The dull rhythm of life,
the peaceful rural atmosphere of the Republic of China,
the earthy invective,
the notes with the fragrance of the Earth.
This was its back, the back of the three villages, and once you walked a few steps to the front, you would be scared to death by its face.
Every detail here was like a crack, drops of blood gurgled out of the crack, and then drowned people, suffocating people.
A terrifying dark cloud hung over the village, like a stage play. Each character seemed to be wearing a meaningful mask.
The moon hung in the sky
But the light on the ground was uneven and pale. It was as if an unqualified lighting master had adjusted the wrong angle, making everything very chaotic.
Someone was sleeping,
someone was cooking,
someone was fetching water,
someone was cursing,
someone was laughing,
someone was crying.
