AGN -Chapter 455 Shengsheng (Part 6)

Qin Huai stayed in the kitchen of the Li Residence for over an hour watching Zhao Cheng’an make pastries, and roughly figured out the current situation.

At this point in time, six full years had passed since the last incident. Xia Sheng was already 13 years old if you didn’t count nominal age, no wonder he had grown into the appearance of a teenager. As for Zhao Cheng’an showing no change in appearance over six years, everyone accepted it quite calmly. He had originally looked like a boy of around twelve or thirteen anyway—just the kind of extremely sturdy build that even many adults in this era never managed to achieve in their lifetime.

On top of that, everyone had tacitly accepted that Zhao Cheng’an’s brain wasn’t quite normal and that he was a fool. It was only natural for a fool to have some physical oddities compared to ordinary people.

Honestly, from the perspective of a spirit undergoing tribulation, being treated as a fool wasn’t even that bad. As long as you were considered foolish, all strange behavior became reasonable.

Over these six years, Zhao Cheng’an and Xia Sheng had both been training at Taifeng Tower. Zhao Cheng’an specialized in white-case pastry work, while Xia Sheng learned whatever he could. Both of them were apprentice chefs with wages at Taifeng Tower. The only difference was that Xia Sheng had been taken in as a personal disciple by Chen Qiusheng earlier this year.

Of course, their wages were the same.

This Li Residence they were working in was, in Northern Capital terms, just an ordinary wealthy household. Naturally, it couldn’t compare to noble or royal families. Their ancestors had once produced a Hanlin scholar, so they still had some scholarly prestige, but after the imperial examination system was abolished, the current Master Li abandoned scholarship and turned to business, making the family quite prosperous.

The “Young Master Li” Xia Sheng mentioned earlier was the only legitimate son of Master Li. He was still studying, had just married at the end of last year, and his wife was Jiang Huiqin, the younger sister of Jiang Chengde.

Because of this connection, Chen Qiusheng had been recommended by Jiang Chengde to work as a chef in the Li Residence, and he had brought Zhao Cheng’an and Xia Sheng along with him.

Compared to Taifeng Tower, the Li Residence kitchen was clearly much less busy. Taifeng Tower was a restaurant, with a constant flow of customers every day. From servants to head chefs, everyone was so busy they wished they had eight hands and feet.

The Li Residence kitchen, however, had more than a dozen people ranging from helpers to assistant chefs, all serving only the Li family. There were many masters in the household, but they were also divided into ranks.

The most respected were the Old Madam, Master Li and his wife, and the legitimate line of Young Master Li and his wife. Next came Master Li’s illegitimate sons and other branch relatives living in the residence. Below that were the concubine-born daughters and concubines themselves. At the very bottom were poor relatives who came seeking favors.

The kitchen was always the most gossip-filled place in any household, and the sound of the stove fire conveniently covered up all conversations. Qin Huai wandered around the kitchen listening to the servants gossip about the household masters, thoroughly entertained—like he had gone back to his university days watching palace intrigue dramas with Qin Luo.

The master of the household read the Four Books and Five Classics while doing business. The young master studied in university and prepared to study abroad while also dating and marrying in an almost idol-drama-like romance. The eldest daughter had just gone through a dramatic divorce and was preparing to return home with her daughter, while Madam Li had already been crying for four or five days, lamenting the family misfortune of producing a divorced daughter.

The concubines were fully immersed in internal power struggles. The Old Madam, being elderly, was obsessed with sweets. The illegitimate sons of the young master were suffering through modern-style schooling, miserable and uninterested in fighting for inheritance.

What an eventful Li Residence.

If this version of Zhao Cheng’an were working in such a place filled with endless gossip every day, he would probably be so overwhelmed with eating drama that he’d forget where he was.

But the Zhao Cheng’an of his first life clearly wasn’t like that. He still had a strong sense of professionalism. As long as he was working, he would do it seriously. Even if his skills weren’t great, he made up for it with sincerity.

Yes—Qin Huai felt Zhao Cheng’an’s current culinary skill level was not very good.

Whether it was kneading dough or preparing fillings, everything was fairly average—borderline poor even. The red bean filling Zhao Cheng’an made for his pastries contained an absurd amount of sugar, almost enough to be lethal. If sold at Zhiwei Pavilion, one bite could make any sugar-loving child not want anything sweet for the next six hours.

Qin Huai estimated his current pastry skill level to be between C+ and B. Not terrible, but considering Zhao Cheng’an had only formally trained for seven years—and likely spent a large portion of that time doing odd jobs as an apprentice—this level was still acceptable.

The only issue was that compared to Xia Sheng next door, he fell short.

For the same six years, Xia Sheng was practically “cheating.”

Not only was he extremely efficient, completing all cutting and preparation tasks in the shortest time for Chen Qiusheng, but his skill range was also wide. He could handle all ingredients, knead dough, pound meat, chop wood, light fires, massage shoulders, rub legs—and if needed, even cook a couple of dishes at the stove.

