On New Year's Eve, a burst of firecrackers crackled open the frozen winter air. The door of the dilapidated temple in the east of Xiaoli Village creaked and was pushed open by the gatekeeper Laotou Li. Several grinning statues were waiting to enjoy the incense that was available for the few times a year. . .
In the temple and in front of the hall, one after another once kind faces on the futons are praying for good luck in the coming year and looking forward to good days; behind the statue of the dying Luo Maitian, his eyes are red and his lower lip is blue and white. Hate it? How can you not hate it! A deep sense of powerlessness came over him, and Mai Tian raised his head and let two lines of clear tears fall down his temples. "This room is full of gods and Buddhas. If you really exist, why can't you see the filth in this world! If the law of heaven exists, why don't you restore my innocence!"
