Chapter 151: Selling Out

In the back kitchen of the Huang Ji Restaurant, the food runners were so busy they couldn't even touch the ground.

"Four wine-fermented steamed buns for Table 3."

"Seven wine-fermented steamed buns for Table 1."

"Table 9 added an order, twelve more wine-fermented steamed buns."

"Nine wine-fermented steamed buns for Private Room 666."

"An add-on for Private Room 888, twenty-four wine-fermented steamed buns."

"Table 1 added an order, nineteen!"

"Table 8..."

"Table 17..."

"..."

"Private Room 777 added another order, are there any left?"

"Tables 19, 3, 6, 13, and 22 have all added orders, do we have any?"

"How many buns are left?"

"How long until the next batch is steamed?"

Qin Huai, who was still leisurely making mung bean cakes, looked at the food runner who wouldn't stop talking into the headset. He stood at the kitchen entrance, presiding over the situation and directing which batch of buns should go to which table first. Qin Huai felt he might have underestimated the business at Huang Ji Restaurant.

What time was it now?

11:22 AM.

The first six steamer baskets of wine-fermented steamed buns were already sold out, and there was an endless queue of add-on orders behind them.

Qin Huai felt like he had returned to the early days of selling steamed buns at his own breakfast shop—knowing nothing, not knowing which buns would sell well, not knowing how much to make in a day, just making them, knowing they would definitely sell out.

Eh, it seemed it had been like this for many years.

Qin Huai held a humble heart and asked Wang Jun, "Did I make too few wine-fermented steamed buns? Should I add another batch? I made enough for lunch and dinner this morning, but it feels like they'll be sold out by lunch."

Wang Jun said very tactfully, "Just follow your own plan; you can take more orders once they're sold out."

Qin Huai understood: it wasn't enough.

"Then help me prepare a few more bags of flour," Qin Huai said. "I'll make another batch after I finish the mung bean cakes."

The explosion of orders for the wine-fermented steamed buns was just the beginning.

The reason they sold out so fast wasn't because the customers at Huang Ji Restaurant today were particularly fond of buns, but because the wine-fermented steamed buns had the shortest steaming time and were the first to come out of the steamer.

After the first batch sold out, the two kitchen helpers who didn't have names in this story efficiently started steaming the second batch. At the same time, the Four-Joy Dumplings and Five-Dice Buns came out of the steamer in the same batch.

According to Huang Ji Restaurant's pricing, the Four-Joy Dumplings were 48 yuan each, and the Five-Dice Buns were 65 yuan each. These two items were among the most expensive on the list Qin Huai had provided.

Of course, Zheng Siyuan's fresh meat mooncakes weren't cheap either, at 68 yuan for a portion of three.

Huang Ji Restaurant was a high-end establishment, and the high prices started with the dishes.

With prices like these, customers like Qian Zhongheng, who blindly trusted Huang Shengli's taste and ordered everything on the menu without a second thought, were rare.

Most customers ordered based on what they saw others eating. The wine-fermented steamed buns were served first, and the aroma of the wine could be smelled several tables away. Seeing other tables enjoying them, they ordered some too. After eating them, they felt it wasn't enough and added more orders, or even packed some to take home for breakfast the next day.

Huang Ji Restaurant served dishes in the order they were ordered, and Qian Zhongheng was among the first, so naturally, his table was served first.

Even though only two hot dishes had been served and the meal wasn't complete, Qian Zhongheng's son felt he was already full.

He hadn't been able to resist earlier and had "borrowed" from tomorrow's breakfast, eating an extra bun from an add-on order.

It was too delicious. As a standard staple food, pure carbohydrates, it was the most universally appealing.

The son felt he had lived for over thirty years and had never eaten a bun that was so fluffy and soft, yet chewy, with the fragrance of the bun itself mixed with the sweetness of the wine fermentation. It smelled like wine but tasted only of a hint of sweetness.

He wanted another one after eating one, and even after he was full, he wanted to stuff in half a bun more. It was delicious plain, delicious dipped in the sauce of other dishes, and even delicious dipped in the sweet and sour sauce of the Squirrel Mandarin Fish.

If only there were some pickled mustard greens.

The son thought greedily; he loved pickled mustard greens inside his buns, though he didn't know if wine-fermented steamed buns would taste good with them.

