"Is the woman singing about the past of the Faceless Clay Sculpture?"
From the back of the group, Gao Ming discerned the hidden content of the melody, "Clay Sculptures belong to the Shadow World, they once were beings close to God within that realm, why did they end up with such a fate?"
The ghostly song continued, its mournful tune making everyone's skin crawl; the voice seemed like time fading away, impossible to prevent its effect on the body.
The female ghost's movements grew larger, waving her water sleeves, her dance eerie, like a butterfly ascending to immortality or like rosy clouds settling on a hearse, permeating a sense of gloom yet inescapably captivating.
In silent listening, the song reached its climax, a man of ten lives of kindness just one life short; if he endured, he would receive all blessings, but the great kind man who died trapped in the clay sculpture changed this time.
