AGN -Chapter 460 Why Is Teacher Xia in Such a Bad Mood Today?

Good news: for some reason, Beijing wasn’t congested at all today. Qin Huai and Zhao Cheng’an arrived at Fenyuan smoothly without any traffic delays.

Bad news: they arrived too early—5:24 p.m.

Having never eaten at Fenyuan before, and never even entered a siheyuan-style courtyard restaurant, Qin Huai and Zhao Cheng’an stood in front of the tightly closed gate feeling an instinctive lack of confidence. They didn’t dare knock. Instead, they wandered back and forth, hesitating, pacing, and sizing things up—looking exactly like two clumsy burglars preparing for a “big job” tonight.

“Why don’t we take a walk around first? I saw a place selling shaobing on the way here. Want to go grab one?” Qin Huai suggested.

Zhao Cheng’an waved his phone menu at him in exasperation. “Qin Huai, can you show a little ambition? We’re about to open a blind box gourmet feast, and you want shaobing? But I did see a convenience store earlier—we could go buy a couple of colas.”

“Cola makes you bloated. You won’t be able to eat if you drink it.”

“If you’ve been hungry all day, eating a shaobing before dinner will help you eat more.”

The two formed a “food duo,” immediately falling into disagreement over whether to buy shaobing or cola first. It looked like the “clumsy burglar duo” was about to break into a heated argument right in front of Fenyuan—when the door suddenly opened.

Zhang Guanghang appeared, dressed in a simple, ordinary chef’s uniform, holding a checklist in his hand. He looked like a newly hired service staff making his debut.

Whether it was his height or his model-like presence, Qin Huai and Zhao Cheng’an couldn’t help but feel that even this plain chef uniform looked like a designer outfit.

“Mr. Qin Huai and Mr. Zhao Cheng’an?” “Little waiter” Zhang marked two checks casually on the list. “You two reserved the 6 p.m. dinner set today, correct?”

“Yes, yes,” they said in unison. “We arrived early.”

“Please come in.” Zhang Guanghang stepped aside and gestured them inside.

The two carefully stepped in, looking around cautiously. They immediately realized Fenyuan was a much larger and more proper siheyuan courtyard than they had imagined. Instantly, they shifted into a “Grandma Liu entering the Grand View Garden” mode.

“There are flowers.”

“Yes, yes, look over there—there’s grass too.”

“And rockeries.”

“Wait, is there a pond inside too?”

“There’s a small pool, but it’s not open to guests. It has a few fish my master likes to eat—freshly caught whenever needed.” Zhang Guanghang replied.

Zhao Cheng’an excitedly turned to Qin Huai. “There are fish! Do you think I can get braised white carp today?”

Zhang Guanghang didn’t respond, only silently noted it down and led them toward their seats.

Fenyuan, located inside a siheyuan courtyard, was likely either a deliberate gimmick by Xia Murui, or simply because he had bought the courtyard and decided to use one wing as a restaurant instead of spending extra money on a separate building.

As a result, the dining area had no fancy decorations. It was simply arranged where furniture and antique shelves originally stood, replaced with identical square dining tables—nothing larger than that.

No wonder Fenyuan didn’t accept tables larger than six people; even six-person seating was already cramped.

“You two are the first guests today. Please take a seat and rest. There are no waiters here—if you need tea or water, please refill it yourselves over there.” After saying that, Zhang Guanghang returned to the kitchen.

The two continued observing.

The hall had five square tables. Further inside were partitioned private rooms. Because the hall was already filled with tables, there was no space for decorations, making it look somewhat plain—almost like a countryside banquet hall.

But considering this was a siheyuan in Beijing’s second ring road, this “plainness” could also be interpreted as elegant minimalism.

Qin Huai and Zhao Cheng’an really wanted to wander around, but they were afraid of breaking rules. If they were caught wandering into staff areas before dinner, they might get kicked out by Xia Murui.

Being kicked out would be a best-case scenario. Worse would be getting caught and sent to the police, with Ling Guangzhao being called to bail them out—then they would truly become famous in Beijing’s culinary circle.

People might still be talking years later, remembering how many years they were sentenced.

So the two could only continue whispering with bold eyes, careful movements, awkward posture, and lowered voices.

“Wow, I’ve heard people say Fenyuan is inside a siheyuan, but I never really understood it. We walked from the gate here with Zhang Guanghang—did you time it? It took us three minutes just to get here!” Qin Huai said in disbelief. “Three minutes—I can circle my house four times in that time.”

