My name is Ling Ling, and I followed my adoptive father, Old Man Zhang, into Taoism. When I was in danger in the Qinling Mountains when I was thirteen, he protected me from the blood and left scars. The rice dumplings are fighting over water in the South China Sea, and the jade pendants of Xiaohushe protect each other. Today I am guarding the small courtyard in Kunming, and the past has become a story about coaxing children.