Because there was an evening banquet, the kitchen was especially busy that afternoon. No one could idle around. If there was one person who was truly free, it was undoubtedly Zhao Cheng’an.

He only had to make pastries—nothing else.

Such an easy, well-paid job. No wonder Zhao Cheng’an had been so eager to work in the Li Residence.

Of course, that peace didn’t last long.

Someone arrived in the kitchen.

It was a woman wearing a light green new dress, her hair neatly coiled up with two golden hairpins, jade earrings hanging from her ears, and a jade bracelet on her wrist. A maid followed behind her.

Qin Huai guessed she was probably Jiang Chengde’s younger sister, Jiang Huiqin.

Jiang Huiqin walked into the kitchen smiling brightly. She took an exaggerated deep breath and said in an equally exaggerated tone to Chen Qiusheng: “Wow, Chef Chen, today’s dishes smell amazing. I could smell the braised pork elbow and fish soup from far away.”

“Chef Chen, you really are biased. I’ve been asking for fish soup for half a month and you never made it. But now that it’s a family banquet tonight and Mingyi asked you to prepare some dishes, you immediately made fish soup.”

Chen Qiusheng calmly ladled out a bowl of fish soup and said, “Yes, yes, my fault. This first bowl of fish soup will be secretly served to Young Madam as a special portion—my apology.”

Jiang Huiqin happily took it and sipped. Her eyes lit up.

“So fresh! Chef Chen, what did you add? You actually have a secret recipe for fish soup? I didn’t even know! Tell me quickly—I’m going to make it for Mingyi in a couple of days so he knows my cooking skills.”

“Ahem, Young Madam, the Madam asked you to stay out of the kitchen,” the maid reminded gently.

“My mother just told me not to cook too much, saying the fumes would dirty my clothes. I’m just making soup—there’s no smoke.”

Chen Qiusheng couldn’t help teasing, “Yes, yes, soup. A whole pot of it.”

The maid reminded again softly, “Young Madam, the Eldest Miss and the others are arriving soon.”

“Oh right.” Jiang Huiqin finally remembered. She quickly got to the point:

“Chef Chen, do you still have time? My elder sister is coming back today with little Fen. A messenger just reported that Fen caught a chill last night and has been vomiting and having diarrhea since this morning, unable to eat anything. Mother asked if you could make some easily digestible pastries suitable for children. It has to be your cooking—no one else can do it.”

“He makes things too sweet. Grandmother likes sweet food, but Fen can’t eat too much—it’s bad for her teeth.”

Hearing this, Zhao Cheng’an—who had been eavesdropping nearby—immediately became unhappy and defended himself: “Huiqin, how can you say that? You’ve known me for years. Don’t you know my skills? I only make things sweet because the Old Madam likes sweets. I can make non-sweet ones too!”

The maid immediately snapped, glaring at him: “Bold! How dare you address Young Madam so casually—”

But she was interrupted by Jiang Huiqin.

“Alright, Xiao Qin, stop watching those dramas. He’s not very sharp with names—he even called my mother ‘Aunt Xiu Zhen’ last time and she didn’t mind. Just get used to it.”

Then she turned back to Chen Qiusheng: “Chef Chen, do you have anything suitable?”

Chen Qiusheng thought for a moment.

“How about yam cake? It’s easy to digest and not sweet. It’s best for spleen weakness and diarrhea. I’ll start making it now; it should be ready by dinner.”

“That’s wonderful.” Jiang Huiqin smiled brightly and stood there without leaving.

It was obvious she intended to stay and watch Chen Qiusheng make the yam cake. To make it less awkward, she casually found a topic and continued chatting while watching.

“Chef Chen, you really aren’t going to give him a name? It’s already been seven years, and he still doesn’t have a name. We can only call him ‘Ai.’ Last time, even Mother and Grandmother asked me whether he really has no name.”

Zhao Cheng’an immediately answered:

“Lady Huiqin, names are very important. They can’t be given casually. A name stays with a person for their entire life. If I live to 120, it would stay with me for over a hundred years, so of course it must be chosen carefully.”

It was clear Zhao Cheng’an had taken the maid’s earlier words to heart—this time he was calling Jiang Huiqin “Lady Huiqin.”

Chen Qiusheng could only laugh helplessly. He gave Jiang Huiqin a look that said, You see? This is how he is. What can I do about it? and began making the yam cake.

The method for making yam cake was actually very simple. Wash the yam, steam it until fully soft and tender, let it cool, then mash it into a paste. Add a small amount of sugar and steamed flour, and knead it into dough.

If making it in the simplest way, you just roll the dough flat, cut it into strips, and steam it again before eating.

If you want something more elaborate, you can add ingredients into the dough—candied fruits, dried fruits, or date paste. If you add date paste, it becomes date yam cake; if you add milk, it becomes “fluffy jade yam cake”; if you mix in a variety of ingredients, it becomes “eight-treasure yam cake.”

