This is an unfinished painting.
The paper turns yellow and the ink color fades. But this painting seems to have traveled through time and space, spanning two hundred years of time and space, connecting Gongsun Mo who lived two hundred years ago with Zheng Xiu two hundred years later.
Zheng Xiu's fingers were trembling as he carefully took the painting from Gongsun Dao's hand.
He lightly traced his fingertips across the paper.
Feel the texture of the paper and the mottled aging on it.
In an instant, Zheng Xiu's mind was filled with questions.
There seemed to be a voice in his heart that kept shouting: Impossible.
Zheng Xiu was very sure that Gongsun Mo and he were not the same person. He is definitely not Gongsun Mo, let alone some bloody past and present life. Gongsun Mo is Gongsun Mo, and he is who he is.
But this "unfinished painting" left behind by Gongsun Mo when he returned to the West a hundred years ago, the woman with tied hair who didn't have time to remove her eyes, ears, mouth and nose was clearly painted for him to see.
The blanks above were left for him to fill.
"I forgot someone."
Sometimes the most memorable thing about a person that remains in your memory is not that person's appearance. Sometimes what is deeply imprinted in my heart and remembered in my mind may be just a familiar scent of perfume, a familiar back figure, a paradoxical word, an object forgotten in a corner, an inconspicuous but surprising item. The little things that make people smile.
Zheng Xiu couldn't remember, or who that person was. But since he came to this world, with both parents, there is always such an inadvertent moment, a little touch, that makes Zheng Xiu stop everything he is doing no matter what, rack his brains, and think about that flash of inspiration. , pondering hard about what he had forgotten.
Even in the end, I can't think of it. The feeling of loss will deepen bit by bit, accumulate bit by bit, until the solid prison is broken, and Zheng Xiu comes here, to Richan Valley, to Longmen Inn, holding This unfinished painting.
"It's a weird thing!"
Zheng Xiu, who had been silent for a long time, suddenly woke up while holding Gongsun Mo's century-old painting in his hand.
Because of strange things, because of doorways, because of... strange people.
Strangers are the biggest "odd numbers" in this world!
No matter how incredible this idea was, Zheng Xiu found it unbelievable. But after eliminating all impossibilities, the answer that is left is his only answer.
"After a hundred twists and turns, we reached the end..."
Gongsun Mo reached the end of the doorway.
He pushed open the last door.
Behind the door, he saw today and Zheng Xiu's memory.
The weird thing is like a kind of "intermediary" that cannot be explained by common sense, connecting two people who also have the [Painter] weird thing across time and space. Gongsun Mo must have seen something in the last door in the doorway that made him leave this unfinished painting a hundred years ago to Zheng Xiu who was also following the path of [painter].
Zheng Xiu was silent, his eyes getting brighter and brighter.
Gongsun Dao smiled slightly, drank a small glass of wine, closed the door of the inn, and hung a sign on the door - closed today.
He went inside and took out a dusty box from under the bed. Opening the box, the items inside looked old, but were extremely well preserved. It is a set of Four Treasures of the Study with great charm.
"This is the last relic that Gongsun Mo left to our family when he was in Richan Valley. Brother, don't look at us like that. I'm not giving it to you. This set of relics is already valuable. You can borrow it at most. You use it."
Gongsun Dao immediately pulled up a square table and set up the stools. He carefully placed the four treasures of the study on the table, took a shiny black ink stick with a seal, dipped it in water, and polished the ink for Zheng Xiu with unfamiliar techniques.
While studying the ink, Gongsun Dao looked more and more excited and muttered:
"I never expected that this painting has been passed down in our family for five generations. Today, our generation is finally lucky enough to see it completed!"
Zheng Xiu spread the unfinished painting on the table.
In his hand, he held the paintbrush Gongsun Mo left behind.
Close your eyes and remain motionless.
Not long after, exclamations came from outside.
Qing Shisan and Yue Linglong heard the sound and ran out of the inn, their expressions changed dramatically.
I don't know when, the sky was filled with seven-color glow.
The seven-colored rays of light were like layers of gauze curtains, revealing red and black cracks as they swung.
In the crack, there is a faint ink-colored light and shadow overflowing, and green mountains and green water appear for a while, and rare and exotic animals walk through the air for a while.
All kinds of illusions overflowed from the cracks, but before they could solidify, they turned into rays of light and dissipated in the blink of an eye.
The seven-color glow circulates and changes like this.
Such a magnificent sight caused businessmen and local people to stop and marvel.
Qing Shisan stared straight at the crack in the glow. He stretched his neck and stretched his head toward the sky little by little. His eyes were blurred, full of desire.
"Red lotus root."
Qing Shisan murmured to himself, and smiled as he watched. He looked back at Yue Linglong, whose face was filled with tears. He felt guilty and couldn't help but ask: "Madam, why are you crying?"
Yue Linglong shook her head gently, with mixed feelings. After a while, she wiped away her tears, and a big stone fell to her heart. She responded with a smile, full of relief: "No wonder I always dream about him these years."
