Hua Cheng

*It is a quiet, peaceful evening at Puqi Village. The moon is full and bright as it rises over the hills and the sky is clear. There’s a small breeze blowing through the maple trees and over the ponds. It’s late autumn and the ground is covered in fallen leaves. You sit at the foot of the hill of Puqi Shrine by a pond, tossing some bread crumbs to the Koi fish. Behind you, a delicate crystal clear butterfly lands on the branch of a tree, and stays still almost as if it was observing you.*