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The world of mortals is meant to be parted, so why should we meet again in this life? Please look at the flashy things for a moment. After a hundred years of wind and rain, everything will come to an end. There is always someone who has to laugh for a moment, but nothing can win a reputation for a long time. Who am I talking about today? I have to remember the kindness of the rivers and lakes. Sun Hao, a seemingly ordinary old man in a mountain village, has an unknown secret. On Fuyun Mountain, he practiced all his life, not to become an immortal, but to repay the debt of the half bowl of millet. The rivers and lakes at the foot of the mountain and the rolling dust have nothing to do with him. His world is only the small village beside Lanshui River.

Life is like a dream.

The soul of Xuan Zhao, a stray cat who died of starvation, was reborn in the body of Lang, a young dropout who died of illness. When it made up its mind to make up for each other's regrets, a game of cultivating immortals quietly invaded reality...

Washed away by the wind and drifting sand, it has been ups and downs for hundreds of years. As time goes by, flowers bloom and butterflies bloom, for whom can the beauty be as beautiful as it is? I hate the long song, three or two places, dusk sun and spring snow. I know you, I should be on good terms with you last night and tomorrow. The sky is beyond the clouds, and the slanting light is rolling back. If you can't keep it, it will always be the moon in the water. What's the use of the palace in the sky? A stranger in the water, parting from others.

Wu Siya wanders around the corners of the city and at dusk. His "scavenging" is not only survival, but also resistance to "forgetting". By chance, he touched an old abandoned music box and accidentally "saw" a memory that was not his own: the smiling face and broken cries of a little girl in the candlelight of her birthday. This strange ability has since awakened, and the discarded objects have become the carrier of memory. He picked up a discarded teddy bear and felt the despair of an unemployed father and his deep love for his daughter; he picked up a faded hairpin and witnessed a teenage relationship that was forced to separate due to illness; he picked up a torn IOU and glimpsed the bitterness of two friends who turned against each other over money. These memory fragments, like scattered puzzle pieces, reflect the folds and shadows behind the bustling curtain of the city - material embarrassment, emotional alienation, the fall of dreams, and the impermanence of life and death. While picking up, Wu Siya passively became a "container" for countless joys and sorrows. He is not a savior, he can only treat these memories with silent respect, and sometimes feels heavy because of his inability to change

I am a salesman who walks around the streets. Over the years, I have traveled to various places and met all kinds of people. Unfortunately, I have missed them all. Later, I thought that those I missed may not belong to me in the first place. I'm still waiting for the next person on the road... Suffering is too long, all in the old age and illness, the road ahead is tortuous, never separated from joys and sorrows. Life is too short, there is no end to it, and the world of mortals is endless. But taking that extra step can save a lost soul.

Mistaken smoke The flowing grazing sparkles with false electricity, and the mirage robs the sea of smoke. Withered and prosperous, a lantern faded away. The ruined magpies are buried in barren moss, and the rotten pillars drag blood streamers. Why is it warm in the embers? Why is it so cold in the dream? Why do we make mistakes every time we meet? Why avoid being entangled? Throwing the mirror will split the sky, and the floating debris will hold the old thread!

Young scholar Lin Feng embarked on an academic investigation trip because of his mentor's deep concern about the endangered chieftain culture in the Bachu area. In Lingxi Town (an ancient town that integrates Tujia, Miao, Han and other ethnic cultures) deep in the Wuling Mountains, he was immersed in the folk atmosphere full of mythology: people told the stories of the White Tiger Linjun, Nuo Gong and Nuo Mother, the Meishan Hunting God, and the Mountain Ghost Yunniang. These legends are permeated in the patterns of brocade, the masks of Nuo opera, and ancient folk songs.

In the Forgotten River, beside the Sansheng Stone, and next to the Naihe Bridge, I hate resentment and sorrow in my past and present lives. When I drink this soup, I will forget them all, and will not let sorrow fetter me into reincarnation. The marriage is weak, the thread of lovesickness is on the thread, and the wish tree has a younger generation. I am happy and admiring. It is appropriate to tie this rope. Remember them all, just for the sake of friendship and affection.