Abnormal Gourmet Chronicle
Chapter 55 - 49: Why are side quests so hard these days?

Chapter 55: Chapter 49: Why are side quests so hard these days?

In the following days, Qin Huai started his routine of working a regular job in the morning and practicing making locust flower buns and randomly flavored buckwheat buns in the afternoon.

As for why he practiced locust flower buns and buckwheat buns together.

Qin Huai felt that always seeing the C-grade locust flower buns was frustrating, so he needed to make some buns that currently taste better than locust flower buns to achieve psychological balance.

By the way, cold tea was also given out daily.

The cold tea was alternately prepared by Qin Luo and Zhao Rong, whoever had time would brew it, while Qin Huai was only responsible for the dried tangerine peel tea. Zhao Rong felt the reason the cold tea on the first day was poorly received was due to the Five Flower Tea not tasting good and strongly suggested changing it to Summer Mulberry Chrysanthemum Tea, yet the negative reviews persisted.

Qin Luo believed the poor reception of the cold tea was because it was her mom who brewed it, and her mom didn’t like adding sugar to the cold tea; who would drink cold tea without even a little rock sugar!

So at Qin Luo’s strong urging, the cold tea she was in charge of always had lots of rock sugar, yet the reviews she received were still evenly matched with Zhao Rong’s.

Witnessing all this was Qin Congwen, who had been drinking cold tea since childhood and always ended up finishing the cold tea when his son and daughter refused to drink it:

"Stop arguing, cold tea was never going to taste great in the first place, and your levels of brewing have only made the mediocre flavor even worse."

In summary, the only cold tea sent out every day that could barely be drunk was Qin Huai’s dried tangerine peel tea, perhaps because dried tangerine peel tea itself wasn’t that bad and rarely failed.

The spectators believed this, but the involved parties didn’t; both Zhao Rong and Qin Luo thought their brewed cold tea was better than the other’s and insisted on competing.

Amid this inexplicable mother-daughter rivalry, sales of homemade lemon tea soared. Every day at lunchtime, Qin Luo would make lemon tea and even changed her WeChat profile picture to her homemade lemon tea, drawing the concern of Granny Qin, who shared various health tips in the family group.

Granny Qin thought her granddaughter wanted to drink milk tea but wasn’t allowed by her parents, so she specially sent a 30-yuan red envelope to Qin Luo to buy the largest cup.

While Qin Luo was caught up in tea, Qin Huai’s progress with buns wasn’t going too well.

Actually, saying it wasn’t going well wasn’t accurate; to be precise, there was no progress at all.

The issue with making locust flower buns was entirely technical, and Qin Huai could see this through the system. The skill level was lacking, making it difficult to improve, and without improvement, he couldn’t reach the threshold for making locust flower buns; increasing proficiency in pastry took a long time and wouldn’t show significant improvement in the short term.

In summary: Practice makes perfect.

Qin Huai wasn’t too upset that his locust flower buns were always C-grade or C- in quality as he was always acutely self-aware.

For instance, he was talented in pastry-making.

For instance, he was merely average in academics.

For instance, he and Qin Congwen were on par in cooking.

For instance, he would never run a business like Ouyang, losing 6.6 million in a year.

For Qin Huai, failing to achieve something clearly unachievable was expected, and succeeding would be a pleasant surprise instead.

He wouldn’t feel frustrated or distressed over something anticipated.

What troubled Qin Huai was that he still couldn’t figure out what honey fermentation was all about.

He felt like a cultivation apprentice at the Qi Cultivation Stage trying to study a Golden Core Stage method. He knew it was a good method and it was officially recognized as a good one, but he couldn’t see what was good about it.

Unable to learn was one thing, but not being able to see its benefits at all was a bit much, wasn’t it?

At the Qi Cultivation Stage, Qin Huai somewhat wanted to seek advice from a fellow senior.

After a week of fruitless method research, Qin Huai stopped Uncle Wang, who was feeling down about the lack of fresh shrimp filling for Crab Shell Cake, one plain morning.

