In my dream, I stumbled into a matrilineal clan of the Li people in Qiongzhong, Hainan in China.

That night, the moon hung bright in the sky. The summit of Limu Mountain appeared as if dusted with snow, covered in frost. Between the towering, silent mountains, a massive bonfire blazed. People dressed in traditional Li costumes gathered around the fire, their elongated shadows projected onto the rock walls, swaying rhythmically with the flames. Their slender bodies didn't look human-like. I stood aside, as if an invisible observer, transparent and detached from their world, witnessing their mournful chants, their melodies enigmatic and ancient