On the afternoon of September 21st, a moderate rain fell. The roads in Lüliang were rugged and difficult to navigate, with the density of large trucks ten times that of ordinary areas. These overloaded coal-hauling trucks had crushed the roads of Lüliang, mixing with the filthy rainwater to form a muddy sludge. We could only weave through the gaps between the trucks, humbly and perilously, until we turned onto a mountain path. Winding our way up, we arrived at the secluded and empty Anguo Temple deep in the mountains. The tranquil ancient temple bore no relation to the dirty, noisy, and dangerous world outside.