share time: 2025-10-14 06:01:36
Lin Chuan, the neighborhood’s “wok-flipping legend” at the alley stir-fry stall, can toss a wok so steady not a single oil splatter hits his collar. But no one knows: every night after closing, anonymous letters are slipped under his stall—pledges of loyalty from underground factions that secretly hail him as the “Dark Emperor.” Until one day, a former guard bursts in with knife wounds, knocking over his soy sauce jar, yelling, “Master, someone’s trying to destroy your shadow empire!” Lin Chuan freezes mid-wipe of the wok, slams his spatula on the counter—his cufflink, a hidden Dark Emperor token, glints coldly: “Eat a spicy stir-fry first to fill your stomach. I’ll go tear down those bastards’ lair.”
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