Chapter 58 Qu Jing

After hanging up the phone, Qin Huai explained his speculation to Zheng Da and Zheng Siyuan. Both of them found it reasonable. Zheng Da, in particular, looked as if he had just awakened from a dream and wished he could slap himself twice.

Oh man—how did he not think of such a brilliant idea himself?

With tears in his eyes, Zheng Da looked at the jar of honey on the kitchen counter. If the main problem with the locust flower steamed buns really lay in the honey, and if he had discovered and solved it himself, wouldn’t he have successfully taken on an apprentice?

Now what? This is awkward.

Not only did he fail to show off in front of his future apprentice, but instead he was outshone by him.

So frustrating—he wanted to take Qin Huai as his apprentice even more.

Even more frustrating—now it was even harder to take Qin Huai as his apprentice.

Zheng Da’s emotions were complicated, while Zheng Siyuan’s thoughts were much simpler.

“If the problem is really with the honey, then it’s much easier,” Zheng Siyuan said, letting out a long breath. “Once we get proper honey, the problem will be solved.”

Then he could return to Suzhou to make pastries.

Although the Yunzhong Cafeteria was nice too—the regular customers were interesting, the elderly patrons would even bring him fruit, milk tea, and snacks. The kitchen was spacious and clean, Qin Huai was a good cook, steady in personality, and fun to talk to—an excellent friend. But Zheng Siyuan still preferred his pastry shop in Suzhou.

After half a month of no business, many regular customers had messaged him asking if he had quit.

Compared to his current busy life—making wontons in the morning, pastries at noon, and practicing steamed buns in the afternoon—Zheng Siyuan still preferred the leisurely days of making pastries in the morning and selling them in the afternoon.

…

That evening, Grandma Ding finally gave Qin Huai an answer.

Pure natural locust flower honey—available!

However, it had to be specially mailed, which would take time. It wouldn’t arrive tomorrow, but it should reach by the afternoon of the day after tomorrow. Grandma Ding firmly promised she would go to the central courier station early that morning and wait there; once the honey arrived, she would personally bring it to Qin Huai.

Qin Huai felt this was too much trouble and told her there was no need to make the trip—he could wait for the courier at the cafeteria.

Grandma Ding firmly refused. She insisted on picking it up herself, saying she couldn’t justify accepting such a large bag of warm fermented rice buns otherwise.

Her enthusiasm was hard to decline.

Qin Huai had no choice but to agree, especially since he had other matters to attend to that morning.

The next morning was the day he would visit Luo Jun’s home.

A very important visit.

It meant Qin Huai would finally be meeting the target of his side mission face-to-face.

To prepare for this, Qin Huai had made extensive preparations.

Five-flavor herbal tea, seven-ingredient dampness-removing tea, three kinds of tangerine peel tea, monk fruit tea, liver-clearing eye-brightening tea…

These were the herbal teas Qin Huai personally prepared the day before.

Over this period, the herbal teas at Yunzhong Cafeteria—aside from the tangerine peel tea—were mostly made by Qin Luo and Zhao Rong. Qin Huai himself rarely made herbal teas at home before, worried that he might mess up the recipes. So he practiced a day in advance. That practice alone doubled the sales of hand-squeezed lemon tea at the cafeteria.

Zheng Siyuan, who had never tried herbal tea before, turned green after downing a bowl of seven-ingredient dampness-removing tea.

Zheng Da, meanwhile, escaped disaster by going on strike.

His reason for striking was simple: he had spent the entire night thinking about whether the honey might be the key reason the locust flower buns failed, and the more he thought about it, the more convinced he became—it must be the honey. He became so frustrated he nearly emoed out.

Since the natural locust flower honey hadn’t arrived yet, and Zheng Da wasn’t particularly passionate about pastry-making anyway, he decided to take a day off and slack off.

He used the excuse that he had matters to handle at the factory.

“Siyuan, could you help me make some easily digestible pastries suitable for elderly people? I want to bring them when I visit tomorrow morning.” To make a good first impression on Luo Jun, Qin Huai even sought help.

Zheng Siyuan agreed without hesitation.

His pastry shop was located near a residential area, and most of his customers were elderly people and children. Making such pastries was already his specialty.

Since Qin Huai specifically requested it, Zheng Siyuan planned to make the pastries more aesthetically pleasing as well.

Over the past half month, Zheng Siyuan had realized that Qin Huai was entirely self-taught—no master, learning widely and from many sources. Basically, whatever appeared in TV dramas or whatever Qin Luo wanted to eat, he would learn to make.

Whether it was Southern, Northern, Suzhou, Beijing, Yunnan, or Cantonese styles—none of those categories applied to Qin Huai. If his style had a name, it would be “Luo style.”

Everything was for Qin Luo’s tastes.

He was practically cooking himself into bankruptcy for the child.

At the same time, Zheng Siyuan also noticed that Qin Huai never bothered with decorative presentation.

Normally, presentation is an essential part of pastries. While it may not affect taste, it enhances appearance and allows for higher pricing.

