The faces of those who died of thirst and cold were "smiling faces"—their muscles stiffened, their upper lips pursed upwards, smiling innocently and proudly. Even amidst this fleeting existence, they listened with delight:
"Woo-ya-sniff-a"
In the stillness of the night, the sound of the night watchman's drum came from the distant and unfathomable ancient times, and was almost inaudible.
Suddenly, a lost cat appeared in the sky, black and without a single stray hair. It stumbled upon her in a panic. It stared at her with strange eyes, unsure whether she was alive or dead, and what she was like. In a moment of panic, it leaped over her and ran north at full speed.
It's like being chased by a naughty little girl.
Facing north,
Pointing to
Yonghe Temple...