The son glanced at the hot dishes on the table that had barely been touched.

He had only ordered three dishes.

Squirrel Mandarin Fish: no bones, sweet and sour, his daughter loved it.

Stir-fried lettuce: to cleanse the palate.

And a dish of stir-fried shrimp: his wife loved it, but it hadn't been served yet.

Now the stir-fried lettuce had been served; they had eaten two bites, mostly Bai Xiujuan being polite. The Squirrel Mandarin Fish was even more desolate; only one chopstick-full had been taken, by Ma Yuan for her daughter. But the daughter was busy gnawing on a bun with great relish, not even giving a glance at the fish in her bowl, clearly focused only on eating the bun.

The stir-fried shrimp was served.

The shrimp were white and clean, looking very pretty, but the son looked at his wife and found Ma Yuan hadn't picked up her chopsticks.

"Wife, shrimp." The son reminded her.

Ma Yuan just hummed, not picking up her chopsticks, sitting quietly as if waiting for something.

Seeing that everyone had no interest in the hot dishes, the son's eyes drifted involuntarily back to the buns on the plate. The white, plump wine-fermented steamed buns seemed to have magic, whispering like devils in his ear.

Eat one more, just three buns, it won't make me too full.

The son was tempted.

Just then, the server brought more food.

A brand new aroma drifted over—the scent of flour-based food, the special aroma of freshly steamed food that had just come out of the steamer.

"The Four-Joy Dumplings and Five-Dice Buns you ordered, please enjoy. They were just steamed, so they might be a bit hot. Please be careful when the child eats them." The server reminded them thoughtfully.

The people at the table moved.

Qian Zhongheng immediately set his sights on the fancy Four-Joy Dumplings. He reached out with his chopsticks, picked one up steadily along with the carrot slice underneath, and looked at it for a moment. He didn't understand whether the carrot slice was for decoration or taste, so he gave up thinking and took a big bite.

With just one bite, the Four-Joy Dumplings, which Qin Huai had improved again, completely conquered Qian Zhongheng's taste buds.

Four-Joy Dumplings and wine-fermented steamed buns were two completely different types of dim sum.

No matter how delicious, fragrant, unique, or unforgettable the wine-fermented steamed buns were, they were still just ordinary buns.

At least, they looked like ordinary buns.

But the Four-Joy Dumplings—many people might not even recognize them as dumplings at first glance.

The Four-Joy Dumplings were all about being fancy and looking expensive.

Qin Huai's skills lived up to the fanciness of the Four-Joy Dumplings.

You have to know, the chefs who came to work at Huang Ji Restaurant today had all eaten breakfast before coming to work.

Huang Jia was the second-in-command in the Huang Ji kitchen after Master Huang. Although his skills were often criticized by old customers for being far inferior to his master's, he was still a chef with a name in Suzhou.

Huang Jia had eaten a bowl of noodles before coming to the restaurant this morning.

Then he arrived and found that Zheng Siyuan had made Crepe Wontons and Bubble Wontons. He was very tempted and very restrained, eating only four of each—no harm done.

But he couldn't control himself when it came to the Four-Joy Dumplings.

He ate two.

He had been feeling full all morning, and even now, while he was stir-frying in the kitchen, if you looked closely, you could see him secretly rubbing his stomach.

Huang Jia considered himself someone who had seen the world, but he had never seen Four-Joy Dumplings like these.

And that was even more true for Qian Zhongheng's family.

It could be said that apart from the residents of the Yunzhong residential area and the area near the Third Road residential area in Quxian, no one had seen Four-Joy Dumplings like these. Even the residents of Third Road hadn't seen them much, as Qin Huai didn't like making them often.

Who told Qin Huai to change the recipe beyond recognition to make Four-Joy Dumplings that Qin Luo loved, looked good, and resembled Golden Ratio Shumai? Now, he had even fused the filling of the "fruit" into them.

In a sense, these Four-Joy Dumplings could be called Four-Joy Dumplings, Four-Mouth Dumplings, or Golden Ratio Shumai. Call them whatever you want; as long as Qin Huai dared to name them, people dared to accept them.

Qian Zhongheng was instantly conquered by these fancy dumplings.

