Chapter 54 Do You Want to Consider Taking a Master?

Zheng Da said he would help—and he truly meant it.

All kinds of ingredients needed for making pastries were available in the kitchen. Fillings that could be prepared in advance, such as red bean paste, mung bean paste, and coconut filling, were all stored in the freezer.

After taking a walk around the kitchen to familiarize himself with the ingredients and utensils, Zheng Da rolled up his sleeves and got to work.

The first thing he made was crispy pastry.

In his words, his son Zheng Siyuan’s signature item was crispy pastry. Sometimes when his son had something to attend to and needed his father to fill in, Zheng Da would go over and casually make a batch.

Of course, if Zheng Da asked Zheng Siyuan for a favor—like encouraging him to skip work and go on a blind date—then he would take it seriously. How seriously he took it depended on how likely the blind date was to succeed.

Today, Zheng Da wasn’t very serious.

More accurately, he couldn’t be very serious. He had to watch Qin Huai make the locust flower buns while also making his own pastries—juggling two tasks at once. Not getting distracted already counted as a success.

Qin Luo stood nearby, holding a plate of Four-Happiness Dumplings, eating while watching.

It was quite a novel sight—two pastry chefs working in the same kitchen at the same time.

“Luo Luo, are you eating Four-Happiness Dumplings?” Zheng Da could both work and observe, while also paying attention to what Qin Luo was eating.

“Yes. My brother made them. Uncle Zheng, do you want some? I can share one with you,” Qin Luo replied.

Zheng Da shook his head in refusal. He had already tried them before, so there was no need to take food from a young girl.

“However, the ingredients in your Four-Happiness Dumplings look very nice. Is this also your family’s recipe?”

Zheng Da’s eyes were focused on Qin Huai’s hands kneading dough, while his own hands kept moving. He was chatting with Qin Luo at the same time—fully demonstrating multitasking at a high level.

“It’s my brother’s recipe,” Qin Luo said. “He said the online recipes don’t taste good, so he developed his own.”

Zheng Da’s hands paused slightly. “Xiao Qin, which school of pastry did you learn from?”

Now Qin Huai’s hands paused.

A soul-level question: “There are schools in pastry?”

Zheng Da: ?

Zheng Da was stunned.

“There are… major schools like Beijing-style, Suzhou-style, Cantonese-style. More specifically, there are Ningbo-style, Sichuan-style, Tianjin-style, Shanghai-style, Yangzhou-style…” Zheng Da listed a long series. Seeing Qin Huai still looking confused, he raised his voice, “You don’t even know that?!”

“I know there’s a Beijing-style mung bean cake. I saw it when searching for recipes online,” Qin Huai said.

This completely stunned Zheng Da. He was speechless for a long time before finally squeezing out a sentence:

“Your father is really not very meticulous.”

“He should have at least taught you some basics.”

Even if the family craft had declined and they were only running a community cafeteria in a high-end residential area, they shouldn’t leave the child knowing nothing beyond the craft itself. Otherwise, he would be like a raw beginner when interacting with other chefs and would surely be laughed at.

Zheng Da looked around the kitchen and then at the dining hall.

Something seemed off.

This didn’t look like a declining operation at all—the location, the space, the decor…

It could easily pass for a restaurant.

“Uncle Zheng, this has nothing to do with my dad,” Qin Luo defended Qin Congwen. “My dad runs a breakfast shop. He only knows how to make buns, shaomai, and wontons. He can’t even make steamed buns properly, so he couldn’t teach my brother.”

Zheng Da let out a long breath. So the family craft hadn’t declined—it had simply been lost, forcing them to learn from outside.

“Then who is your master?” he asked.

Qin Huai fell silent for a moment and slowly replied with four words:

“Pastry Compendium?”

Zheng Da: ?

The commentator Qin Luo chimed in again: “My brother hasn’t formally taken a master. When he was in high school, I suggested he go to Hangzhou somewhere to apprentice, but my dad thought the college entrance exam was more important and didn’t let him go.”

“Our family has a book called Pastry Compendium. My brother mostly follows the recipes in that book. If it’s not in there, he searches online.”

Zheng Da: …

Zheng Da took a deep breath, trying to calm himself.

Ha—this kneading technique, this fermentation control, this level of completion, this method, this force, this skill… and it’s all from a completely self-taught wild path!

No, not even a “wild path.” Normally, a wild path still implies learning bits and pieces from various sources. This was not even that—it was entirely self-driven…

“Pastry Compendium?!”

Since when did the culinary world have martial arts manuals?!

What kind of respectable chef learns from flipping through recipe books instead of being taught hands-on by a master?!

Where are the fundamentals?! Are fundamentals also learned from books?!