“Exactly, exactly. And look at this table—so rustic, simple, and grand. Definitely good wood.” Zhao Cheng’an secretly touched the table several times, clearly impressed.

In the kitchen, while plating cold dishes, Zhang Guanghang glanced at the surveillance feed and silently complained to himself: Yes, good wood indeed—Huanghuali. But just ordinary grade. His master had been tricked by a reseller back then, buying it at the price of top-grade Hainan Huanghuali.

On the surface, Zhang Guanghang continued working, but his gaze shifted to Xia Murui.

He noticed his master had been constantly staring at the monitor.

Although he could only see the back of his master’s head, not his expression, he could still feel the unusual focus in that posture.

The meat simmering on the stove was already at the right doneness, yet Xia Murui still hadn’t noticed, continuing to watch the monitor.

Fenyuan didn’t have a dedicated monitoring room. Only two places could view the surveillance feeds: the kitchen, and a room opposite Xia Murui’s bedroom.

The kitchen had three screens showing the dining area.

When Xia Murui was younger, he was a workaholic who could do the work of five people alone and run Fenyuan without hiring staff. Now that he was older and less energetic, managing the restaurant with Zhang Guanghang alone was somewhat exhausting—but he still disliked hiring waiters or assistants.

So, to better oversee the dining area, he installed surveillance cameras.

If guests needed anything—complaints about dishes or not knowing where to find the chef—they could just wave at the camera, and Xia Murui would come out when he saw it.

Normally, he wouldn’t stare at the monitor like this. At most, he would glance casually between cooking tasks. And usually, there was no need to watch at all:

If Zhang Guanghang was in the restaurant, he would handle it. If he wasn’t, Xia Murui might only serve six to eight tables a day—or even close the restaurant entirely. With so few guests, there was no need to monitor constantly.

But today, Xia Murui kept looking up at the monitor every so often—sometimes staring for four or five seconds at a time.

Zhang Guanghang said nothing, only continued working, and reminded him when necessary: “Master, the meat in the pot seems about ready.”

Xia Murui withdrew his gaze and returned to the stove.

When he turned, Zhang Guanghang could clearly see his expression—a look he had rarely seen on his master’s face.

A mixture of surprise, joy, nostalgia, melancholy, and emotions he couldn’t quite describe.

He hadn’t seen such expressions on Xia Murui’s face for many years.

Ever since Xia Murui tried to buy back Taifeng Tower from Li family descendants at triple market price—and was refused year after year—he had rarely felt joy.

At his age, there were few things left that could surprise him. He had seen, experienced, and heard almost everything in the world.

And feelings like nostalgia and melancholy were also rare in him. Zhang Guanghang had always thought it was because his master lived alone, without close friends or old companions—so there was nothing left to reminisce about.

But today, something was different.

Zhang Guanghang had always felt that his master was a very distinctive old man—aloof, short-tempered, but also unexpectedly warm.

His master was all-powerful: never hesitant, rarely doubtful, and someone who had never known regret.

And then Zhang Guanghang heard a trace of uncertainty and disbelief in his master’s voice:

“Xiao Hang, do you think people have a next life?”

Zhang Guanghang: ?

When did his master become a philosopher?

Just as Zhang Guanghang was wondering how to respond to such a question, Xia Murui’s next sentence dragged him straight back to reality.

“Are you still going to eat dinner today? I remember when you came back last month you said you ate too much greasy food and wanted to lose weight. Eating Wanfuru tonight probably isn’t good for you—just serve your portion to the guests.”

“Oh right, you said the guests wanted braised white carp. Since there are carp, deal with the fish later.”

Zhang Guanghang: ……

“Yes, Master.”

He obediently agreed and continued working, already thinking about what to eat after finishing work.

He had a bad feeling—once the two guests outside mentioned that the set menu seemed a bit light on vegetables, even his final dish of stir-fried lettuce in oyster sauce would probably end up on their table.

Meanwhile, Qin Huai and Zhao Cheng’an, sitting at the square table and whispering, had no idea that because of them, a handsome chef in the kitchen had just lost his dinner.

They were still whispering—only now the topic had shifted from “why Fenyuan is so big yet has no waiters” to whether Zhang Guanghang’s chef uniform was tailor-made, or whether it simply looked good on him because of his height and figure.

Since they were all chefs themselves and usually wore work uniforms, they were also thinking about how to improve their own image.

