Qiluo

The sky in late autumn is as blue as a wash, and a few white clouds pass leisurely, slowly changing their shapes with the cold autumn wind. In the silent Buddhist hall, the kind-hearted old woman looked at the girl next to her who had just celebrated her sixteenth birthday, and said softly: "Go and put the incense sticks on your mother, and then carefully pack the tablet. It seems we must leave today." This novel and its characters are purely fictitious. Any similarity is purely coincidental and should not be imitated.