If I ask you to set up a stall, why do you always run to deserted places?

"That's not what I meant," Fang Lei quickly explained. "I thought we were mainly here to see this today."

"You haven't even eaten anything yet, what are you looking at?" Old Qin glanced at him.

"It depends on how you play it," Fang Lei said.

"You dare to change someone's formula after only glancing at the operation a few times?" Old Qin said.

As soon as these words were spoken, all nine people simultaneously looked away, because it was Fang Lei who said them.

Han Zhiyuan suppressed a laugh and led the person to the number distribution point. Zhou Ye had a megaphone hanging around his neck and was distributing numbers and giving reminders.

"Each number can only buy a maximum of three pancakes; millet pudding is charged separately! After getting your number, don't block the food delivery area! Those with numbers 600 and above should wander around the area first; you definitely won't get a turn within an hour!"

"Stop asking if you can pay extra to cut in line! The guy ahead of me who offered 500 has already been yelled at by his girlfriend!"

When it was Han Zhiyuan's turn, the number had already reached 631. Each of the nine young pastry chefs received a number. Fang Lei looked at number 634 in his hand and felt a little numb.

"How much have you accomplished so far?"

"287," Zhou Ye said.

"More than 300 short?" Fang Lei exclaimed.

"Yes." Zhou Ye nodded.

"How long will it take?"

Zhou Ye glanced at him. "Just a little while."

"Huh?" Fang Lei was taken aback.

"The boss is known for being fast!"

Fang Lei: "..."

Stop kidding me!

But since we're already here, we can't just take the number and head straight down the mountain.

The nine people could only stand outside the isolation zone and move forward little by little along the line.

At first, they really seemed like they were there to find fault. Some looked at the stove, some looked at the ingredients, and some stared at the steam that came out every time Su Yun opened the lid, trying to judge the cooking temperature from it.

After watching for more than ten minutes, Fang Lei spoke first: "The food is indeed served quickly, but if he keeps using high heat like this, the bottom of the pot will definitely get too browned."

As soon as he finished speaking, Su Yun used tongs to flip the row of pastries in the pan over. All twenty-four pastries had a uniform golden-brown bottom.

Fang Lei "......."

This is such a quick slap in the face!

Jiang Haoran's gaze never left the cutting board. Things that were unclear in the video became clear all at once when he got closer.

There were five different noodle boxes on the left side of the cutting board.

Each box has a small label of a different color on the outside. At first glance, the dough inside looks pretty much the same, but once you take it out, the texture and elasticity are completely different.

The beef filling is juicy, the dough is rolled out wider, the mutton is fatty, and the outer flaky layer is noticeably thicker. When it comes to the brown sugar and walnut filling, Su Yun not only changed the dough, but also changed the direction in which the flaky pastry is rolled.

Last night, he wasn't mistaken; this wasn't a dough ball with five different fillings, but five sets of things!

"Luo Min," Jiang Haoran suddenly called out.

The short-haired girl followed his gaze and asked, "What's wrong?"

"Look at those three boxes of noodles on his right."

Luo Min, who had initially just been watching the spectacle, became serious upon hearing this.

She makes Suzhou-style pastries and is more sensitive to the oil and pastry process than others.

After looking at a few, the casualness in her eyes gradually disappeared. "There's another box at the very back, making a total of four boxes. The colors are all similar, but the textures are different."

"Are you sure?" Jiang Haoran was taken aback.

"When he was wrapping the mushroom filling, he tightened his grip even more, but the dough didn't shrink back. It must have rested twice," Luo Min analyzed.

The two people weren't speaking loudly, but the young pastry chefs nearby could hear them clearly.

Fang Lei also looked back at the cutting board. His family had been making steamed buns for over ten years, and efficiency was their top priority.

One dough ball with several different fillings saves labor and makes it convenient to prepare ingredients in one place. As long as the taste is similar, customers can't tell much difference. But this stall is different. Su Yun only takes about twenty dough balls from the dough box each time, and only lifts the next layer of damp cloth after using them.

