AGN -Chapter 444 The Exchange Meeting

“Master Zhou, these are the piggy buns and hedgehog buns I just steamed. Could you please take a look?”

Inside Zhiweiju, Qin Huai was, as always, frantically grinding proficiency levels, bringing each newly made pastry over for Master Zhou to inspect.

Qin Huai still remembered that his original purpose for coming to Zhiweiju this time was actually to grind finger-technique proficiency. Although things had taken a strange turn and now he was grinding every kind of proficiency possible, finger technique was undoubtedly still the top priority. After all, the side quest for the Four Happiness Rolls was still there, and finger-skill proficiency really did need to be leveled up.

Because of that, Qin Huai made the other pastries almost blindly through repetition, but whenever a pastry involved detailed shaping work that required finger techniques, he would always have Master Zhou check it afterward.

The smile never left Master Zhou’s face.

Nowadays, as long as he saw Qin Huai, he smiled. Previously, there were times when he was still stuck in a sarcastic mood from mocking someone, or carrying over irritation from being angry at someone else. But now none of that mattered anymore. The moment he saw Qin Huai, his expression changed faster than his mood.

“Very good. Very standard.”

Master Zhou nodded with great satisfaction as he looked at the piggy buns and hedgehog buns in the steamer—every single one so perfectly uniform they looked as though they had just rolled off an assembly line.

If this had been before, Master Zhou definitely would have been dissatisfied seeing Qin Huai make pastries like this. Either directly or indirectly, he would have pointed out that such pastries lacked individuality, lacked soul, lacked personal style.

But not anymore.

Qin Huai’s shocking philosophy—that dishes simply needed more practice, that every flaw came from stats not being maxed out, and that textbooks themselves represented the highest form of aesthetics—had deeply moved Master Zhou. So much so that now, when he looked at Qin Huai’s copy-paste-style pastries, he actually felt that this was Qin Huai’s style.

This too was a form of aesthetics.

How should one put it?

The scholars themselves had come forward to defend his philosophy.

In the steamer next to Qin Huai’s were Zhao Cheng’an’s pastries. Coincidentally, the timing was just right. The apprentice keeping track of the steaming time turned off the heat and lifted the lid, revealing Four Happiness Flower Rolls inside that were equally precise and standardized, as though produced by an industrial assembly line.

Master Zhou frowned when he saw Zhao Cheng’an’s flower rolls.

As Master Zhou’s direct disciple, Zhao Cheng’an normally had no required KPIs at work. He had already mastered all the foundational skills he could rely on and learned all the techniques available to him. Master Zhou usually didn’t force him to practice anything specific. His teaching style toward Zhao Cheng’an was basically free-range management.

Not that stricter management would help anyway.

Zhao Cheng’an was naturally lazy. If someone really tried military-style high-pressure management on him, he genuinely might defect from the sect. To be precise, military-style discipline wasn’t even necessary. Right now, there was already a workaholic standing beside him. Since the workload had increased so much that he could no longer arrive at work leisurely at nine and instead had to wake up at seven, Zhao Cheng’an was already beginning to entertain thoughts of betraying the master-disciple relationship.

Faced with this kind of junior disciple, Master Zhou didn’t have many options.

He was a strict teacher who adapted to each student individually. Since his disciple was lazy by nature, he had beaten him when he was younger, scolded him, lectured him, persuaded him—none of it had worked over the years. Laziness was carved into Zhao Cheng’an’s bones. Giving him freedom while occasionally correcting him when necessary was already the best educational method Master Zhou could think of.

After all, good disciples were hard to find these days. Talented disciples with high comprehension were even harder to find. Hard work could be cultivated later, but talent was innate. You couldn’t demand everything. Having a disciple like this was already rare enough; one should learn to be satisfied.

At least, that was how Master Zhou comforted himself before witnessing what Qin Huai looked like once he truly started grinding.

Incidentally, starting work at five in the morning was no longer enough for Qin Huai. He now basically arrived at his workstation every day between 4:30 and 4:40. As a result, An Youyou had also started coming in at three in the morning to prepare ingredients.

Now, when the master chefs of Zhiweiju looked at Qin Huai, they no longer saw someone glowing with golden light.