He didn't even realize he had finished the whole dumpling before remembering he had forgotten to feed a bite to his granddaughter.

Qian Zhongheng looked at his granddaughter, who was still gnawing on a bun with all her might, and felt that it was fine for the child to eat something simple.

His son picked up a Five-Dice Diced Baozi.

He didn't pick it up because he didn't like the fancy Four-Joy Dumplings; he mainly wanted to see why this plain-looking Five-Dice Diced Baozi, which looked no different from a meat bun, was worth so much money.

The son took the first bite indignantly.

He couldn't wait to take the second bite.

He took the third bite, intoxicated.

He wanted to take the... but it was gone.

The son savored the lingering taste, feeling a sense of loss, as if a beautiful dream had shattered before he could finish it.

He really wanted to roar at the server to add four more buns.

But he couldn't shout it out—it was too expensive.

An 18-yuan wine-fermented steamed bun could be eaten for breakfast by gritting his teeth, but a 65-yuan Five-Dice Diced Baozi was truly unaffordable.

The son felt like crying.

Why wasn't he a rich man? Why couldn't his boss give him a raise? Boss, do you know your employees are so poor they can't afford buns?

"Hiccup." The son let out a sad hiccup. He was full.

But that fancy dumpling looked like it tasted good. Forget it, sacrifice the stomach and eat one more.

The son reached out with his chopsticks.

His father reached out faster.

"If you're full, don't force yourself. You're not a child anymore; don't you have any self-control?" Qian Zhongheng ruthlessly took the Four-Joy Dumpling from the plate, took the steamed bun his granddaughter had gnawed on, and handed her the dumpling. "Here, Mengmeng, eat this. If you can't finish it, give it to Grandpa. We won't eat the steamed buns; we'll take them home to eat for dinner tonight, okay?"

"Okay." The granddaughter thought the fancy dumpling looked better and happily gnawed on it, not seeing the look of shock on her father's face.

Son: Dad, I can eat it, I really can! qaq

With Qian Zhongheng's table acting as a promotional advertisement, other customers in the lobby also placed orders for Four-Joy Dumplings and Five-Dice Buns, though the order volume wasn't as large as the wine-fermented steamed buns.

After all, the price was there. Even if the neighboring table smelled delicious, not everyone could accept a 65-yuan bun.

The customers at Huang Ji Restaurant weren't here for dim sum. Most of the customers who came to eat during the workday were regulars, and everyone knew the level of Huang Ji's dim sum.

When there was a dim sum chef years ago, the level was just average for a restaurant in the city, far inferior to the hot dishes.

People only had one mouth and one stomach. Huang Ji's hot dishes were far superior to their dim sum, so why would anyone eat dim sum instead of good dishes?

Today, the situation seemed to have reversed.

The customers who had followed the trend and eaten the wine-fermented steamed buns, Four-Joy Dumplings, and Five-Dice Buns were suddenly surprised to find that the level of this dim sum chef, who had appeared out of nowhere, seemed quite high.

He had come with unique skills.

Some customers hadn't eaten Four-Joy Dumplings or Five-Dice Buns like these before.

Some older regulars could tell that the wine-fermented steamed buns were in the style of Huang Shengli's lineage—definitely the same style as Master Jing's wine-fermented steamed buns. The skill wasn't as good as Master Jing's, but it was seven or eight percent similar, which was not bad.

Some customers felt they had guessed the truth.

"Could it be that Old Huang's health is bad, and seeing that the restaurant's business is failing, he called Zheng Da back to save the day?" In Private Room 888, a loyal customer of Huang Ji Restaurant, who had attended three wedding banquets for the same couple, guessed.

This guess was agreed upon by most of the guests in Private Room 888.

Everyone was a regular, everyone had eaten wedding banquets, and some even went to Zheng Siyuan's pastry shop to buy pastries on weekdays, so they were very familiar with Zheng Siyuan's skills.

Zheng Siyuan's skills were good, but he only made a few things exceptionally well. He couldn't make Four-Joy Dumplings, Five-Dice Buns, or wine-fermented steamed buns at this level.

A regular customer gnawing on a fresh meat mooncake said, "This mooncake must have been made by Master Master Xiao Zheng. Master Master Xiao Zheng's pastry shop has been under renovation and closed for a month. Who knows where he went for that month? Now that he's been called back by Old Huang to help, it's possible."

