Chapter 18 Far Ahead

“One basket of Five-Diced Buns!”

“Two baskets of Three-Diced Buns!”

“Two Five-Diced, one Three-Diced!”

“Chef Qin, how much longer for the Five-Diced Buns?”

“Can we still add more Five-Diced?”

“Add six more baskets of Three-Diced!”

According to Qin Huai’s original plan, the first morning of opening should have been—

Wake up at 4 a.m. to prepare, start happily slacking off at 6, resume making dim sum at 8, and clock out at 12 to enjoy the rest of the day.

Unfortunately, reality had other plans.

Qin Huai knew the nearby residents were wealthy.

The housing prices alone made that obvious—people without money couldn’t afford to live here.

He also knew the office workers nearby earned decent salaries. After all, the rent for nearby office buildings wasn’t cheap either—companies without strength couldn’t even get in.

But he hadn’t expected people to have this much spending power.

At first, the Three-Diced and Five-Diced Buns didn’t sell well.

After all, buns all looked the same. These two didn’t look any fancier, and when placed next to the 1.5-yuan meat buns, they seemed like overpriced “IQ tax” products for the rich—on par with luxury brands selling hair ties for thousands.

But demand builds when people start buying—and especially during the morning rush.

Even if only 1% of buyers chose them, selling 1,000 regular meat buns would still mean 10 Three-Diced or Five-Diced Buns sold.

And most people, upon getting a bun that wasn’t burning hot, would instinctively take a bite first.

Yunzhong Canteen was large—over 700 square meters across two floors. No one walked fast enough to leave the building before taking that first bite.

Everyone knows buns have a fragrance.

Usually, it’s the wheat aroma from the dough—the smell of carbs, of mornings, of breakfast.

But clearly, the meat aroma of the Three-Diced and Five-Diced Buns far surpassed the wheat smell.

One bite into a warm Five-Diced Bun released a scent that wasn’t overwhelming or far-reaching—but it was enough.

Especially enough to tempt office workers who had woken up early, squeezed onto the subway, and arrived starving at work—desperate for a bite of breakfast to survive.

Not to mention, these buns came with their own “live food reviewers.”

One bite—confusion, shock, delight, hunger, devouring, lingering satisfaction, hesitation, decision—and finally, ordering another.

Each person acted it out differently.

But every single one sent the same message to those around them:

This bun is delicious.

Yes, it’s expensive—but it’s worth it.

You might not afford a 4,000-yuan hair tie, but can’t you afford a 24.5-yuan bun after discount?
Work is already hard enough—what’s wrong with treating yourself to a better breakfast?
And a bun that looks this good—doesn’t it deserve a try, maybe even a social media post to impress everyone?

With that mindset, many customers shifted from:

“Wow, 1.5 yuan buns with a discount—what a steal!”

to:

“24.5 yuan for a bun? I have to try this flavor.”

And just like that, sales of Three-Diced and Five-Diced Buns skyrocketed.

The more people bought them, the better they sold. Most customers follow the crowd—if everyone else is buying something, it must be good.

Thus, during the morning rush, Yunzhong Canteen presented an absurd scene:

People ignored the 1.5-yuan meat buns—and rushed for the 35-yuan Five-Diced Buns.

As a result, Qin Huai not only failed to “work two hours, slack one hour,” but ended up steaming buns so fast he practically left afterimages.

Qin Congwen was just as puzzled.

After selling buns his whole life—never priced above 2 yuan—he couldn’t understand why anyone would ignore a 1.5-yuan meat bun.

So deli—… so affordable!

After finally taking a break, he bit into one of his own buns and recalled the taste of the Five-Diced Bun.

…Alright.

When it comes to food, if people can afford it, they’ll always choose taste over value.

Damn it—when it comes to talent, the gap between people is bigger than the gap between a person and a rolling pin.

How was his son’s cooking this good?!

“Huaizi,” Qin Congwen called out, looking at Qin Huai—who looked like he needed eight arms. “Can I have another Five-Diced Bun?”

“If not, Three-Diced is fine too.”

“Brother, brother! I want one too!” Qin Luo raised her hand enthusiastically from beside the shelf. “I can still eat!”

Qin Huai: …

He forced a smile. The life he imagined—leisurely making pastries as a boss—felt very far away now.

“Wait until I finish this batch.”

He glanced at the service staff outside.

Despite the crowd, most customers were buying takeaway, so three staff members were more than enough—even with time to slack occasionally.

So why… was the busiest person in the entire canteen the boss?!

“Octopus Qin Huai” kept working until 9 a.m.

In fact, the Three-Diced and Five-Diced Buns had already sold out by 8:10.

But customers were too enthusiastic.

These days, everyone loved posting on social media:

Car accident? Post it.
Office drama? Post it.
New restaurant nearby? Post it.
A delicious but expensive bun? Definitely post it.

Soon, these buns flooded the feeds of nearby office workers.

