On the bank of the River Styx, Po Meng was guarding her small stall, with a stove, a pot, a table and a chair.
Waiting for the departed souls to cross the Naihe Bridge and walk to her stall.
Mrs. Meng always smiles lightly and invites visitors to sit down. After drinking a bowl of hot soup, she forgets her past and walks on the boundless road of Huangquan.
No more ties to this life.
Today, after Meng Po set up her stall, the first figure she saw was a young girl.
Intent: The tragic and joyful lives of several ordinary women, when told by others, actually become stories as well.