"Grandpa Wang," Qin Huai felt he was a bit desperate at this point, "I remember you mentioned before that when you were young, you worked over in Gusu, and there was a Master Jing at the state-owned restaurant there who was particularly skilled at making buns."

"Yeah," Uncle Wang perked up at the mention of Master Jing, feeling like he was back in those thrilling days, "Master Jing was not only good at making buns, but also made delicious snacks and was exceptional at cooking."

"But Master Jing’s dishes were a bit expensive and I couldn’t afford them, I only heard about them from our factory leader."

"Last time, you said you would ask your old colleagues to help me contact Master Jing. I’ve encountered a very tricky issue with making buns recently and I’m eager to consult Master Jing, a white pastry veteran with years of experience. Do you still have his contact information..." Qin Huai showed a somewhat troubled expression, looking at Uncle Wang with hopeful eyes seeking help.

Uncle Wang: ...

Uncle Wang, feeling a bit guilty, looked down, instinctively scratched his nose, his expression complicated, thought for a moment and said directly, "Xiao Qin, I’m sorry."

"It’s like this, because I transferred jobs many years ago and left Gusu, so I’m not really updated on the situation over there."

"But I didn’t lie to you. I truly contacted my former coworkers, but they told me Master Jing has been deceased for decades."

"I remember when I transferred, Master Jing had retired due to a recurrent leg injury, and was said to have passed away shortly after a year or two of retiring. As he is no longer alive, I didn’t tell you."

Qin Huai paused for a moment, feeling somewhat regretful but didn’t say much: "That’s truly unfortunate."

"Yes, indeed," Uncle Wang sighed, holding his tray as he sat back at table 9.

As he chewed on a Five Fillings Bun, Uncle Wang suddenly remembered that the coworker told him Master Jing’s white pastry apprentice, Little Zheng, had now made it big, ventured into business, and made lots of money, even opened a factory producing salted egg yolk pastry.

He had even bought that brand of egg yolk pastry during last year’s New Year; it was quite expensive but tasted decent.

At the time, he just treated it as an interesting tidbit. But now, Master Qin urgently needed help, even though Little Zheng wasn’t good at making buns, with results that were abysmal; the person seemed quite enthusiastic.

Uncle Wang glanced up at the kitchen, seeing Qin Huai frowning and seemingly very troubled, thought of telling him this, then decided to hold back considering he had spoken too soon without getting the facts right last time.

Forget it, this time he should first have his coworker contact Little Zheng, acquire Little Zheng’s WeChat, then give Master Qin a surprise.

Uncle Wang nodded affirmatively.

Across from Uncle Wang, Xu Tuqiang glanced at him, noticing the myriad of little moves with every bun he ate, and somehow felt like this guy would soon be devouring two days’ worth of fresh shrimp-filled Crab Shell Cake again.

Damn it, why does Wang Laogen have such good fortune?

Xu Tuqiang angrily stuffed a bun into his mouth, glancing at the activity poster on the wall.

[For guests with ’Jun’ in their name, please look here. Free homemade lemon tea is waiting for you!]

Xu Tuqiang expressed that despite not minding the cost of a cup of homemade lemon tea, missing out on that deal was frustrating.

It was whatever that he couldn’t join in the Luo-named cold tea event before since that wasn’t tasty anyway, but now he couldn’t participate in the lemon tea event either.

What’s with counting ’Jun’ in the name anyhow? A name with ’Strong’ is truly strong, alright!

Xu Tuqiang snorted disdainfully and continued eating his bun.

In the kitchen, Qin Huai, still frowning, was checking the homemade lemon tea claim list.

This Luo Jun, what’s the deal?

Is the name really that rare?

Letting go of claiming cold tea was one thing, but skipping out on homemade lemon tea as well. The side mission was issued a long time ago, and since then, not to mention meeting the task’s target, Qin Huai didn’t even know if this Luo Jun was male or female.

Qin Huai put his phone away.

Does he really need to put out a missing persons notice?

Why are side missions so difficult these days?