They practically saw green light.

Sometimes they stared straight at him with expressions that practically screamed:

Isn’t this my long-lost precious disciple? Where have you been all these years?!

Smart, insightful, capable of finding his own astonishing path without excessive guidance. Most importantly, proud yet humble—and hardworking.

Not merely hardworking.

Exceptionally hardworking.

The kind of hardworking where someone wakes up at four in the morning to make pastries.

His only flaw was that his brain wasn’t entirely normal. He constantly fantasized about having a game system.

But that didn’t matter.

Mental abnormalities didn’t interfere with pastry-making or daily life anyway.

As the variety of breakfast foods Qin Huai made continued increasing—rice noodle rolls, wontons, Yangchun noodles, sesame balls, all kinds of baked flatbreads and pancakes, and even the occasional jianbing whenever he got tired of making other breakfast items—the master chefs at Zhiweiju increasingly realized just how absurdly deep Qin Huai’s pastry repertoire really was and how wide his range extended.

To put it simply, every master chef in Zhiweiju now believed Qin Huai could specialize in their category and shine brilliantly, eventually becoming the very best.

What? You say Xiao Qin actually isn’t especially skilled in this category, and that these aren’t his specialty pastries?

What do you know?!

The only reason he isn’t skilled is because he hasn’t devoted enough time and energy to it yet and hasn’t met the right master in that category. If Xiao Qin wanted to, he would absolutely become extraordinary at it!

Quite a few master chefs whose skills—and fighting ability—were inferior to Master Zhou’s had already begun muttering inwardly:

Zhou Guanghai, what exactly have you done to deserve this?

Are you really that amazing?

You’re only the so-called Number One White-Dough Chef.

You weren’t born as Number One either. You climbed your way up through years of struggle. You’re not some overwhelmingly dominant genius.

You’re not THAT incredible.

So what right do you have to monopolize Xiao Qin? Xiao Qin never formally acknowledged you as his master. Sure, sometimes he drops the “Zhou” and just calls you “Master,” but most of the time he still calls you Master Zhou!

At least Zhou Guanghai still has some shame and didn’t trick Xiao Qin into formally becoming his disciple.

This so-called Number One White-Dough Chef is only average anyway. When it comes to XX-type pastries, I’m the real expert! Zhou Guanghai has taught him long enough already. Time to step aside—it’s my turn now!

Some master chefs merely thought these things.

Others secretly acted on them.

Qin Huai made so many basic breakfast items every day that eventually at least one would overlap with a particular master chef’s area of expertise. Naturally, nobody wanted to disturb him while he was actually making pastries. But during morning meetings, when he wasn’t cooking, many of the master chefs would seize the opportunity to stuff their handwritten notebooks into Qin Huai’s arms and launch into rapid-fire explanations.

Nowadays, Boss Su spent most of the morning meetings mediating disputes caused by master chefs aggressively stuffing notebooks at Qin Huai.

Some chefs only gave him notes once every three or four days.

Others did it once a day.

Naturally, the once-every-three-days faction became furious at the once-a-day faction, believing they were deliberately showing off and wasting Qin Huai’s time.

“How much experience could you possibly have to summarize? Aren’t you only at that level anyway?”

Then old grudges and new grudges would erupt together, escalating from arguments over notebooks into disputes over whose skills were superior. Challenges to pastry competitions followed. Nobody accepted defeat, and the arguments continued.

Originally, morning meetings only lasted twenty minutes.

Now they had stretched to forty.

There were simply too many conflicts to mediate.

Of course, all of this was merely insignificant background noise.

At least to Master Zhou.

As the chef officially guiding Qin Huai on the surface, he had no need to stuff notebooks into Qin Huai’s hands every day like the others. He could advise him however he pleased, and if Qin Huai wanted, Master Zhou could even demonstrate techniques personally on the spot.

Though in truth, Master Zhou rarely did that.

A master teaching a disciple hand-by-hand usually happened only in the beginner stage of learning. At that point, imitation was the best teacher.

But Qin Huai wasn’t learning new things anymore.

He was simply grinding skill proficiency.

