After a rainy night, you can always hear sparse sounds. Jiang Yuting was walking on his usual way home, surrounded by silence. "I heard that the family in 308 was killed and only one child survived." "Who is that child?" "It seems to be called... Yu Shenghuan." The discussion was especially obvious on this road. The speaker has no intention, but the listener has intention. I wandered to the door of my house, and as expected, there was a group of people standing at the door. "Is this Mr. Jiang Yuting? I'm sorry to disturb you. We have something to ask you to talk about." "About Yu Shenghuan?" "..." "Let's go." At this point, the story begins...
Intention:.