While Chen Qiusheng was making it, not only Jiang Huiqin was watching—Zhao Cheng’an also leaned in to observe, and even Xia Sheng occasionally glanced over. With so many eager “students” watching, Chen Qiusheng’s movements naturally slowed down.

“Chef Chen, is Ping’an still studying in school?” Jiang Huiqin asked.

“He is. That kid is doing pretty well. If he studies a few more years, he might even have a chance like Young Master Li—go to university and become a university student!” Chen Qiusheng said proudly. “After he graduates and works in government, our Chen family will have brought honor to our ancestors.”

“Even though Ping’an didn’t inherit my craft, I have Xia Sheng as my apprentice, so I can still face my ancestors with pride.”

“When I’m old, I can retire back in the Northeast with dignity.”

“And him?” Jiang Huiqin looked at Zhao Cheng’an. “You’ve taught him for so many years, and even though you’re not exactly a white-case master yourself, you really can’t bear to take him as your apprentice?”

Chen Qiusheng said unhappily:

“What do you mean I won’t take him? He’s the one who didn’t think I was good enough.”

Zhao Cheng’an quickly explained:

“Chef Chen, it’s not that I don’t think highly of you. It’s just that I feel your pastries aren’t as tasty as Chef Jiang’s—especially steamed buns.”

“Your pastries aren’t as good as Chef Jiang’s either.”

“Nor are your shaomai.”

“Nor your tangyuan.”

“Nor your rice cakes.”

“This yam cake you’re making—Chef Jiang has made it before too, and his tastes better than yours.”

“Actually, it’s not just pastries. Your cooking is also not as good as Chef Jiang’s. Chef Jiang’s dishes are publicly recognized as the best in the entire Northern Capital. Even the old prince personally praised her.”

Xia Sheng: “……”

Xia Sheng, who had originally leaned in to watch Chen Qiusheng make yam cake, quietly stepped back a few paces and pretended he still had other work to do, slipping away.

Judging by Chen Qiusheng’s expression, he was only a step away from slamming the steamed yam onto Zhao Cheng’an’s face—restrained only by reluctance to waste food and fear of losing his job.

After a long silence, Chen Qiusheng finally squeezed out a sentence through his teeth:

“I know. Shut up.”

Jiang Huiqin nearly laughed herself to death trying to hold it in.

“But there is one thing Chef Jiang can’t compare to you, Chef Chen,” Zhao Cheng’an said.

“You are much better to me and Xia Sheng than Chef Jiang is.”

Chen Qiusheng was still a little angry at first, but hearing that, he couldn’t stay angry anymore. He could only feel helpless—why was he even arguing with a fool?

Hearing this, Jiang Huiqin immediately defended her brother:

“That’s not comparable! You and Xia Sheng both live in Chef Chen’s house, of course he treats you well. If you lived in my house, my brother would treat you well too.”

“It’s not the same,” Zhao Cheng’an said seriously. “Chef Chen is especially good to me and Xia Sheng. He even wants to give us names! Even though mine still hasn’t been decided, and I don’t know if Xia Sheng will get one, Chef Chen is willing to give us names. In this world, no one treats us better than Chef Chen.”

“Hey! You! I’ve given you seven names already!” Chen Qiusheng snapped.

“Wait, Chef Chen, you want to give Xia Sheng a name?” Jiang Huiqin asked curiously, staring at him.

Chen Qiusheng: “……”

“How do you know that?”

“Two days ago, I heard Chef Chen talking secretly with Young Master Mingyi outside. I was squatting by the wall eavesdropping.”

Chen Qiusheng: “……”

“You are not allowed to eavesdrop next time!”

“I didn’t mean to. I just heard there were leftover smoked chicken butts in the kitchen being thrown away, so I thought I might try to sneak some.”

“Even more forbidden!”

“It doesn’t really count as stealing. I was just planning to squat and wait for the chicken butt to be thrown out, then be the first to pick it up and eat it.”

Chen Qiusheng: I’m tired. Just destroy everything.

“Chef Chen, you still haven’t said it—what’s the new name?” Jiang Huiqin pressed.

“It’s nothing. I just asked Young Master Li to help pick a more respectable name for Xia Sheng,” Chen Qiusheng said. “Since I took him as my apprentice, I count as half a father. But I don’t have much money, and I won’t be able to leave him anything in the future.”

“So I can only leave him a good name.”

“A new name, a new beginning.”

“These years I’ve been hearing Ai talk about how important names are, how carefully they should be chosen, and I guess it sank in a bit. I always feel Xia Sheng’s current name isn’t good enough, so I wanted to give him a better one. But I’m not educated, so I had to ask Young Master Li to help think of one.”

Chen Qiusheng said this while smiling and shaking his head.

Zhao Cheng’an immediately said proudly: “See, Lady Huiqin! Names are very important!”