On one of the Mountain Lord's shoulders, a girl watched a massive plaque. As it drifted into the West River, she, having already transformed into a dark-grey Big Bird, then perched on his other shoulder.
An ancient ballad, sung from the beak of the Big Bird, its melody dating back at least a thousand years, slowly spread through the water.
The Mountain Lord returned once more above the King Guilong Temple, quietly floating in the water and gazing down at the temple that had collapsed by half.
