Qinghong Youqi

There is no snow in Hongchuan. In this old Tongguo town occupied by the Republic of China, the sky is always hung with a layer of dark red stained by thick smoke and rust. This is the fault zone of civilization. Poverty is about to extinguish the last fire, and the people of the same country are huddled like ants in the ruins called "ghettos", relying on each other to survive. Despair is not an emotion, but a nutrient - it nourishes "ghosts". Ghosts don't speak, they are aberrations of pain and power. They have the ability to tear apart reality, but they will moan forever in the quagmire of memory. Hongchuan, Hongchuan, how much can you find this time?