"Three thousand years of cultivation are but a child's dream."
A rusty copper wheel is buried at the bottom of a dry well in Qinghe Village.
What is reflected in the well water is not the young man's face, but the overlapping afterimages of 360 parallel times and spaces - some people hold swords and become saints, some people become demons and ghosts, some people kneel in front of the star wheel and carve out their hearts... And the five-year-old child lying on the platform of the well is carving crooked handwriting with a wooden knife:
"I want to go home."
