Finally, after Qin Luo quickly scrubbed three pots and nearly used the seven-step hand washing thod to prove her hands were clean enough to handle buns, she joined Ouyang, who didn’t understand the agony of waiting at all, in eating alcohol-infused stead buns after taking out the trash.
The two ate snacks like Zhu Bajie munching on the Ginseng Fruit Pie, emphasizing speed and volu.
Ouyang, taking advantage of his large mouth, finished a bun in three bites.
Qin Luo could only compete in speed, swallowing one in less than half a minute.
anwhile, Qin Huai, who savored his food in small bites by the stear, reflected: ...
Could you two at least show so respect for the chef’s hard work?
Zhao Rong and Qin Congwen were already asleep and missed the first batch of buns that fell apart; Qin Huai distributed the remaining buns among the restaurant staff, leaving just an empty tray in no ti.
"Brother, how did you manage to make alcohol-infused stead buns after just a nap? You’re amazing! Will you make them again tomorrow? I forgot to take pictures to send to He Cheng (my cousin). If you make them again tomorrow, I’ll take photos and send them to him, and it would be great if you could also make green bean ice cakes, red bean ice cakes, and osmanthus cakes; they look nice together." Qin Luo said expectantly, her invisible tail wagging quickly behind her.
Qin Huai felt as if Qin Luo’s financial calculations were about to hit him in the face. He said, "Alcohol-infused stead buns can be made."
"But not the others."
Preparing green bean ice cake, red bean ice cake, and osmanthus cake together isn’t sothing that can be settled by 1 PM; it would definitely stretch until 3 PM.
Qin Huai insisted it was absolutely impossible.
Still chewing the last bun slowly, Ouyang simply didn’t care. He wasn’t picky and would eat whatever was available, even if Qin Huai made elm bark stead buns.
The main issue was that his parents hadn’t adopted Qin Huai back in the day, so he couldn’t naturally say to Qin Huai, like Qin Luo could, "Hey, bro, I want to eat this."
Thinking of this, Ouyang sighed deeply.
Then burped.
Indeed, the buns were filling; after five, he was full, so no wonder Luoluo only ate three and ended the ’battle’ early today.
Wait, three?
Didn’t Qin Luo have dinner?
Ouyang: (=°Д°=)
Qin Luo was still trying to negotiate: "Brother, make one more osmanthus cake tomorrow, please. You haven’t made it for a week. I’ve been working diligently lately; I even cleaned the restroom yesterday!"
Qin Huai pondered for a mont: "I feel like before my nap, you hinted at wanting to make Four Happiness Dumplings. Originally, I planned to make those. Since you don’t want them, then osmanthus—"
"Absolutely not; you do whatever you want, brother. I’ll fully support you!" Qin Luo firmly declared, "It seems like the restroom wasn’t cleaned properly; I’ll go clean it again!"
Ouyang watched Qin Luo’s retreating figure: "She..."
"Had the potential to be a janitor since she was young," Qin Huai said. "Her grandpa used to tease her and my cousin, saying whoever cleaned up first would get the Five Fillings Bun. She and my cousin competed for the broom and mop from the first day of the lunar year till the Lantern Festival."
Ouyang honestly expressed his confusion over the Qin Family.
.
The next morning at 4 AM, Qin Huai was on duty.
As usual, Qin Congwen had prepared all the ingredients he could for Qin Huai, and sat facing Zhao Rong at the table, wrapping buns.
Qin Huai changed into his work clothes and entered the kitchen. Instead of making the dough and stuffing for Five Fillings Bun as usual, he took out the fernted rice to make alcohol-infused stead buns first.
The sa steps as yesterday.
Kneading, fernting, kneading again, secondary fernting, kneading again, steaming.
The sa mishap as yesterday.
[Alcohol-infused Stead Buns B-]
Looking at the B- displayed on the bun, Qin Huai found the minus sign particularly glaring.
Was it still not the optimal temperature?
Where exactly was the temperature not controlled? Was it the water temperature when kneading, the room temperature when fernting, or the fire control when steaming?
Qin Huai murmured to himself while stirring the pot of Five Fillings Bun stuffing.
"Wendy? Our Huaihuai has a crush, and it’s a foreigner?!" Qin Congwen, trying to read lips from a distance, was shocked.
Zhao Rong rolled her eyes speechlessly: "It’s the temperature; your son is focusing on the buns!"
Qin Congwen was puzzled. He had watched the whole process of Qin Huai making the buns just now.
Perfect kneading, perfect rolling, perfect ferntation, perfect degassing; although they were not yet stead, it would undoubtedly be a perfect bun once ready.
After achieving such results with buns, what more was there to ponder?
"There were no problems with the buns Huaihuai made just now." Qin Congwen said, "If I could knead dough like that, I’d laugh myself awake dreaming."
