Inside a sterile cloning facility, a Jiangshi in lacquered Qing official robes hovers on one foot, sleeve embroidery fluttering. He steadies a battered metal battery in his left hand and connects a slender cable to a charging pad embedded in a chrome bench, while a compact smartphone rests in his other hand, its face glow illuminating his pallid, jade-hued skin and sharp fangs. A talisman on his forehead glints under the blue-white light. Behind him, frosted cloning tanks breathe pale mist; glass, racks, and dangling tubes reflect the clinical light. The polished floor ripples with reflections of sterilized hardware and soft bioluminescent fluid. The square frame feels balanced: tanks and benches echo on both sides, the Jiangshi centralized along a vertical axis, depth receding into a dim corridor that hums with quiet energy

The image shows a woman in a blue kimono walking through a factory, holding a cell phone in her hand. On either side of her are benches, and in the background there are machines and lights attached to the ceiling.