The mist in Manchuria swayed nonsensically in the air.
In the box, Chang Yuan narrowed his eyes slightly and looked at the man in front of him.
The bridge of the nose is pretty, the thin lips are slightly pursed, and there is a small mole next to the mouth.
He was bent over, holding the plate between his fingers.
"How old are you? Are you an adult?" Chang Yuan said in a lazy voice, tilting his head.
"This year."
Intention: People must learn to persevere