Change Her Factory Settings

On a rainy night, she huddled next to the trash can in the back alley of a convenience store, and was picked up by a loser homebody who couldn't even pay the rent. Everyone only regards her as a commodity with a clearly marked price, and they are calculating whether it is cost-effective to raise her. Only he would care whether she had dried her hair, secretly add two braised eggs to her rice, and kneel down with red eyes to say sorry to her when she subconsciously begged for mercy. What he wanted to do was never to save her from a condescending position, but to accompany her, one stroke at a time, to change her factory settings that had been programmed to death.