The Journey of an Ou

“Holding a steamed bun in my hands… There's not a drop of oil in the vegetables…”,Three men in leather jackets, reeking of alcohol, burst into the general store. The one in the front, with green hair and a mohawk, surveyed the shop, spitting out his toothpick.,Old Jack instinctively shielded his head, then roared when he saw what had happened: "Heather! You've wrecked my shipping container again! And the old shop door!"。