Although Master Zhou didn’t fully understand what exactly the proficiency system in Qin Huai’s imagined “game system” represented, he could roughly tell that Qin Huai was currently in the final phase before a massive breakthrough after long accumulation.

He didn’t need to learn any new techniques.

He only needed to continuously reinforce what he already knew and build an even stronger foundation.

That was also why Master Zhou had been smiling nonstop lately whenever he looked at Qin Huai.

Too insightful.

Too aware of what he himself needed to do.

And far too hardworking, persistent, and determined.

Compared to the third disciple in his own family…

Master Zhou unconsciously let out a sigh.

“Master Zhou, what’s wrong?” Qin Huai asked, following Master Zhou’s gaze toward the Four Happiness Flower Rolls nearby.

Since Master Zhou never interfered with whatever pastries Zhao Cheng’an chose to make, Zhao Cheng’an had always made whatever he felt like making. Previously, he always chose the easiest options.

But now…

Qin Huai simply made whatever he was best at.

The day before yesterday, he spent the entire day making diced-meat buns. Yesterday, it was Four Happiness tangyuan. Today, it became Four Happiness flower rolls.

If Zhao Cheng’an already knew how to make double-crab buns, then once crab season arrived in a couple of months, the entire Zhiweiju would probably be filled with the aroma of double-crab buns.

Even Qin Huai, who was so immersed in grinding proficiency that he could barely pull himself away, vaguely felt that Zhao Cheng’an seemed a little unhinged lately.

Thinking about it carefully, though, it made sense.

Mayflies were originally lazy spirits who loved constantly trying new things and experiencing life. For Zhao Cheng’an—a wealthy mayfly spirit—to even be willing to hold a job was already deeply moving. Asking him to come to work every morning at seven was practically equivalent to asking him to reincarnate and restart life from scratch.

Qin Huai felt he ought to say something in Zhao Cheng’an’s defense.

“Brother Cheng’an’s Four Happiness flower rolls are actually really beautiful. Before this, I’d only seen him make Auspicious Cloud Pattern Pastry, so I knew he could do cloud patterns, but I didn’t expect his cloud-pattern work to be this good. His cloud patterns are way better than mine,” Qin Huai said.

Master Zhou replied, “Back then, Old Third also studied under Master Tan for several years. Otherwise, why do you think he gets along so well with Little Tan? Cloud patterns are Master Tan’s specialty, so naturally Old Third learned them too.”

“It’s just… why does his pastry still feel so heavily ‘craftsman-like’?” Master Zhou stared at the Four Happiness flower rolls, utterly puzzled.

Qin Huai couldn’t refute that statement.

Zhao Cheng’an’s pastries really did carry too much “craftsman’s air” to them. His direction, mindset, and preferences when making pastries were very similar to Qin Huai’s.

But he lacked one crucial thing—

He had never seen pastries made by Jiang Chengde.

He definitely had in his first life, but Zhao Cheng’an no longer remembered.

Because Qin Huai had seen the true “correct answer,” the textbook-style pastries he made were authentic originals. Zhao Cheng’an, meanwhile, had never seen the true answer key. Yet the subconscious remnants from his first life’s apprenticeship still drove him toward that direction. The result was that he was imitating a textbook he had never actually read.

So his pastries felt like pirated copies.

Reprints.

At first glance they looked fine, but the more carefully one examined them, the stranger they seemed.

Qin Huai could only helplessly admit there was nothing he could do about that. Unless Zhao Cheng’an awakened memories from his first life, or unless some once-in-a-generation genius appeared in the white-dough world and made a batch of guaranteed S-rank pastries for Zhao Cheng’an to see, the odds of Zhao Cheng’an suddenly achieving enlightenment were honestly very low.

“These past few days he’s been thinking about traveling abroad again. His heart just can’t settle down.” Master Zhou sighed. “Going abroad is definitely out of the question. He only just got back not long ago. But next month there’s an exchange meeting in Beiping that he can attend instead.”

“Xiao Qin, do you want to go with Old Third?” Master Zhou asked.

“Me? An exchange meeting? Exchange what? Represent what?” Qin Huai looked confused.

