On the shores of the South Sea, a white figure races on for a thousand years, crossing the mountains and rivers of the primordial world with each step spanning a hundred million li. Its body is pure white, auspicious signs swirling around it, with black-tipped antlers and a lion's tail. Deep in the mountains, waterfalls thunder, and the laws of the world are entirely different. Tired from running, it wants to rest and find a thatched hut, only to realize it has charged straight into the human world. Why are mortal houses so short?
