[ comparing it to a tilled field makes him think back 500 years ago, for a fleeting moment. but he stops at the hole and looks into it as he listens to jing yuan. ]

Not quite deep enough to become a grave, but that offers very little comfort in the face of having no answers. I doubt these machines can communicate - perhaps they could, once, but the state of this place is so decayed that I doubt it now.

Such odds against the idyllic scenery on the rest of the train ride. Are these the bones that this "slice" of Heaven was built upon?