The wind is strong at the top of the mountain, and once the dough dries, the seam is prone to cracking. He didn't lay out all the dough pieces in advance to save time, nor did he skip any of the resting time just because there were hundreds of people waiting outside. Yet, he was not slow at all. He could keep an eye on the previous batch while handling this batch.

The millet pudding next to him started bubbling. He raised his hand and turned the heat down a level, without even lifting the lid. He was the only one actually making things at the stall, yet he managed to keep the five kinds of pancakes, the pot, and the bucket of millet pudding perfectly organized.

"Numbers 301 to 320, you can come and pick up your meals now!"

Zhou Ye shouted, and the crowd moved forward a bit, with Fang Lei also taking two steps.

"It's 320 now." A few minutes later, he glanced at the number plate again. "Holy crap! It's 360 now."

"What this brother said was absolutely right!" Fang Lei glanced at Zhou Ye. "This boss is indeed famously fast!"

After he finished speaking, he glanced at the freshly baked mutton pastry. The flaky crust was slightly puffed up by the heat, and the aroma of cumin and mutton wafted over on the breeze.

Fang Lei silently turned his face to the side. This wind, it seems, just blows where there are the most people, doesn't it? It's making him so hungry!

A short while later, number 631 was finally called.

Han Zhiyuan and his group had been queuing for so long.

They used to maintain a certain air of being young pastry chefs, but now, upon hearing the number, they all leave faster than the last.

Fang Lei almost overtook Han Zhiyuan in front of him.

"Damn it!!" Luo Min exclaimed, "Why did you walk ahead of me?"

"We're all on the same side, so what difference does it make who comes first and who comes last?" Fang Lei said.

"It's different, I was here first."

Before the nine people even reached the counter, they almost came to blows over who would order the pastries first. In the end, Han Zhiyuan stepped forward and ordered two of each of the five types of pastries.

Fang Lei wanted to order a few more, but Han Zhiyuan glared at him and stopped him, saying, "Are you here to exchange technical information or to buy goods?"

In the end, he was only allowed to add one mutton and one beef dish to make a total of twelve.

Hearing them order so many dishes at once, Su Yun looked up and asked, "Are we ordering together?"

"Yes," Han Zhiyuan said, "we're here to participate in a youth pastry exchange program."

"Okay." Su Yun nodded and continued wrapping the pancakes.

Fang Lei waited two seconds, then couldn't help but ask, "Are you familiar with the Youth Pastry Exchange Conference?"

"I don't know."

"..."

Fang Lei felt that his question was a bit redundant.

People don't even know who they are, yet they were discussing in the group last night whether they should come over and help someone change the formula. Looking back now, it seems a bit presumptuous of them.

Jiang Haoran stood directly in front of the cutting board, and the closer he got, the clearer his vision became.

Su Yun had just picked up a piece of mutton filling. The dough was slightly thicker at the edges, but very thin in the middle.

He lifted his fingers upwards, and with only three tugs of his thumb, the opening was sealed perfectly. Then, he changed to another piece of chicken leg filling, and this time, the sealing technique was indeed different.

"The mutton patties and chicken leg patties aren't made with the same kind of dough, are they?" Jiang Haoran asked.

Su Yun's hands didn't stop moving. "No."

"The water-to-oil ratio is different too?"

"The fillings are all different, how can the dough be the same?" Su Yun said casually. "Using the same dough for everything may save time, but in the last batch, there will always be two unlucky ones."

Jiang Haoran was taken aback. This sentence was not profound at all, and even seemed like a nonsense. However, when they usually made products in large quantities, the first thing they considered was how to use a set of dough to accommodate more fillings.

As for the one or two that don't taste right, we can adjust the filling later. But Su Yun's thinking was completely reversed. The crust serves the filling. If one kind doesn't work, then make a new one. He never thought about making anyone the unlucky one.

"Go to the side to get your food, don't block the people behind you." Zhou Ye handed over a few brown paper bags.

The group then came to their senses and walked to the rest pavilion with the freshly baked pancakes in their arms.

