Chapter 84 Traditional Crab-Shell Pastries

Dong Li’s words gave Qin Huai a huge inspiration.

That’s right—how had he not thought of this before?

During this period, he had been completely focused on broth-making. If the soup turned out well, he’d sell it cheaply in the evening; if it failed, he’d give it away for free. By around 4 or 5 PM, the entire canteen would be filled with the aroma of meat soup, and even the number of dinner customers had increased—

All of them coming to wait for free soup.

And if they couldn’t get it for free, cheap soup was still acceptable.

In the past, Qin Huai had never been constrained by rigid rules when cooking.

Things like “steamed buns must be made this way,” “dumplings must be wrapped like this,” “donkey rolls have a fixed method,” “Four Happiness dumplings can’t change ingredients”…

None of that ever applied to him.

Because he didn’t know any of it.

If he could follow the recipe book and succeed, great. If not, then clearly it was the recipe book’s problem.

But ever since he started formal training in heat control and broth-making, he had unknowingly become restricted.

Every day he memorized case studies, studied ingredients, and practiced techniques. His mind was filled with broth-making—so much so that he forgot heat control could also be practiced in pastry-making, not just in savory cooking.

“You really do have much better talent in pastry than in savory cooking,” Dong Li continued. “You might not realize it yourself, but when you make beef broth, you’re always very tense and uneasy.”

“But when you make crab-shell pastries, you’re very relaxed. Sometimes you even zone out.”

“When my brother and I first apprenticed under Master, he reminded us of something. Being overly tense and overly concerned often prevents good results. Staying relaxed and maintaining a loose mindset can often bring unexpected gains.”

“You still need to practice broth-making. But if you feel it’s too exhausting, you can switch to pastry-making to practice heat control and change your mood.”

Just as Dong Li finished speaking, Dong Shi’s voice shouted from the other end:

“Hey! Didn’t we agree that I’d be the one to say that part? I’m the final disciple—I should be the one teaching the new junior!”

“You know you’re the final disciple. Where would you even get a junior from?” Dong Li said expressionlessly, glancing sideways before turning back to the screen. “That’s it for today. Hanging up.”

Qin Huai stood there holding a tray of crab-shell pastries, deep in thought.

Should he bake this batch… or not?

The shop didn’t seem to have an old-style stove for making traditional crab-shell pastries.

But finding a substitute for a stove shouldn’t be too hard.

After thinking for a moment, Qin Huai decided to use modern equipment for this batch to save time. Later, he’d ask Huang Xi to find a suitable traditional stove so he could practice heat control using the old method.

That afternoon, customers ate “high-tech” crab-shell pastries.

Zhang Shumei, under the envious gazes of a group of old men, took away two jin all by herself. Everyone knew that pastries obtained through such “special channels” were Qin Huai’s private batches.

Normally, no one would be jealous—because they knew that these random pastries existed only because Qin Huai made special batches. Without them, they wouldn’t get to eat crab-shell pastries at all.

What they were really jealous of… was Luo Jun.

They had all seen Luo Jun’s attitude the last time he came to drink herbal tea—not exactly kind, but certainly transformed.

And that morning, many people had also noticed Qin Huai driving Luo Jun’s car. Even though it had been parked in the underground garage for one or two years without being used, the double-R logo was unmistakable.

Everyone secretly cursed that Old Man Luo was really something else—two-faced, never even leaving home yet somehow winning over Qin Huai. Even more annoying than that guy surnamed Ding.

Meanwhile, the “annoying” Old Man Luo was comfortably sprawled on a beanbag, gnawing on crab-shell pastries like he was taking revenge, while watching a movie.

On the small table in front of him was a bowl of lotus seed and white fungus soup freshly made by Zhang Shumei. Life was good.

After taking a sip, Luo Jun felt that the pain from the afternoon’s rehab session had been slightly soothed.

He dug his phone out from the sofa cushions and started messaging Qin Huai:

Luo Jun: Tomorrow I want tangerine peel tea!

Luo Jun: I’ll have Xiao Zhang prepare the ingredients and bring them over. Also, your savory crab-shell pastries aren’t good—I want shrimp filling. And I want the flatbread you made at my house last time, no filling.

Luo Jun thought: after sacrificing so much, what’s wrong with ordering a few dishes?

Qin Huai: Got it. I happen to be making traditional crab-shell pastries tomorrow ^_^

Back home, Qin Huai put down his phone and began wondering whether he could also make traditional-style flatbread to practice heat control.

Traditional flatbread… sounded promising.

Alright, Luo Jun—your picky taste will be perfect for testing tomorrow.

