Vientiane Glazed

If your soul were a mirror, broken into millions of pieces and scattered in the dust of thousands of years - what would you do? Are you going to let the fragments gather dust and forget all about the past? Or should you lean over and pick up every sharp piece of memory, even if your hands are bleeding from cuts, to piece together a complete self in the palm of your hand? He chose the latter. Thus, the wars of the late Sui Dynasty, the prosperity of the Tang Dynasty, the dreams of Bianjing, the lonely shadow on the palace wall... Countless "others" woke up at the same time in the faults of history. The general, the wealthy businessman, the powerful official, the beggar, the medical woman... Each one is him, and each one is not him. His soul became a glass full of cracks but with flowing brilliance, reflecting all things in the world. But this is not a story about becoming. This is a thousand-year question about "who am I". When the last fragment returns to its place and the glass is complete, what is reflected is you and me, all living beings, every lonely and brave soul who is still trying to see his own appearance clearly in the torrent of fate.