“The village Tudi Gong keeps four small shrines at the edge of the fields — dark wood tablets, no characters, swept clean, offered to. Asked whose they are, the villagers smile the particular smile of people who have agreed, without ever agreeing, not to say. The old earth god sweeps the steps. He does not ask either. He was told once. He no longer remembers being told.”
Four shrines in one village, four blank tablets, and the villagers won't say who they're for.