Back when he was still at Huangji, he had heard Huang Anyao mention exchange meetings before. But Huang Anyao was only half an insider. At those gatherings he obviously couldn’t discuss cooking techniques with professional chefs, nor would anyone discuss them with him. All he could do was eat, drink, and comment on which organizer served the best food.

“It’s an exchange meeting organized by the new owner of Baobao Zhai. Honestly, who knows what he was thinking—even an invitation got sent to our Zhiweiju,” Master Zhou said. “I heard from Little Tan that the owner studied abroad for several years and learned some kind of new management methods overseas. After coming back, he carried out major reforms. Baobao Zhai’s profits over the last two years have probably improved because those reforms worked well.”

“In the past, red-dough chefs only interacted with red-dough chefs, and white-dough chefs only interacted with white-dough chefs. Since Baobao Zhai sent us an invitation, it wouldn’t look good if Zhiweiju didn’t attend.”

“Little Su has to go to Gusu next month to discuss factory matters with Zheng Da, so he won’t have time. Originally, the plan was to draw lots during the morning meeting to decide who would go. But then Old Third heard about it and insisted on attending.”

“I figure he’s already lost focus on making pastries anyway. Giving him something to look forward to might at least motivate him to behave and make pastries properly for a while.”

“I also heard from Little Tan that you know Tong Deyan from Baobao Zhai and that you two get along pretty well. So, do you want to go with Old Third?”

“If you do go, I can pull some strings and reserve a table for you two at Fenyuan. Apparently Elder Xia’s health hasn’t been great this year, and he needs frequent breaks. Tables at Fenyuan are getting harder and harder to book. It’s one of the top private kitchens in the country.”

“Little Tan told me you’ve never eaten there before, and Old Third hasn’t either. Last time he went to Beiping he couldn’t get a reservation. If you’re going to Beiping, you absolutely have to try it once.”

“There are also a lot of art exhibitions in Beiping. Xiao Qin, if you go, take Old Third around to some galleries—and keep an eye on him so he doesn’t buy too many paintings.”

“Buying eighty-eight paintings in one go… can he even finish looking at them all?”

The moment Master Zhou said that, Qin Huai instantly felt tempted, though he still hesitated slightly.

“It’s definitely fine for Brother Cheng’an to represent Zhiweiju, but if I go too, wouldn’t that…”

“Little Su will handle it for you.”

At that point, since Master Zhou had already said so much, Qin Huai naturally couldn’t refuse. He had originally planned to visit Beiping anyway—not for Fenyuan, but to eat a meal personally cooked by Tong Deyan at Baobao Zhai.

“About what date is the exchange meeting?”

“July 15th. It lasts two days. You and Old Third can stay another day to have fun in Beiping, then come back on the 18th or 19th.”

“Alright. Thank you, Master Zhou, for giving me this opportunity,” Qin Huai said with a smile.

Master Zhou smiled back and kindly reminded him:

“Grinding proficiency is fine, but honestly, I don’t really understand the thing you keep talking about. Still, don’t push yourself so hard that you wear yourself out.”

“Sometimes you should learn from Old Third and Little Tan too. You need to know how to slack off once in a while. Balance work and rest. Relax a bit.”

“As for all those little notebooks everyone keeps giving you, just skim through them casually. They can’t really summarize anything too profound anyway. If there’s something you genuinely don’t understand, just ask directly. If they’re willing to teach, there’s no need to force yourself to learn from the notebooks.”

“Zhou Guanghai, what exactly do you mean by that?!”

Master Hua’s furious roar came from the distance.

“What do you mean ‘just skim through them casually’? Those notebooks are the crystallization of my life’s work!”

Master Hua dashed over to Qin Huai in a single stride. First, he viciously glared at Master Zhou in his heart, then immediately turned toward the piggy buns and hedgehog buns in the steamer with a smiling face.

“Xiao Qin, your pastries really are getting prettier and prettier.”

And finally, the dagger emerged from the map.

“I remember you still haven’t made noodles today, right? So what are you planning to make today—stretched noodles, hand-pulled noodles, or hand-rolled noodles? If there’s anything you don’t understand, ask me anytime. What your Master Zhou just said actually makes sense too. If you don’t understand something, just ask.”

“I have plenty of time.”

“Really, plenty of time!”