But Zheng Siyuan soon realized Qin Huai didn’t need presentation at all.

Because his customers were all quite wealthy.

The elderly patrons never asked about prices when trying new items—they would just scan and pay. Pricing at Yunzhong Cafeteria was also inconsistent: some items were cheap, others absurdly expensive, yet everyone seemed to accept it.

At Yunzhong Cafeteria, even something like seven-ingredient dampness-removing tea—if personally made by Qin Huai—people would grit their teeth and drink it.

Watching the customers in the hall grimacing, determined, and downing herbal tea as if facing death, while Qin Luo at the counter squeezed lemons with all her might, Zheng Siyuan truly couldn’t understand this world.

Indeed, the outside world was too complicated. He might as well return to his own pastry shop.

Anyway…

Zheng Siyuan took a bite of the fermented rice steamed bun Qin Huai had made.

Soft, slightly sweet, and elastic. There was no noticeable alcohol taste, but a faint aroma lingered. The fragrance of rice wine blended with the wheat aroma of the bun, spreading from the tongue to the nose in a wonderful experience.

This was a flavor he couldn’t replicate.

Even his father was probably only average.

After all, his father hadn’t seriously made pastries for many years. Without regular practice, his skills had either regressed or stagnated over decades.

Difficult.

Zheng Siyuan sighed inwardly.

With his father’s level of skill, he wasn’t qualified to take on an apprentice.

…

Meanwhile, Qin Huai was tasting the herbal teas he had brewed.

If graded, they would be: deadly, very deadly, unpleasant to die, extremely hard to drink, hard to drink, and drinkable.

The only drinkable one was the tangerine peel tea.

It seemed Luo Jun at least had basic taste, since the teas specified for the task were among the easiest to drink.

However, considering Luo’s temperament…

Qin Huai thought for a moment and decided to remove the seven-ingredient dampness-removing tea.

He planned to bring several kinds of herbal teas tomorrow—first, to make the tangerine peel tea less conspicuous among them, and second, because Luo Jun likely enjoyed herbal tea. Bringing several classic varieties would be a safe choice.

Qin Huai downed the hand-squeezed lemon tea in front of him and decided to bring that as well.

At 92 years old, it was time to try some modern-style beverages.

…

At 9:30 the next morning, Qin Huai arrived at the neighborhood committee gathering point carrying a large number of items.

The gifts he prepared were quite diverse.

Drinks were divided into cold and hot. Cold drinks included hand-squeezed lemon tea and mung bean soup; hot drinks were various herbal teas.

Two gift boxes of pastries were prepared. One contained Qin Huai’s cross-regional selection of pastries: honey-sweetened dough twists, fried glutinous rice rolls, pea flour cakes, sticky rice cakes, longevity cakes, date cakes, butterfly pastries, radish cakes, chrysanthemum cakes, and sponge cakes—an extensive variety.

The other box contained pastries made by Zheng Siyuan, mainly Suzhou-style pastries suitable for elderly people and easy to digest. To cater to Luo Jun’s unpredictable tastes, Zheng Siyuan also included savory pastries and mooncakes with fresh meat, aiming to ensure the elder would be satisfied.

In addition to pastries, Qin Huai prepared a box of pre-made dishes: five-ingredient buns, three-ingredient buns, red bean buns, and four-delight dumplings. Each type had 25 pieces, totaling 100. These could be frozen and steamed when needed.

Of course, fruit was essential as well.

To show sincerity, Qin Huai went to the most expensive international supermarket nearby and bought two of the priciest fruit baskets, and also brought imported high-end fruits obtained by Ou Yang from his parents. The guiding principle: only the expensive ones, not necessarily the best ones.

Qin Huai’s lavish gifts shocked everyone involved in the visit.

The photographer Lao Luo carefully counted all the items and stepped aside, whispering to Ou Yang, “Why didn’t Xiao Qin prepare seven-ingredient dampness-removing tea?”

“What? Out of so many herbal teas, there’s no seven-ingredient dampness-removing tea? Lao Luo, you must have miscounted,” Xiao Qian, who was responsible for writing the report, said in surprise.

“I didn’t miscount. I checked them all.”

Xiao Qian looked disappointed.

Ou Yang also felt a bit disappointed, but he knew he had to defend Qin Huai: “For an official occasion like this, Qin Huai wouldn’t include something like that in the gift.”

“Wasn’t it you who said that Old Luo, the stubborn one, gave Yunzhong Cafeteria a bad review, and that the promotion targeting names containing ‘Luo’ and ‘Jun’ was specifically aimed at him?” Lao Luo said. “That really made things hard for me—I drank seven-ingredient dampness-removing tea as my first try and had to down two cups of lemon tea to recover!”

Ou Yang instinctively tried to cover Lao Luo’s mouth, but it was too late.

Qin Huai smiled at Ou Yang: “So this is how you promote our cafeteria outside?”

Ou Yang forced a smile: “Uh… that… actually… it was a misunderstanding, do you believe me?”

