In the first month of 1945, the head of the Japanese Special Higher Education Course personally led a team and surrounded the entire Spring Roll Street. Zhou Heng was putting spring roll skins into the oil pan when the traitor leader kicked the stall over and put the muzzle of his gun at the back of his head: "Boss Zhou, Taijun suspects that you have a radio operator hiding here. If you can't find it today, you will all die." Oil splashed on Zhou Heng's wrists, and he dusted his face. Fan, smiled - "Taijun, don't worry, I have been frying spring rolls for 20 years, and I know how to cook them." Before he finished speaking, he shook his wrist lightly, and threw a handful of crushed flour into the eyes of the Japanese. Taking advantage of the chaos, he kicked the oil pan over and poured boiling oil on the traitor who was loading the bullet. When the super high school section chief wiped the grease off his face and raised his gun, Zhou Hengren had disappeared, leaving a plate of freshly baked spring rolls on the chopping board - the Morse code on the table happened to be the address of their next contact point. The most dangerous agents are hidden in the breakfast stalls you pass by every day; and the orders that can subvert the war situation are wrapped in that crispy spring roll. People who rewrite history do not deserve to carry guns.
