"What’s the number they’re handing out at the door now?"
"Oh my gosh, it’s only just past 10 a.m. By noon, won’t the line be up to a thousand or two?"
"Yeah, I’ve heard Team leader Cao announced that there’s a limit on Fermented Rice with Steamed Buns and Three Meat Buns, too. You can’t buy more than six at a time."
"Isn’t this the first time Huang Ji has put a purchase limit?"
"No choice. Even if there are only 1000 numbers, with 6 per person, that’s 6000 pastries. Master Qin would be exhausted and still couldn’t make enough."
"Isn’t Master Zheng helping out?"
"Master Zheng is slow."
Zheng Da, who was trying hard to help: ...
What are they saying? What are they saying? What do they mean, Master Zheng is slow???
Zheng Da glanced at Qin Huai, who was almost working at factory assembly line speed.
Alright, maybe he is a bit slow.
But you can’t completely blame him; after all, he hasn’t made pastries much over the years, and Qin Huai is just too fast.
Zheng Da looked at Qin Huai with some concern, feeling that Qin Huai’s status wasn’t quite right.
Zheng Da was all too familiar with this status, exactly like Huang Shengli. When Huang Shengli first started managing Huang Ji, it was ; he couldn’t bear to let customers wait in vain, so he forced himself to do more.
Today a bit more, tomorrow a bit more; over time, plus the big wave that came with "Taste", he ended up with lower back damage, affecting his cooking career directly.
But Zheng Da also felt that Qin Huai and Huang Shengli back then were somewhat different.
Huang Shengli was more pressured by internal stress, forcing himself to do more; it was forced.
Qin Huai, however, seemed to... actually enjoy it.
Zheng Da was a bit bewildered.
Usually, Qin Huai didn’t seem like a workaholic.
Could it be that the group at Zhiwei Restaurant influenced him?
Not to mention Zheng Da feeling bewildered, even Qin Huai found it quite amazing.
The number of people queueing outside soared, and Team leader Cao took emergency measures, starting by giving out numbers to those waiting in line, then opening up online number assignment. He also sent out the staff to persuade the waiting customers, telling them that Huang Ji wouldn’t operate until after 11 a.m., and notified their phones ahead of time; it was still early, and they could stroll around the nearby pedestrian street meanwhile.
The back kitchen team heard through Dong Shi about all these situations loud and clear.
The pressure in the back kitchen was heavy as well.
Because many customers took double numbers, one for dine-in and another for take-away snacks; double assurance; not getting a seat and still being able to buy snacks was more than fine.
Let alone some customers started queuing before 8 a.m., just to eat both the snacks and dishes, fearing they might miss out on mobile notifications and waste their effort, unwilling to leave, instead waiting at the door for their turn.
It’s safe to say that during Huang Ji’s booming period, both the kitchen and management had their own pressures.
Even the mascot Young Master was busily answering calls, informing customers about guo’er’s selling model and sales times without a pause.
As Dong Shi passed on message after message to the back kitchen, everyone’s pressure gradually grew.
Fearing they might screw up.
Even calm and composed senior Huang Jia feared screwing up at such critical moments.
In such an atmosphere, Dong Shi dared not chat about gossip either, focusing intently on cutting and preparing, only going out occasionally to check on and report back the queue situation outside.
In such an atmosphere, you’d expect someone with the maximum workload like Qin Huai to be tense.
On the contrary, Qin Huai felt rather at ease.
Clearly, everyone was silent, each buried in their work for fear of making mistakes.
Clearly, the workload seemed endless, the quantity of 500+ number slips would make every pastry chef faint.
Clearly, the work atmosphere was exceptionally stifling, having transformed almost into a pastry assembly line, a ruthless experience accumulating machine, yearning to grow eight arms to knead, mix, chop, and cook filling all at once.
Yet, Qin Huai enjoyed this atmosphere very much.
This was an atmosphere where everyone was very tense, but everyone was concentrating on doing their job seriously, extremely efficient, making no mistakes, with clear division of work and seamless coordination.
In this atmosphere, Qin Huai found that kneading dough came even more naturally to him.
Qin Huai shook his arms.
An almost perceptive chef from Zhiwei Restaurant quickly stepped up: "Master Qin, are your arms sore? Do you need a massage?"
"No, no need." Qin Huai quickly declined.
Oops, he liked this atmosphere even more.
Qin Huai pondered seriously, could he actually be a hidden workaholic?
It shouldn’t be; he genuinely enjoys taking a vacation.
Lying at home watching TV, eating fruit, drinking iced soda, ordering takeout is the happiest thing for him.
At the entrance of Huang Ji, Team leader Cao and the staff managed to persuade many of those lined up toward the back to leave, making the queue seem significantly shorter.
Panting heavily, Wang Gen Sheng parked the shared bike, too frantic to lock it, and rushed toward Huang Ji. While running, he eyed the queue, thinking that the crowd wasn’t that big, and Qian Zhongheng was exaggerating, speeding up toward the number-dispensing area.
"I’ll... take 2 numbers!"
"Sir, one person can only take one number," the waiter reminded him.
Wang Gen Sheng, still catching his breath, said: "My wife is cycling over; I’ll take her number too."
Morning runs have their merits; with three jars of locust flower honey in Wang Gen Sheng’s bag, he was pedaling faster than Chen Juan.
The waiter handed Wang Gen Sheng a number skillfully, "Sir, she needs to be here to take a number. I can only give you one number now. There’s a pedestrian street nearby for you to explore. You are number 555. At a fast pace, you’ll be served around 12:10. You can scan the code on this paper; it’ll notify you when it’s almost your turn."