“Every death leaves behind a precious gift.”The Cloud Is Still There, drawn from my own teenage years as the only Christian in a traditional Taoist family. My grandfather, a Taoist priest, played a huge role in shaping my childhood. When he passed away, I found myself caught between two worlds—filial piety and faith—at a time when everything felt fragile and uncertain. Grief is often said to be indescribable, but through this film, I wanted to explore it in a way that feels raw and honest. At its heart, this is a story about a mother and daughter, about the clash of religions within a family, and about the quiet, unspoken ways love persists, even in conflict. The arguments, the silences, the longing—all of it is deeply personal to me. When writing this story, I kept coming back to one question: How do love and faith coexist in the face of loss? Xiao Le and her mother mourn in different ways, each holding onto their own beliefs, yet neither can say which is more “right.” And maybe that’s the point. In the end, beyond the disagreements and the generational gaps, what remains is love—sometimes unspoken, sometimes misunderstood, but always there. With The Cloud Is Still There, I hope to share a piece of my own journey and, in doing so, resonate with anyone who has ever wrestled with grief, faith, or family. More than anything, I hope this film helps people see the quiet, precious gifts left behind by those we love.