Huang Xi’s efficiency was impressive.

The very next morning, she brought back a perfect old-fashioned stove from a second-hand market. Apparently, it had originally been used specifically for baking crab-shell pastries, and its previous owner also used it for baking flatbreads.

The stove was sturdy—old, but still in excellent condition. Huang Xi bought it at a high price and had Zhao Rong reimburse her.

Qin Huai was extremely satisfied.

One stove, two traditional techniques—perfect!

He put it to use that very afternoon.

First, he started a pot of pork rib soup. While the soup simmered, Zhang Shumei delivered the ingredients for tangerine peel tea, so Qin Huai set up a small pot to cook that as well.

He hadn’t expected Luo Jun to specifically ask for tangerine peel tea—after all, it required almost no skill to make.

In fact, Luo Jun had basically been drinking a substitute every day—Zhang Shumei had been making lotus seed and white fungus soup regularly, just without the tangerine peel.

But Luo Jun never said anything, leaving Qin Huai unsure whether he actually preferred tangerine peel tea or the soup.

After handling the soup and tea, Qin Huai began making crab-shell pastries and hollow flatbreads.

On the other end of the video call, Huang Shengli was munching on mung bean cake—clearly made by Zheng Siyuan.

“Looks like I was right—you’re much more relaxed when making pastries,” Huang Shengli said cheerfully, waving someone over. “Siyuan, come take a look at what Qin Huai’s cooking up.”

To Qin Huai’s surprise, Zheng Siyuan was also there.

“Sold out your pastries already?” Qin Huai asked while continuing his work.

“My dad is hosting dinner for Master Huang tonight. After selling the morning batch, I didn’t make more and came early,” Zheng Siyuan replied.

Qin Huai took a moment to process that. “Your dad is hosting Master Huang… at Master Huang’s own restaurant?”

“Yep. I’ll be cooking the dishes myself later,” Huang Shengli said. “Anyway, look at that stove. When Siyuan’s father and I were kids, we loved this kind of stove. Back then, our master used it to bake crab-shell pastries, flatbreads, sesame cakes—even roasted sweet potatoes.”

Zheng Siyuan asked curiously, “Does this kind of stove make better pastries?”

Huang Shengli burst out laughing. “No wonder your dad says you’re obsessed with pastries—you only think about food. Ovens are obviously better—more even heat, easier control. We used stoves back then because we didn’t have ovens.”

“As for advantages… maybe the aroma. When you sit next to it waiting, the smell slowly spreads—it makes you hungrier and hungrier. After practicing knife skills, eating one felt like you could go cut another 200 jin of radishes.”

Zheng Siyuan frowned. “If ovens are better, wouldn’t Qin Huai easily mess up using this stove?”

He understood Qin Huai’s skills very well.

“He’s practicing heat control. When he can produce results equal to an oven using a stove, then he’s mastered it,” Huang Shengli said, squinting at the screen. Then he shook his head. “This batch probably won’t work—the temperature’s too high.”

He was absolutely right.

When Qin Huai carefully removed the first batch and tasted the best-looking one—

It was dry.

If it were just sweet or meat filling, it might not have been so obvious. But this was shrimp filling.

The dryness stood out immediately.

Using a stove was really difficult.

Ovens truly were one of humanity’s greatest inventions.

While Qin Huai was reflecting on his failed batch, Ou Yang arrived.

He had originally come for soup, but upon smelling the pastries, he brightened. “Crab-shell pastries today?”

“Not for sale. Just testing a batch. If you want some, there are two left over there.”

Qin Huai pointed to the slightly cooled pastries on the plate.

Ou Yang grabbed one, stuffed it into his mouth, and gave a thumbs-up while chewing. “Mmm, delicious! Qin Huai, you’re really best at pastries—this is the taste!”

Qin Huai: …

He knew it. A critical tasting task like this could never be entrusted to Ou Yang.

This guy said everything tasted good.

After finishing his review, Qin Huai prepared for the second batch. At the same time, he messaged Luo Jun, asking Zhang Shumei to come pick up the pastries, flatbread, and tea at the right time.

For something this delicate, it required a true “professional” taster like Luo Jun.

The best part?

Luo Jun refused to go out.

Qin Huai stayed in the canteen, Luo Jun stayed at home. At worst, Luo Jun would complain over WeChat—he wouldn’t insult him face-to-face.

At this moment, Qin Huai deeply felt that Luo Jun was truly an excellent and helpful neighbor.

If there were an award for “Best Neighbor of Yunzhi Residential Complex” this year—

He would definitely vote for Luo Jun.