Old Qin remained seated in his original spot. Upon seeing them return, he didn't ask what they had discovered, but simply raised his chin and said, "Try it first."

Twelve pancakes were placed on the table, and nine young pastry chefs gathered around at the same time. They had just said they would distribute them fairly, but when it came down to it, each one of them was faster than the last.

Fang Lei took a mutton pie first, and as soon as Luo Min reached out, he had already clutched the paper bag to his chest.

"Holy crap, didn't you say we'd try it together?" Luo Min was stunned.

"Let me take a look at the internal structure first," Fang Lei said.

"Then break it open."

"It's fresh out of the pan, it's piping hot." Fang Lei shook his head.

"Then blow on it for me."

Fang Lei pretended not to hear, lowered his head and took a bite. The sound of the pastry breaking apart was very soft, but the hot air inside suddenly burst out.

The lamb wasn't minced into a sticky paste; instead, it retained a slightly grainy texture. When you bite into it, the crispy crust cracks gently first, followed by the juices from the lamb and onions.

The cumin aroma is very direct, but it doesn't mask the flavor of the lamb itself.

More importantly, the crust catches the oil inside, so when you bite into it, the juice bursts out, but it doesn't leak out from the bottom when you hold it in your hand.

Fang Lei chewed a few times without saying anything. The people next to him were waiting for his analysis, but he lowered his head and took another big bite.

"How is it?" Han Zhiyuan asked.

"Wait a minute, bro, let me double-check that."

"You're almost halfway there with this one!"

Luo Min was too lazy to wait any longer, so she turned around and picked up a wild mushroom pastry.

She was least looking forward to this flavor, as wild mushrooms don't have a meaty aroma and tend to release water when incorporated into pastries.

If it's cooked too lightly, it tastes bland; if it's cooked too heavily, all that's left is the taste of sauce.

But when you bite into this pancake, the textures of several kinds of mushrooms are all preserved—some are crisp, some are soft, and one is cut into very small cubes that have soaked up all the broth.

The crust is thinner than that of a mutton pie, but the flaky layers are even more fluffy, so even without meat, you won't feel empty after taking a bite.

Luo Min glanced down at the cross-section, then gently pinched the seal. "Did he add something to the filling to absorb the juices?"

"It's not starch," Jiang Haoran said.

"It should be processed mushroom pieces." Luo Min took another small bite. "It tastes the same, but it retains moisture."

The two were still studying when a voice of dissatisfaction suddenly came from the side.

"Who took the brown sugar walnuts?"

"Weren't there two just now?"

"What's that in Old Han's hand?"

Han Zhiyuan quietly hid the paper bag behind his back. "I kept this for Teacher Qin."

Old Qin glanced at him and said, "I've already eaten."

Han Zhiyuan: "......."

Why is this old man undermining us?

The last brown sugar walnut cake ended up in Jiang Haoran's hands.

He didn't rush to eat it; he first broke off a small piece from the edge.

The outer layer of the crust is thin and brittle, but you can clearly see the flaky layers inside. The seal is obviously thicker than other parts, but when you bite into it, it doesn't form a hard, dense lump.

The fold I saw through the video last night wasn't just to prevent the brown sugar from leaking out.

It both prevents the sugar filling from flowing out when heated and leaves some space inside, so that the brown sugar melts without breaking the whole cake.

Jiang Haoran took a bite, and the sweetness of brown sugar came out first, followed by the aroma of roasted walnuts.

The filling was hot, but not cloyingly sweet, and the crust didn't soften because the sugar and oil had seeped in.

He slowly swallowed the bite, and suddenly remembered the plates of lotus flower pastries he had put in the refrigerator yesterday.

To ensure that each petal opened to the same size, he measured the dough with a ruler, weighed the filling, and even marked the places where he would cut the dough.

The final product was indeed very beautiful.

But when it comes to which layer of pastry is for the red bean paste and which petal is for the flavor, he himself can't say for sure.

"What did you taste?" Old Qin asked.