistently going to exhibitions these past few years—is it because exhibitions really can lead to enlightenment?”

Zhao Cheng’an: …

How the hell would I know?!

I don’t go to exhibitions for enlightenment. I go so I can take leave from work, make investments, and scam a little money on the side!