I'm just telling a man's story about supernatural powers, reincarnation, spells, and beliefs. In fact, we have never left these. The so-called mysterious phenomenon is like the faint smell of burning sycamore leaves in the autumn air, or the smell of fireworks in winter. I have long been accustomed to it. It seems like it wouldn't be called life without it.
Huang Yang, the protagonist of the story, is just one of all living beings. Like all ordinary people, he is running for life and experiencing the bitterness and small happiness of being in a foreign place. Whether it's a nightmare, a hallucination or a ghost in bed, one day the dust will settle, the flowers will bloom and fall, and the city will still forget you.