There is a weirdo in Qingshui Town named Li Dashao.
While others practice martial arts, he cooks, while others seize treasures and open a shop. The whole world was involved, and he was the only one left lying flat. In his ancestral kitchen, there are knives that can kill demons, pots that cannot be broken, and spatulas that can mess with people's minds. And his biggest worry is that there was too much salt in the braised pork today.
The sword immortal ate his egg fried rice and his heart was broken. The devil drank his soup and washed his hands in the golden basin. The boss of Qingcheng stayed in the shop and refused to leave because of a plate of saliva chicken. The female catcher from Liumen came to investigate the case, but ended up washing dishes to the point where she didn't want to go back to the capital.
Li Dashao looked at the long line of Jianghu bosses lining up in front of the store and fell into deep thought: "I just want to make a good stir-fry, why did I become a martial arts legend?"
Until one day, he found a yellowed recipe book among his grandfather's belongings, with a line of small words written on the back - "I missed half the money again today. It's time for Dad Shao to learn to tie his own shoelaces. I don't know if the pickles at home have been finished."
It turns out that the old man who was hunted by the world had used the same pot to refine the elixir for killing people and to stew the soup to save people. And what he wants to do is not to take revenge, but to continue to stew the pot of soup for his grandfather.
