Ruyue Le is a resident singer who is just waiting to die.
No ambition, no ambition, no money.
Only that face can still be seen.
Thanks to that face, she would not have to live on the streets.
Sing, film, and buy some self-propelled millet.
The days were going on in such a hazy way, but she never thought that someone would suddenly send her a private message online.
"Hello, are the photos on the homepage homemade? Are they produced?"
She stared at the words in deep thought for a while, and looked over and over at a photo she sent casually.
If you take the photo yourself, it's considered homemade, right?
Being impoverished, her attention quickly turned away from the strange words and landed on the last two words, and her hands tentatively typed in a few numbers.
"123."
"Is it actually Xiaole's birthday to bid? It's okay. Thank you for the good price."
The next second a transfer of 1.23 Million yen with an additional address was sent.
She clicked the button blankly, staring at the nickname "h" and sighing for a while.
Tokyoites are indeed rich.
She non-stop used H's money to buy a beautiful cotton doll that she promoted, and even posted a rare update.
On the other side of the network, h fell into a long silence as he looked at the familiar background of the living room on his mobile phone and his face printed on the cotton doll.
Intention: There will always be people rushing to the mountains and seas to come for you
