Hu Hu — Bu Wu. Ye Cha Long Mie

The insects were silent. The wind held its breath.

The moment he read them, the world folded . The clearing became a tea house—ancient, vast, its ceiling lost in shadow. At a long table sat : seven figures in cracked porcelain masks, their bodies impossibly long and jointed like praying mantises. They did not move. They twitched . hu hu bu wu. ye cha long mie

This is a story about the strange, whispered phrase: The insects were silent