The Long Lamp Shines

The summer of 1986 was the hottest decade had ever seen in Zhangjia Tower. Even in such oppressive heat, many of the village’s laborers still braved the sun to work in the neighboring town.

That town was called Liulianli, an advanced and prosperous place, bustling in stark contrast to the surrounding villages.

That particular day was the most unbearable of the summer. Whether it was the Celestial Elder's medicine furnace overturning, or some divine retribution for the wicked, no one could say.

At dusk, clusters of men returned home one after another, tool bags slung across their shoulders.

Zhang Chuyang walked along the western edge of the village, face smeared with black dust, carrying a small sack of rice he’d brought back from Liulianli. Anyone who didn't know better might have guessed he’d just come up from a coal mine.

His exhausted face lit up with a smile—this day’s work would feed his family for half a month.

It was then that a thick mist began to spread across the northeastern sky. Within the fog, something dark and immense rolled and twisted, like a great black dragon coiling in the heavens.

Zhang Chuyang stared, uneasy. He’d always been able to see things others could not, but he’d never witnessed anything like this. Unease gnawed at him—a great event was surely coming—so he quickened his pace toward home.

By the time he reached his own gate, night had fallen completely. He saw the glow of light from inside and hurried to set down his things.

Scooping water from the large vat in the yard, he washe