Meet the devil
Half of July, the Hungry Ghost Festival.
There are few stars in the dark sky, even a full moon is floating alone in the clouds, floating up and down. The pungent smell spreads far away from the street market, passing through the wind and surrounding the walls, piercing people's sense of smell everywhere. It was an ordinary behavior of two or three piles of mourners not far apart. Incense, candles, paper money and tributes were burned into the thirsty atmosphere of a memory.
Conception: