Don't Call Me a Policeman, Call Me a Chef

Ye Liangchen, who ranked last in the police academy, was sent to the police station to hang out. One day when he was putting on makeup to investigate and set up a stall, he complained that the fried rice on the roadside was too unpalatable, and suddenly something sounded in his head—— [Detected the host's ultimate pursuit of delicious food, the Chinese God of Cooking system is being bound...] Ye Liangchen:? ? ? I'm a policeman, but you don't give me a crime-solving system, but give me the God of Cooking system? What, you want me to cross the border? System: [Diners' Emotional Perception] [Eye for Tracing Ingredients] [Accurate Taste Analysis] - On the surface, it is cooking, but in fact, it is all investigation assistance. OK. Since then, there has been a fried rice stall in Nandou Market. The name is "Peace Hotel". The fried rice was so delicious that the thieving gang came to line up every day and he served it in a pot. The singing was so beautiful that the underworld gangster cried when he heard it and said he wanted to wash his hands in a golden basin. He conquered three younger brothers: a market tyrant, a gangster orphan, and a taxi driver—all of whom became police special agents. People in the world of martial arts call him: the underworld singer. From the second-level police officer to the first-level police supervisor, from Nandou Market to the Golden Triangle, from a waste rejected by the family to the light of three generations of heroes. He worked hard for twenty years and built a Heping Restaurant Group, all of which were donated to the Public Security Heroes Foundation. He handed the last bowl of fried rice to the new policeman: "Taste it, this is the taste of Nandou Market." ——The policeman is me, and the chef is also me. ——The underworld calls me brother, and justice calls me by my name.