Zheng Da forced a smile. “Luo Luo, could you tell me properly how your brother learned pastry over the years?”

Qin Luo, thinking of the dozens of boxes of snacks yet to arrive, nodded and began from before she was even born—when Qin Huai was still in an orphanage kneading dough…

An hour later, Zheng Da was numb.

Although his hands never stopped—moving from crispy pastry to other items like Ding Sheng cakes and then fresh meat mooncakes—his mind had completely stalled.

He suddenly wanted to ask Qin Huai: if your skills can be acquired by kneading dough in an orphanage and learning on your own, and then getting started by buying a “Pastry Compendium” from a flea market in elementary school… then what were all his years of training, knife skills, oil burns, sweat, hardship, and discipline?

What did they amount to?

He suddenly remembered what his master used to say: true geniuses only need a master to open the door; the rest depends entirely on hard practice and talent. Zheng Da and his fellow apprentices had effort, but slightly lacking in talent—they were considered capable, but still far from true geniuses.

He had always thought that was his master’s pressure-style teaching. Over the years, he had rarely encountered pastry chefs better than himself in talent. His son Zheng Siyuan was one. A few promising ones at Zhiwei House were others. The rest were mediocre.

That was why he never ran a large apprenticeship system like his senior brother. Zheng Da was very selective. Those who wanted to learn from him, he didn’t approve; those he approved didn’t choose him. So over the years, he only passed his skills on to his son.

Looking at Qin Huai now, Zheng Da felt he could be the one to “open the door” as a master.

What, you say Qin Huai is already inside the door?

No problem—he can go through it again.

Rubbing his hands together, Zheng Da’s attention drifted away from the locust flower buns and toward Qin Huai.

“Xiao Qin,” Zheng Da said in a tone so friendly that even he felt a bit fake.

“How do you think I am?”

Qin Huai: ?

Zheng Da cleared his throat. “Your Uncle Zheng has some assets. I don’t charge apprenticeship fees, and you don’t need to send gifts during holidays. On the contrary, as a master, I will give generous red envelopes every New Year—at least three times what I give my nephews.”

“In terms of reputation, before I went into business, I was quite a well-known pastry chef in Suzhou. I’ve been featured in ‘Zhiwei’ magazine and made a name for myself.”

“Most importantly, I’ve never taken a disciple. My son doesn’t count. Unlike my senior brother, who has taken many apprentices—enough to form a football team—I’m very focused. If I take you as a disciple, I will train you carefully, teach everything I know, and fully support your growth.”

“Have you considered taking me as your master? I think it’s better to act than to delay—why not today? I’ll have my assistant prepare things, and I’ll give you a big red envelope.”

Now it was Qin Huai who was stunned.

Qin Luo beside him was also stunned.

Since the promised dozens of boxes of snacks hadn’t arrived yet, Qin Luo had reason to suspect that Zheng Da might be an unconventional scammer.

If not for the fact that Zheng Da’s assets could be verified online and the company’s official website listed him as chairman with matching photos, Qin Huai would have doubted it too.

The kitchen fell into dead silence.

To avoid awkwardness, Qin Huai coughed twice, glanced at the fermenting dough, and said hesitantly:

“About apprenticeship… Master Zheng, I haven’t really considered it.”

“Right now, about the locust flower buns—do you have any ideas?”

The transition was abrupt, but Zheng Da found it acceptable.

Indeed, in this day and age, taking on a disciple isn’t just about words. Talk alone doesn’t count—real ability does.

It was time to prove his skill with the locust flower buns.

Zheng Da focused all his attention on studying the buns, temporarily setting aside the crispy pastries, Ding Sheng cakes, and fresh meat mooncakes.

The customers outside: ???

What’s going on? Why haven’t the pastries come out this morning? Is the new pastry chef not up to the task?

An hour later, the locust flower buns were ready.

Zheng Da chewed on one with a serious expression.

His thoughts now matched Qin Huai’s—he couldn’t find any obvious technical flaw, yet the result clearly didn’t match Qin Huai’s level.

In short: no problem could be identified.

After thinking for ten minutes, Zheng Da picked up his phone.

“Hello, Siyuan. Have you finished making pastries? You have? Haven’t sold out yet? That’s fine—have your sister help you sell them. Now book a flight and come to the location I’ll send you.”

“No, I’m not tricking you into going on a blind date.”

“It’s about pastries—related to your junior brother.”

“No, not your Uncle Huang… it’s me! I’m the one who wants to take a disciple!”

“Oh, I can’t explain it in a few sentences. It’s really important. It’s not a blind date—really, it’s about pastries. Trust me!”

“Come quickly!”