Never changing history, just blending into it. In Henan in 1920, the late autumn rain, with its biting chill, hit crazily on the roof of the dilapidated mountain temple outside Liujiaji. Inside the temple, there were dense cobwebs, and the statues had long been mutilated. Only a few rays of weak moonlight filtered through the broken window lattice, casting mottled light and shadow on the dusty ground.