"I didn't expect Zheng Da to have such good skills after doing business for so many years." Someone sighed.

"What did you expect? Have you eaten at Old Gong's wedding banquet? Twenty-eight years ago, when Zheng Da first went into business, the dim sum served at the end of the banquet was all made by Zheng Da. That skill was truly something else."

"Master Master Xiao Zheng is still a bit worse than his father."

"Indeed." Someone agreed while eating a Four-Joy Dumpling. "In terms of variety, he still can't compare to his father."

"Zheng Da is cooking; this is a rare opportunity. Order more, server!"

The server came in, and the regular customer who was ordering counted the heads: "Today's new items, fifty of each, to go. No rush, but make sure you save enough for us."

"Okay." The server went to place the order.

This scene was repeated in almost every private room, and some even called friends and family, telling them that Zheng Da had been dragged back to cook by Huang Shengli, and not to miss out—hurry to Huang Ji to pack some dim sum, or it would be gone.

For a time, orders exploded.

Qin Huai was stunned.

Qin Huai suspected that the ordering system at Huang Ji Restaurant might have a problem. To prove his hypothesis, he even ran outside to take a look and see if the lobby was full.

It wasn't full at all!

So now the question was, how did so many customers order five times the amount of dim sum per head?

And it wasn't five times the total; it was five times for almost every item.

No, did the people of Suzhou love dim sum that much?

Was Huang Ji Restaurant closing for good after lunch today?

Did this dim sum have to be bought during lunch, and couldn't be bought at night?

Dear customers, some dim sum is only good when freshly baked. Like Crab Shell Yellow or Dream-Fulfilling Shaobing—if you buy a bunch at noon and take them home, will they still taste the same after being microwaved? Why order so many?

Eat some dishes! Look at the hot dish chefs busy in the kitchen at Huang Ji Restaurant, order their signature dishes!

Most importantly, he didn't make that much!

This was the total amount for lunch and dinner!

If you buy it all at noon, what will Huang Ji sell at night?

Wasn't it said that the work at Huang Ji Restaurant was very easy? Qin Huai didn't feel the workload was easy at all.

The lead server was still directing the counting.

"Count the remaining amount of each item one last time, report the specific numbers to me. All dim sum on the electronic menu has been taken down; if there is any remaining amount, put it back up."

"Count it one last time, the numbers cannot be wrong!"

"Private Room 666 wants to add an order? Tell them there is none, there really is none. Can they pre-order? Tell them no, our restaurant has never had a precedent for pre-ordering dim sum."

Qin Huai kneaded the dough numbly.

To be honest, he wasn't tired at all right now.

When making dim sum in the morning, he had enough professional and thoughtful helpers to assist him, so Qin Huai really wasn't tired.

But he was mentally tired.

He felt like he had seen a life of making dim sum that stretched out endlessly.

These customers, they really bought dim sum if it was available.

And they bought in such large quantities.

Could Huang Ji Restaurant implement a pairing system for selling dim sum in the future? They must order a certain amount of hot dishes before they can buy dim sum, otherwise, these people bought dim sum too outrageously.

Just eating dim sum, not ordering a single dish.

Qin Huai had seen it when he went outside—some people were just sitting on chairs at the entrance waiting for dim sum, not here to eat at all.

And there were familiar delivery riders.

Too familiar; familiar enough that Qin Huai felt like he was home.

Zheng Siyuan also started kneading dough.

"Eh, aren't you making glutinous rice cakes?" Qin Huai asked.

Zheng Siyuan said calmly, "Helping you make some first."

Qin Huai was moved. Good buddy, enough said. Although I treated you like a beast of burden before, now your uncle is treating me like a beast of burden, so we're even.

"Now you know why I didn't want to work in a restaurant and instead went to open a pastry shop at the entrance of the residential area," Zheng Siyuan said.

"I know, I know too well." Qin Huai nodded frantically. "I have never missed my community cafeteria so much."

"Don't make so much dim sum in the future; this place is different from the Yunzhong cafeteria," Zheng Siyuan advised sincerely. "Two types are enough, no more."

