Chapter 5 Four-Delicacy Dumplings

Four-delicacy dumplings are a famous imperial dish from the Manchu-Han Full Banquet. Among the 108 varieties of dumplings in a dumpling banquet, they rank among the very best.

They are Qin Luo’s most unforgettable and deeply memorable delicacy.

After all, getting beaten three times for one meal of dumplings is quite something in the Qin family.

Those who have watched The Little Master of China will surely remember the golden-ratio siu mai made in Episode 23 when Chef Xie challenged others to a duel.

Back when Qin Luo was in kindergarten, a TV station aired The Little Master of China every evening at 6 p.m. She would sit in front of the TV with a bowl in hand every single day, rain or shine.

And that’s when she fell in love with the golden-ratio siu mai.

In Qin Luo’s worldview at the time—when she couldn’t even read yet—Chef Xie made siu mai, and her dad also made siu mai.

So her dad = Chef Xie.

Therefore, her dad could also make golden-ratio siu mai.

So Qin Luo pointed at the TV and loudly demanded to eat golden-ratio siu mai. Not only did she demand it, she also bragged at kindergarten that her dad could make it. This led her classmates to go home and question their own fathers about why they couldn’t make golden-ratio siu mai, which eventually resulted in the kindergarten teacher personally visiting the Qin household to ask what was going on.

First her brother had a system, then her father was being compared to Chef Xie—could the Qin family still be normal?

As a result, Qin Luo received her first beating.

Originally, that should have been the end of it. But Qin Huai felt uneasy about it. In his view, such a small matter didn’t warrant a beating. The main reason Qin Luo was punished was because she already had a “record.”

Out of a sense of making it up to his sister, Qin Huai went home and dug out a “Desserts Compendium” he had bought from a classmate at a flea market for one yuan back in elementary school.

He found the four-delicacy dumplings.

A “spin-off” of the golden-ratio siu mai.

Following the recipe in the compendium, Qin Huai tried making them.

They were terrible.

The ingredient combination was something the human palate simply couldn’t accept.

It even made Qin Luo cry.

Not because they tasted bad—but because her fantasy was shattered. She realized that her idol, Chef Xie, didn’t actually make delicious food. She cried out of heartbreak.

In her sadness, Qin Luo found her cousin He Cheng, who was also a fan of Chef Xie, and shared her emotional collapse. The two of them grieved together, hiding in a corner of the park, quietly emo-ing. Their families thought they had been abducted and nearly called the police. When they were finally found, they were beaten again.

Seeing that Qin Luo had been beaten twice just for trying to eat dumplings, Qin Huai reflected deeply and decided to improve the recipe himself. After dozens of failures, he finally created a version of four-delicacy dumplings that was both delicious and visually appealing—though completely different from the original golden-ratio siu mai.

Although the finished product didn’t match the “original,” Qin Luo didn’t care.

Because even if her father wasn’t Chef Xie, her brother was!

Her brother might not have a system, but he was Chef Xie!

Feeling confident again, Qin Luo went back to kindergarten and bragged once more—only to be reported to her parents again.

Originally, Qin Congwen and Zhao Rong didn’t want to beat their daughter again for such a trivial matter. But since they were already there—and she had already been beaten twice—they figured one more wouldn’t hurt.

Thus, Qin Luo received her third beating.

From then on, four-delicacy dumplings became a staple dish in the Qin family.

They were eaten during every festival and every family gathering. Whenever the family sat together happily eating dumplings, the elders would tease Qin Luo, asking whether her brother was really Chef Xie.

To this, Qin Luo would respond: “Tasty. I love it.”

Although the third beating was a bit unfair, without the first two, how could her brother have achieved such painstaking, dedicated results?

She was doing this for the benefit of the family!

To motivate Qin Huai to make delicious four-delicacy dumplings, getting beaten three times was nothing. It’s just a beating—she was tough, resilient, and could take it. Next time, she’d still dare!

Because of this, whenever Qin Huai made four-delicacy dumplings, Qin Luo was always the most enthusiastic helper.

In the kitchen, Qin Huai and Qin Congwen were chopping meat filling. One had a loud rhythm, the other a fast tempo. The dull thudding of cleavers hitting the cutting boards echoed continuously, like musical notes dancing on piano keys.

Qin Luo was carefully washing vegetables, while Zhao Rong was making egg wrappers. Each member of the family had their own role, working in an orderly and coordinated manner.

After preparing the minced meat, Qin Huai began kneading the dough.

When kneading dough, one should achieve the “three shines”: a shiny dough, a shiny bowl, and shiny hands. Qin Huai had already mastered this technique instinctively during his time in the orphanage.

Qin Congwen often remarked that just from Qin Huai’s kneading movements, one could tell he was naturally suited for this craft. Most people merely knead dough, but Qin Huai kneaded it cleanly and beautifully. The final product looked like a work of art—like a disciple painstakingly trained by a master over many years, not someone self-taught.

In earlier years, Qin Congwen would help knead dough, giving customers at the bun shop the surprise of a “blind box” experience. But after Qin Huai graduated from university and returned to run the breakfast shop full-time, this most important task was gradually handed over entirely to him.

Qin Congwen had a back injury, and as he aged, his back worsened. He still helped out when needed.

“Dad, chop the mushrooms, and the carrots too. Dice them finely,” Qin Huai said, pointing at the soaked mushrooms in the bowl.

As for Qin Luo’s knife skills—cutting spinach stems was already her limit. As for dicing carrots… she still needed her left hand to hold the bowl while eating.

According to the dessert compendium, the four pockets of the dumplings should each contain four distinct fillings with clearly different colors.

This would not necessarily taste better, but it would certainly look better—perfect for taking photos and posting to social media to get lots of likes.

