The Canola Fairy

Across the flat Yunan Plain, thousand-year-old rapeseed fields grow wildly without end, their layers enveloping fifty acres of lifeless graves, as if guarding something, or perhaps imprisoning it.

In this graveyard lie all the dead from the surrounding villages, spanning a thousand years.

The rapeseed flowers never fade. By day, their golden glow glares beneath the sun; by night, the yellow blossoms flicker with a faint, cold fire, exuding an indescribable eeriness...