"My uncle cooked too many dishes yesterday, and his waist seems to be acting up again, so he went for physical therapy this morning. You don't have to make dim sum when he comes over in the afternoon. At night... there are even more people, and no matter how much you make, it won't be enough to sell."

"Let nature take its course. My uncle said he would come over in the afternoon to guide us on heat control."

When Qin Huai heard that Huang Shengli was coming over in the afternoon to personally guide them on heat control, he felt he could do it again—he could make two more batches of wine-fermented steamed buns.

Forget about the Four-Joy Dumplings and Five-Dice Buns; those were a bit troublesome, he was tired and didn't want to make them.

"Are you learning too?" Qin Huai asked. He felt Zheng Siyuan's heat control was quite good and didn't need to learn at all.

If he had Zheng Siyuan's heat control, making longevity noodles would be a piece of cake, easily A-level.

Zheng Siyuan nodded and said firmly, "I want to try the big flip!"

Qin Huai:...?

Qin Huai felt his pursuit might be a bit low.

He only wanted to try flipping the spoon.

On the other side, Zheng Da, who was far away in Hangzhou and dealing with production line problems, suddenly received a call from an old friend.

As soon as it connected, the old friend's loud voice came through the phone.

"Old Zheng, you're being too unfriendly. You didn't even notify your old friend when you went back to help at Huang Ji Restaurant, causing us to almost miss out."

Zheng Da was confused: "What help? I'm in Hangzhou, not Suzhou. You're talking about Siyuan, right? Siyuan should be helping at Huang Ji now."

The old friend was stunned: "You're not at Huang Ji? Then who made the wine-fermented steamed buns at noon today? And those Five-Dice Buns, Crab Shell Yellow, Dream-Fulfilling Shaobing, and Four-Joy Dumplings? If it wasn't you, who else could it be? Who else in Suzhou has this skill? Your son doesn't have it; I've eaten his Five-Dice Buns."

As soon as Zheng Da heard the list of dishes, he knew it must have been Qin Huai. He felt a sense of pride—as expected of his chosen closing disciple, who could shock everyone with just a slight move.

He even felt a bit of resentment toward Huang Shengli. What was his senior brother doing? Letting Assistant Xiao Qin make so many dim sum alone—what if his future precious disciple got tired? He really had no sense of proportion.

Seeing Zheng Da not speaking, the old friend continued: "If it really wasn't you, then tell me where Old Huang dug up such a master. This level is on par with yours. Could it be that a chef from Does Zhi Wei Ju resigned?"

Zheng Da was furious when he heard this: "What nonsense are you talking about? What do you mean on par with mine? Gong Datou, can you even eat? How could this level be the same as mine? My level is definitely higher than this!"

If Qin Huai's level was on par with his, where would he have the face to take Qin Huai as a disciple?

"Where are you?" Zheng Da asked.

"I'm waiting for dim sum at Huang Ji. I thought it was you who went to Huang Ji, so I rushed over to buy some, fearing you'd run away after working for just one noon. So it wasn't you."

"Buy less, don't tire Assistant Xiao Qin out."

"Oh, the new chef is your friend, right? Fine, I have it in mind. Hanging up now."

Before hanging up, Zheng Da heard the other person ask the server:

"Beauty, when will my 20 buns, 30 Five-Dice Buns, 50 Four-Joy Dumplings, 10 portions of Dream-Fulfilling Shaobing, and 15 Crab Shell Yellow be ready?"

Zheng Da:...

Have you never eaten dim sum in your previous life? Hoarding so much, are you a hamster?

Zheng Da sent a message to Huang Shengli.

Zheng Da: Senior brother, I asked you to take care of Assistant Xiao Qin, and this is how you take care of him? Assistant Xiao Qin is my future closing disciple. If he gets tired, what should I do???

Huang Shengli, who had just finished physical therapy and was leisurely drinking tea:?

What the hell? Since when did Qin Huai become Zheng Da's closing disciple?

Huang Shengli thought of a new term he had learned on the internet recently, which was very applicable to Zheng Da.

"Moon-landing porcelain-touching" (a slang term for someone who makes absurd, over-the-top claims to associate themselves with someone else).

Huang Shengli put down his phone and continued drinking tea, formulating his teaching plan for the afternoon.

Two-in-one.

(End of chapter)

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