In reality, however, this approach didn’t taste very good.

After Qin Huai’s first attempt made Qin Luo cry, he decisively abandoned the visually elaborate method and instead mixed all the fillings together into a more universally appealing combination of pork, mushrooms, and diced carrots.

As for visual presentation, Qin Huai added a layer of decorative ingredients on top of the filling to simulate the appearance.

It turned out to be a good solution. The traditional dumpling filling, combined with decorative elements like mushroom cubes, ham cubes, spinach stems, and egg strips, created a visually appealing dish with vibrant colors. Paired with juicy filling and chewy dumpling skin—and Qin Luo’s rather enthusiastic way of eating—she didn’t even realize at first that the four pockets of the dumplings actually contained the same filling.

She once believed Qin Huai had painstakingly recreated the anime’s golden-ratio siu mai with four different fillings, and was so moved that she handed over all her saved pocket money as “hard work compensation.”

It was worth it that Qin Huai carefully selected four decorative ingredients that, when combined with the filling, produced different textures and flavors.

Fresh four-delicacy dumplings, once wrapped, could be stored frozen for up to seven days without losing quality. To save time, Qin Huai usually prepared enough for five to seven days at once. This time was no exception, and the extra batches could be taken by Chen Huihong as breakfast.

Homemade snacks are perfect as gifts for social occasions—not too expensive, but full of sincerity.

After working through most of the afternoon, once all the wrappers and fillings were prepared, the Qin family gathered around the dining table to wrap buns, dumplings, and wontons.

Zhao Rong wrapped wontons at an astonishing speed, almost without looking—like an assembly line worker with twenty years of experience, producing one every second.

“Huaihuai,” Zhao Rong began.

“Your dad and I discussed this at noon. Your house is already ready to move into, and you’ve decided to stay here long-term. Keeping the shop closed at home is a waste. Zhu Wang even messaged me this morning asking if I secretly started buying meat from other vendors. Luo Luo also misses her classmates and wants to go back. How about we return tomorrow? If you need anything, you can call us over.”

Hearing this, Qin Luo, who had been happily wrapping wontons, widened her eyes in disbelief, her expression clearly saying: Mom, when did I ever say I wanted to go back and play with classmates? I love it here!

“Yes, yes,” Qin Congwen added. “Your mom and I can’t stay idle. Not working for a few days makes us feel uneasy.”

“And your place only has two rooms. It wouldn’t be convenient for all of us to stay here.”

Qin Luo was about to speak up in anxiety, but Qin Huai gave her a look, signaling her to hold back.

He understood—Zhao Rong and Qin Congwen didn’t want to be a burden.

It’s often said that love comes with a sense of indebtedness. These two parents were likely among those who felt it most deeply.

Qin Huai had been adopted at a relatively old age, so he was aware of it, as were the neighbors.

Balancing fairness between children is never easy. Even biological children can receive uneven affection, let alone an adopted one.

Qin Congwen and Zhao Rong had always been extremely careful. If one child got new clothes, the other had to get them too. Allowances were equal, red envelopes were equal, and even tutoring classes and materials had to be identical. Qin Huai helped at the shop, and so did Qin Luo. When Qin Huai attended four tutoring classes a week in high school, Qin Luo—still in elementary school—also attended four. When classes weren’t enough, they added interest-based ones: math olympiad, reading, English, and Go. It was so exhausting that Qin Luo almost wanted to cry and beg her parents to be biased toward her brother instead.

Qin Huai’s academic performance was average, but his talent in pastry-making was obvious to anyone with taste buds. From a young age, he was considered the official successor of the Qin family breakfast shop.

Many people had once advised Qin Congwen and his wife to send their son elsewhere to learn a trade instead of focusing on academics.

But Qin Congwen feared Qin Huai might feel slighted—thinking he favored his biological daughter and made the adopted son suffer while the daughter enjoyed comfort. Coupled with his long-held belief that education is paramount, he enrolled Qin Huai in numerous tutoring classes and pushed him into a top university.

Now that Qin Huai had returned after inheriting an estate, Qin Congwen and Zhao Rong likely felt that same sense of indebtedness again.

They probably thought that since Qin Huai’s biological parents were wealthy and left him an eight-figure inheritance, he had suffered while living with them. They might even worry that staying here with Qin Luo would make them seem like greedy adoptive parents trying to take advantage of the adopted son’s property.

With limited rooms, it was indeed inconvenient for everyone to stay.

After thinking it through, deciding to take Qin Luo back home and continue earning a living wasn’t unreasonable.

Qin Huai knew exactly how to counter this.

“Dad, Mom,” Qin Huai put down his rolling pin, looking slightly hurt. “I’ve just taken over the community canteen and don’t have much experience. We’re also short on staff. Are you really not going to stay and help me?”

Zhao Rong and Qin Congwen: …

Qin Luo immediately caught on and said loudly, “Exactly! Mom, Dad, you’re being too much! My brother was already worried this morning about whether the canteen would run smoothly. And now you want to just leave and hand this big mess over to him? I strongly object! I’m definitely staying to help clean the canteen!”

In fabricating, twisting, and shifting blame, Qin Luo was a professional.

Caught off guard by the siblings’ coordinated move, Qin Congwen and Zhao Rong didn’t know how to respond and even felt a hint of guilt.

“Then… should we stay a bit longer?”

Qin Luo slammed the table, stood up straight, and declared firmly, almost raising her fist in oath: “Two months! I’ll help my brother clean the canteen until the last day of vacation!”

Qin Huai: …

Very good. Hopefully after you finish wrapping the wontons, you’ll clean the table.

If you’re going to make a declaration, why slam the table? You’ve knocked flour all over the place from the bowl—did you even notice?