(Short essay)
Poor women always daydream about the appearance of a man who will be devoted to them forever. The illusion in fairy tales has long been imbued with a hazy undertone in their hearts.
Listening to the man's lingering words of love in his ear, he began to yearn for unwavering love.
As everyone knows, people's hearts are changeable.
I am A Yuan, I will appear when the heart of true love dissipates.
I love this shitty arcade, it's so much fun.
I'm still searching for the answer to the question where all stories begin - where did I come from?
Intention: Explosive and violent scumbag