My name is Yangji, the saint of the snowfield.
Tomorrow morning, I will be sacrificed to the sky. They said that when she reaches her age, the saint will be sent to the highest mountain top to make sacrifices to the gods.
The offering of the body as a tribute.
I only found out about this after I became a saint and lived in the temple.
What saints and gods are, they are all lies told by people.
The moonlight tonight is as bright as that day. I am still waiting for a cloud, but I still haven't arrived. The moonlight is still so bright, shining on my bed - the bed that used to be the bed of Sister Dolma.
I seemed to see Sister Dolma again. She was still so beautiful and her smile was so gentle.
I told her that I regretted it. I missed my grandma, dad, sister, and the little lamb.
It was so cold in the temple, not as warm as the yak felt made by grandma.
I have never played that sacred drum again. I have protected it well and it has not even fallen into dust.
Sister, why did you say sorry back then?
Sister, will you forgive Yang Ji?
Sister, are you here to take Yang Ji home?
Concept: I don't know how to write the concept. The article is not long and everyone will know it after reading it.