"That’s why you haven’t sold your buns beyond Third Street for so many years," Zhao Rong rcilessly retorted. "Don’t involve yourself in our son’s matters. According to Luoluo’s social dia, Huaihuai made buns until 7 last night. How long has he even slept? Let him rest. Go help oversee the stuffing in the pot; I’ll wrap these buns."
Qin Congwen quickly put down the dough sheets and went over to help.
Qin Huai decisively handed over the stuffing simring on low heat to Qin Congwen, and went to monitor the stear instead.
Even if he couldn’t see what’s inside, sitting nearby and slling it was worthwhile.
Qin Congwen felt like his son might be a bit obsessed.
Could it be that their Huaihuai isn’t compatible with alcohol-infused stead buns?
The more Qin Congwen thought about it, the more sense it seed to make. Alcohol-infused stead buns were one of the few pastries where Qin Huai often experienced mishaps. He was obsessed with making buckwheat buns recently, which surely stirred up the lancholy mories of past mishaps now urging him to challenge them anew.
Sigh, if only Luoluo was awake—they could ask about last night’s outcos.
However, looking at Qin Huai now, he likely took a hit.
Qin Congwen decided to later use his specialty in comforting his son.
Being on the receiving end of so many blows from Qin Huai over the years had made him very familiar with the feeling of being discouraged. Comforting was sothing he excelled at!
Qin Congwen, while stirring the stuffing, congratulated himself in his heart: I’m truly a great father, hahaha!
At 6:07 AM, the alcohol-infused stead buns were ready.
The ti spent on the alcohol-infused stead buns delayed things a bit, with Five Fillings Buns and Three at Buns still steaming. At this ti, Yunzhong Restaurant hadn’t begun business yet, but the first-floor hall was already filled with seniors who had been out for a morning jog.
And a few who didn’t jog but loved waking up early to have breakfast.
The elders expressed tolerance for the late breakfast.
At table 9, Xu Tuqiang, Mr. Cao, Uncle Wang, and genuinely jogging-enthusiast Uncle Liu were already sipping on iced green bean soup.
On a morning that wasn’t quite hot, after a refreshing sweaty morning jog, seated in the temperature-controlled Yunzhong Restaurant, slling their beloved buns and rice wine, while sipping on a cold, slightly sweetening green bean soup, the elders declared that a beautiful day had thus begun!
If only they could have a plate of Crab Shell Cake as well, Uncle Wang suggested, it would be perfect.
"Why is young Master Qin so averse to making Crab Shell Cake?" Uncle Wang grumbled between sipping the green bean soup about his beloved Crab Shell Cake.
Uncle Wang was like a fan of an obscure celebrity idol, angrily blaming the company for not recognizing the talent of his favorite, while still showing up punctually every day to consu, hoping to catch a glimpse of his favorite’s presence.
Except Uncle Wang was a fan of Crab Shell Cake.
Especially with shrimp flavor.
However, due to Qin Luo’s aversion to shrimp, Qin Huai didn’t have the habit of making pastries with shrimp fillings. Moreover, since Crab Shell Cake required an oven, Qin Huai would make it together with other pastries needing an oven whenever he did bake, so the chances of Crab Shell Cake appearing on the nu were indeed slim.
So slim that it made Uncle Wang want to challenge Qin Huai’s conscience. 21 days—21 whole days! The shrimp-flavored Crab Shell Cake only appeared twice in 21 days! Did he even know how Uncle Wang got through those 21 days?!
What was so good about fried dough stick? Why did it appear 17 tis in 21 days?!
No one was aware of Uncle Wang’s indignant outcry. He could only gulp down his green bean soup while staring at Qin Huai’s busy figure in the kitchen: "Is it ready? Do you all sll the alcohol?"
The elders responded in unison, "Yes, slls like rice wine."
"But it’s a bit faint."
"Is young Master Qin making egg-drop soup with rice wine? I should order a bowl later!"
"Egg-drop soup with rice wine should be made on the spot as you order, right? I don’t see it on the nu; maybe young Master Qin made it for himself."
"Hehe, then I definitely have to try a bowl."
In the kitchen, Qin Congwen was stunned by the freshly stead alcohol-infused stead buns.
So beautiful.
Simply beautiful.
Qin Congwen rarely used beautiful to describe a bun, but these were just perfect for his bun aesthetics.
White, plump, smooth, round, cute—these were truly a dream for anyone who loved white buns!
When did his son acquire such skill?
Even with this skill, he still wasn’t satisfied?!
"Dad, have a taste." Qin Huai used tongs to break open a bun, offering half to Qin Congwen. "I always feel like it’s missing sothing. I rember a place down the street in our childhood used to sell these alcohol-infused stead buns, but I can’t recall their exact flavor. Can you tell what’s lacking in mine?"
Qin Congwen took the bun, biting into it through the steam.
A chew, a swallow.
Oh my, is this what alcohol-infused stead buns are supposed to taste like!
That now unnad bun seller from the neighboring street was just squandering such goodness!
"Huaihuai!" Qin Congwen earnestly said, "You lack confidence!"
Qin Huai: ...
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