For those who loved following trends:

“I already suffer enough drinking iced Americano every morning. If my colleagues all try this amazing bun and post about it, and I don’t—how will I show my face in chat groups?”

This is a must-check-in!

Even if they had to wait for freshly made buns, they would wait.

Although most customers switched to regular buns after hearing the premium ones were sold out, a small group insisted on waiting—hungry but determined.

Their passion for buns was… touching.

Seeing this as a great opportunity to build customer loyalty, Huang Xi immediately created a delivery group chat. Customers could pre-order, and meals would be delivered within a 1 km radius—for breakfast, lunch, and dinner.

By 9 a.m., the group already had 117 members.

Some hadn’t even ordered anything—they just joined for fun.

Qin Huai could only “earn money with tears in his eyes,” starting over from kneading dough.

Watching all this, Qin Luo—who had been slacking for three hours and even switched to playing games on Qin Huai’s account after hers hit anti-addiction limits—came to a realization:

Running a dim sum shop is exhausting.

Maybe it’s better to go back and inherit the family breakfast shop—it’s easier.

Qin Huai kept working tirelessly until noon.

Not because work was done—but because the boss went on strike.

Originally, he planned to make crab-shell pastries, walnut cookies, donkey rolls, pea cakes, and snowflake crisps.

But after making buns nonstop until 10 a.m., he made a decision:

No need to do so much on opening day.

Crab-shell pastries were too troublesome. Walnut cookies required too much effort. Pea cakes needed hours of refrigeration.

Better to make simple items like snowflake crisps and donkey rolls—easy, quick, and shelf-stable.

After all, there was only one boss. If he collapsed, there was no backup.

Might as well do less—customers don’t know the full menu anyway.

“So that’s why there’s no crab-shell pastry today?” Ou Yang asked, sitting on the second floor for lunch, on the verge of tears.

He had been looking forward to it for so long.

Not because he couldn’t buy it elsewhere—but because he wanted to eat Qin Huai’s version.

(Also… he was a bit short on money and hoped to get it for free.)

“Well, plans changed,” Qin Huai said helplessly, then shifted topics. “Are you at the community office this afternoon? I’ve been working on a new salad—want you and Sister Hong to try it.”

The elm bark he ordered had finally arrived. The bark salad experiment could begin.

“I’m there!” Ou Yang perked up instantly. “What kind of salad? Avocado? Beef? Salmon? Caesar?”

“…Just salad.”

Ou Yang: ?

This sounded suspicious—but whatever, food was food.

“So the canteen sells breakfast in the morning, pastries mid-morning, and regular meals the rest of the day? Afternoon is for rest?” Ou Yang asked.

Qin Huai replied seriously, “We sell pastries both morning and afternoon. We’re a high-quality all-day canteen.”

“But didn’t you just say everything sold out because you cut corners and made less?” Ou Yang said expressionlessly.

Qin Huai looked away. “That’s because… I didn’t expect this.”

He glanced at a nearby table:

Green water spinach, golden fried fish, red-and-yellow tomato eggs, white rice, beige-and-red donkey rolls, and a half-eaten jar of snowflake crisps.

Colorful. Strange combination.

Is this even a normal lunch?

Qin Huai had no idea that “Popularity +200” would be this powerful. By lunchtime, office workers flooded in with badges, eager for discounted meals. By 12:20, there was already a line—some people even stood while eating to save time.

Donkey rolls and snowflake crisps weren’t expensive to begin with. After being cut into small portions and discounted, they were incredibly affordable.

Many customers didn’t even realize these were meant as mid-morning or afternoon snacks—they just thought the canteen was generous enough to include desserts with lunch.

30% off? Cheap. Buy it. Try it!

“Who would’ve thought this location would be so good? Business is booming. First day, and I really didn’t expect this,” Qin Huai sighed sincerely. “If I’d known, I would’ve hired another pastry chef.”

Ou Yang felt like he’d just been stabbed in the chest.

At that moment, he wanted to grab Qin Huai and shout:

Do you know how hard it is to run a business?!

Do you know—

…Forget it.

You wouldn’t understand.

After lunch, Qin Huai went home to pick up his delivery and take a nap. Qin Congwen, Zhao Rong, and Qin Luo had already gone back to sleep—they hadn’t slept all night due to opening-day nerves, and once the success of the buns was confirmed, exhaustion hit them hard.

Finally, Qin Huai opened the task panel to check the new mission:

Main Quest:

1. [Far Ahead 1]:
As a qualified protagonist, taking an early lead upon opening is a basic requirement. Defeat 25% of nearby restaurants in reputation and become a rising star.

Reward: Popularity +500, [Neighborhood Recognition], [A Dream of Chen Huihong] (Yes/No)

Qin Huai: ?

There’s a “Far Ahead 1”?

Does that mean there’s 2, 3, 4 later?!

You just gave me the beginner mission and now a whole series?!

Game system—do you even know how many restaurants are in this area?

Do you understand the value of a CBD district?!