In the turbulent times of war, two people who make a living by writing and carving are walking on completely opposite paths.
Chen Shaotang forged family tree inscriptions for the powerful warlords, whitewashing his glory and earning a fortune.
Shen Huaiqing carved epitaphs for the poor and unknown, recording the truth without taking any money.
A night rain, a brand new tomb, and an unknown child's corpse made the two people suddenly meet in a desolate mass grave.
After that, the forged identity certificates quietly flowed to those in need of shelter; hot messages began to be hidden under the cold stone tablets.
The suspicion of those in power followed closely. In the end, the employer dragged the bloody Shen Huaiqing to Chen Shaotang and handed over the carving knife with a smile:
"Mr. Chen, I heard that the inscription on the 'traitor' was written by you yourself, so that it is most consistent with the name and reality?"
Can lies create a monument to truth? In the cracks of history, who will remember those stories that have not been written?
Intent: In an era when lies are cast into monuments, recording the truth has become the most dangerous form of resistance. There are always some nameless people who use themselves as monuments, carving traces that cannot be tampered with.