The sandstorm in Dunhuang always comes earlier than the alarm clock. Lin Yan tightly wrapped the collar of his assault jacket and squatted in front of the mural in Cave 320 of the Mogao Grottoes. The brush on his fingertips was dipped in a special adhesive and he was repairing a damaged robe of Feitian of the Tang Dynasty. The temperature in the cave was constant at 18°C, but he was still sweating lightly on the back of his neck - not because he was tired, but because the mural revealed an indescribable weirdness.