While chatting, the food arrived.

“Five-spice peanuts, scallion tofu, jade fan dish. Please enjoy.” Zhang Guanghang, who had just been rather gentle in expression, somehow turned into a cold, handsome man. He placed the dishes down expressionlessly, turned around, and left without looking back.

Qin Huai and Zhao Cheng’an were both stunned. Qin Huai even checked the time—it was only 5:37 p.m.

Zhao Cheng’an’s voice trembled, tears almost falling: “I was wrong… I really was wrong.”

“I only knew that being late might make Teacher Xia unhappy. I didn’t know arriving early would also make him unhappy. There are only four or five dishes in this set, and three are cold dishes already—one scallion tofu, one fried peanuts. Are we even going to get hot dishes today?”

Compared to Zhao Cheng’an’s despair, Qin Huai was much more optimistic—mainly because with three cold dishes already served, optimism was the only option left.

Qin Huai calmly picked up a peanut, chewed, and swallowed.

“The peanuts are pretty good. Perfect drinking snack—too bad we’re not drinking. Fried, with salt and sugar. Just from the heat control alone, this is at least B+ level. You can’t really find this elsewhere.”

“At a time like this, can you not be like this?” Zhao Cheng’an snapped.

Qin Huai glanced at him. “Do you have a better option?”

Defeated, Zhao Cheng’an turned his frustration into appetite, picked up a piece of scallion tofu—and immediately froze.

“Holy crap, this is amazing!”

His mental state was clearly unstable now, almost infected by someone named Zang Liang.

“Qin Huai, try this scallion tofu. It’s insane—I’ve never eaten scallion tofu this good in my life. Why isn’t this Fenyuan’s signature dish? It absolutely could be! Try it and tell me what rating your game system would give it.”

Qin Huai tried a bite and wasn’t entirely sure.

“B+ to A.”

Zhao Cheng’an then tried the jade fan dish, frowned, and said: “This used to be a signature dish too, right? Hasn’t Teacher Xia made it in years? Why does it feel worse than the scallion tofu?”

Qin Huai also tasted it carefully, separating the components.

“It does seem slightly weaker. Maybe it’s more about presentation than substance, so they cut corners on execution. Or maybe Teacher Xia is in a bad mood today and just cooked casually.”

“Sigh.” Zhao Cheng’an sighed deeply. “Let’s eat. We’re just unlucky enough to come when Teacher Xia is in a bad mood. We used to joke about ordering a set meal and getting scallion tofu—we actually got it today.”

The two continued eating bite by bite, quickly finishing the scallion tofu, then focusing on the fried peanuts, and occasionally picking at the jade fan dish.

In the kitchen, Xia Murui was watching the monitor with a furrowed brow.

“Do young people really eat this much nowadays? Or were they just starving when they came in? It’s not even 5:50 and they’ve almost finished three cold dishes already.”

Zhang Guanghang replied, “When I opened the door, I heard them say they wanted to go buy shaobing.”

“Shaobing?” Xia Murui frowned. “They like shaobing? Just like when you were a kid—always eating random things. The oven for baking is in storage, and we don’t have time to clear it today. No way to make shaobing now.”

Zhang Guanghang: ?

Master, since when did you become so accommodating that you’d cook whatever guests want?

Xia Murui glanced at the prepared ingredients and sighed.

“Forget it. They eat too much anyway—just stir-fry a couple more dishes. Eating only cold dishes isn’t good.”

“Xiao Hang, cut them a fruit platter first. Serve that while I cook.”

“Yes, Master.”

Three minutes later, Zhang Guanghang coldly placed a beautifully arranged fruit platter on the table and left without a word.

Qin Huai & Zhao Cheng’an: ……

Even Qin Huai, normally optimistic, couldn’t stay optimistic anymore.

“How many dishes are in this set again?” Qin Huai’s voice trembled.

“Four… four to five.”

“That’s already four dishes.” Qin Huai looked at the fruit platter. “Lesson learned—never come too early again.”

“Just eat,” Zhao Cheng’an said weakly.

So they began eating fruit—one piece of watermelon each, one piece of cantaloupe each—resigned to their fate.

In the kitchen, Xia Murui was heating the wok, preparing to stir-fry two hot dishes.

“…?” he frowned.

“Are they that hungry? Even the fruit platter is being eaten like that?”

“What is Ling Guangzhao doing? Hosting an exchange event and not even feeding people properly?”