Qin Huai smiled slightly. “Your Yushu-bark buns are gone.”

Ou Yang nearly shed tears.

Just as Ou Yang was about to argue for his beloved Yushu-bark buns, Chen Huihong led in a woman wearing a shirt and pants, fully covered from head to toe—hat, sunglasses, mask, sun-protective clothing, and gloves—all in place.

“Is everyone ready?” Chen Huihong asked. Seeing the large amount of items Qin Huai brought, she was somewhat surprised and said with a smile, “Xiao Qin, you don’t need to prepare so much. This is just a routine visit—fruit would be enough.”

“Old Luo is also a regular customer at our cafeteria. What I prepared are mainly pastries and herbal teas, just a token of my appreciation,” Qin Huai explained.

Chen Huihong nodded and then introduced the person beside her.

“Xiao Qin, this is Xiao Qu, Dr. Qu Jing. She has severe photosensitivity, so she usually dresses like this when going out.”

“Xiao Qu, this is Xiao Qin I mentioned, Qin Huai, the chef. I’ve already given your health check card to his father. His father has back issues, so if he goes to your hospital for treatment, please help recommend a good doctor.”

Qu Jing removed her sunglasses but kept her mask on. She nodded slightly at Qin Huai, then put her sunglasses back on and extended a gloved hand.

“Qu Jing.”

“Qin Huai.”

Then the two fell silent.

“Alright, everything’s ready. Let’s set off. Xiao Ou and Xiao Qian, help carry the items since Xiao Qin has a lot. Xiao Luo, you walk at the back and take photos, focusing on Xiao Qin with these pastries.”

“Dr. Qu is here today for a home checkup for Old Luo. Let’s move quickly so we don’t delay her time.”

Everyone sprang into action.

Qin Huai walked in the middle of the group and quietly asked Ou Yang, “I’m not very familiar with home checkups, but don’t they usually require fasting blood tests? Why not go earlier and instead wait until 10 a.m.?”

Ou Yang whispered back, “Because Old Luo likes staying up late on his phone. He can’t wake up too early—10 a.m. is considered early for him. Anything before that is ‘getting up early,’ and he gets grumpy and snaps at everyone during visits.”

Qin Huai: …

What an enviable retirement lifestyle.

Could he live like that after retirement too—stay up late every night and not wake up before 10 a.m.?

Luo Jun lived in Building A, Unit 1704. The units in Building A were all large apartments with four bedrooms and two living rooms, ranging from 220 to 280 square meters.

As Ou Yang said, Luo Jun had a habit of waking up late. At this time, he was already sitting on the sofa watching TV with a displeased expression.

The show he was watching was quite trendy—an Xianxia drama.

“Good morning, Old Luo,” Qu Jing greeted as she entered. Only then did she remove her hat, mask, sunglasses, and gloves, revealing her pale skin that had seen little sunlight. She quickly took out her medical kit and measured his blood pressure. “Have your eating habits been regular lately?”

“I eat. I eat every meal,” Luo Jun replied gruffly.

“How are your legs? Any knee pain? Can you go up and down stairs?” she continued.

“I haven’t tried. Don’t know,” Luo Jun said, pointing toward the dining area where the housekeeper was preparing tea for everyone. “Ask her.”

The housekeeper explained, “Meals are regular, but the timing isn’t. Breakfast at 10:30 a.m., lunch around 3–4 p.m., and dinner after 9 p.m.”

Qu Jing nodded calmly. “Breakfast is more regular than before. Previously it was at 11 a.m.”

“That’s because I now buy breakfast from Xiao Qin’s cafeteria,” the housekeeper added, pointing at Qin Huai. “Mr. Luo likes the five-ingredient buns, which sell out by around 9 a.m. I buy them and keep them warm in a steamer, then go back to queue for the first batch.”

“Buns must be eaten by 10:30 a.m. at the latest, otherwise he says they taste off. Because of this, Mr. Luo even sets an alarm to eat buns on time. At that time, I’m usually still out buying pastries and can’t remind him.”

“You talk too much,” Luo Jun grumbled. “I eat whenever I want. I prefer eating breakfast at 10:30.”

“10:30 is still a bit late. Since the buns are bought at around 9 a.m., I recommend finishing them before 10,” Qu Jing said with a smile. “Please clench your right fist so I can check your joint mobility.”

Luo Jun clenched his fist and glared at Qin Huai: “It’s all because of you. If your buns were sold until after 10 a.m., none of this would be such a hassle.”

Qin Huai: ?

Me?

Wait—Old Luo, how do you even know me? Don’t you never go out?

Luo Jun seemed to read Qin Huai’s thoughts and said irritably, “I’ve seen your photo in a group chat.”

“These young guys nowadays really don’t look spirited. Compared to me when I was young, you’re not even half as good-looking. Well… maybe just slightly better than the one next to you.”

Qin Huai: …

Ou Yang standing beside him: …

Ou Yang: I’m going to curse—%@*@[%]&#!…