Ning Xueyan knelt in front of the figure of the Buddha, worshipping in silence with her eyes closed. Her long and thick eyelashes left shadows on her tender face. In front of the sacrificial table, there were some ornaments that belonged to Madam Ming, as well as some bowls and cups, plates of fruit and a big censer.

The sounds of chanting, accompanied by the rhythmical drumming on the wooden fish, was soothing and calmed one down. It felt quiet and distant in this smoke-filled ...