Without fear of the source, circling and turning; but hoping for ultimate peace, to rest in the earth.

Those ashes, having endured both winter and spring;

These days, they've been claimed one by one…

Those bags containing the ashes;

Quietly, lying in the cold, small cells;

Along the cold, New Year's Eve, the vernal equinox, and the beginning of spring, they jostled together;

Now, they are being abbreviated and compiled into a series of digital codes;

Those grieving relatives suffering from anxiety or depression;

Right now, they have to reopen the painfully difficult wounds;

——Find identification cards, household registration books…

And thatMedical Death Certificatewith its lid pried open;

Experiencing a violent, agonizing search and identification;

Only then can you recognize these cold ash bags;

——This 'pilgrimage' meeting across life and death,

Makes it so difficult to wait and so much trouble to deal with;

Then, carefully place the ashes in a box, wrap them in silk, and hold them warmly in your arms.

…Leaving the mortuary with tears or silent departure… then taking one step after another towards the cemetery…

As darkness falls, you can't take 'you' home, so you have to register 'you' instead;

Today in Jiangcheng Three Towns, the temperature is only 4-5 degrees Celsius, a rare late-spring cold. We're all afraid of the cold;

But here it's a cemetery, your final stop in life;

One last appointment and registration, sorting…

…

Ah Life is so short; and this late spring is so long!

We:

Don't fear the twists and turns;

May we finally find peace in the earth.