"Even though I have never met him, I still dream about him. I remember his face, his voice, his insults to me, and his cold gaze."
"But somehow, the more I have these strange dreams, the more I can't forget him. I am always curious about who the person who always appears in my dreams is."
"Until my father told me that when he was a child, he took over a marriage for my concubine. She was Zheng Haoran's son. His name was Zheng Xiu."
"There are countless strange things in the world. Each of these dreams cannot be speculated with common sense."
"I originally thought that this was a kind of past and present life, this was fate, and it was fate."
Yue Linglong smiled brightly, but the sorrow in her heart was like swallowing medicine. She knew it was all in her heart. She closed her eyes: "It turns out that from the beginning, I should accompany him all his life, listen to his joys and sorrows, and be with him." The one with gray hair,"
"not me."
…
In the inn.
Gongsun Dao, who was overjoyed that the long-cherished wish of his ancestors had been fulfilled, looked at the motionless back of the guest not far away and was about to step forward to take a pat and remind him that it was time to write.
Unexpectedly, before he could step forward, his feet became weak and he fell to the side. A gentle purr soon followed.
Zheng Xiu fell into a state of extreme concentration. He looked at the beautiful figure on the yellow scroll and the blank "face". He didn't even know that Gongsun Dao, who was in the same room, had fallen asleep.
Zheng Xiu wanted to bite his finger and draw blood, but when he put his finger to his mouth, Zheng Xiu paused.
"It shouldn't be like this."
"It's not just blood that can serve as a 'medium'."
The pen in his hand is not a magic weapon, nor is it a magical weapon. It is just an antique that Gongsun Mo used two hundred years ago. It is an ordinary and valuable antique, nothing more.
He was not stained with blood, but at this moment Zheng Xiu clearly felt that his hand, the pen in his hand, and the paper under the pen were "connected" with something invisible and intangible.
"Not just blood,"
"There should be a purer 'medium'."
Zheng Xiu took his fingers away from his mouth and did not bite down.
He entered an inner ethereal state, his mind was empty, and the "answer" was right in front of him. He did not rack his brains like before to think about "who is she", "what did I forget", "what happened" What?" Zheng Xiu let his mind go blank, and even "thinking" was left to his "intuition".
In other words, Zheng Xiu's current state is called "enlightenment".
Or..."immersion".
Plop.
An idea emerged from Zheng Xiu's mind out of thin air.
--"reason".
"The operation of the world, the cause and effect between people, the past and the future, there is some kind of 'connection', a kind of...'reason'."
Principles, laws of nature, and axioms.
Plop.
Zheng Xiu heard the sound of falling water in his ears.
He was still sitting there, but he fell backwards and sank into the "water".
The mountains are dyed with ink, and the watercolors are blue and green, paving a road under Zheng Xiu's feet.
Zheng Xiu walked up to this point in the [Painter] doorway in the past. When he opened the third door, there was no road ahead, only an abyss with no bottom.
But at this moment, when Zheng Xiu once again set foot on the [Painter] door and arrived in front of the "abyss", pieces of stones shrouded in ink-stained halo floated up from the bottom of the abyss and were paved above the abyss, forming a road.
“The road was always there, I just didn’t realize it.”
"The last two thresholds of the alien path are difficult to say, but not difficult to say."
"Through accumulation, success will fall into place."
Zheng Xiu looked calm and walked on the floating stone road to the opposite side.
The second door was half open, and there was light and shadow seeping through the crack.
Zheng Xiu easily opened the second door.
"Thoughts become paintings."
“What you paint makes your heart come true.”
In the middle of Richan Town.
The visions in the sky gathered silently.
In the hot valley, a pleasant breeze suddenly blew. The breeze blew by, causing the immature flower bones in the Richan Valley to bloom little by little, creating patches of delicate flowers.
Beside Moshan Waterfall, the rainbow twists into various strange shapes. One moment it becomes the character "大", the next it becomes the character "人", the next it becomes the character "木", and the next it becomes the character "天".
The whole town was dumbfounded.
The passers-by who had been shouting because of various strange phenomena just now were completely silent when they saw the outrageous sight in Moshan. They were stunned and froze in place, pinching their faces in unison.
And in the doorway.
Zheng Xiu opened the second door.
Lights and shadows from both sides crowded towards Zheng Xiu.
Zheng Xiu smiled, and with a flick of his hand, the distortion was instantly straightened, becoming a broad road.
Zheng Xiu walked on the straight doorway. At the end of the doorway, there was only the last door.
With every step he took, Zheng Xiu's eyes became brighter and the blank face in his mind became clearer and clearer.
Every smile, every anger, every inch of skin, every blink of an eye. Fragments like puzzle pieces were rewoven in Zheng Xiu's memory, filling in the gaps in Zheng Xiu's memory bit by bit, and reassembling the painting.
"Fengbei."
Zheng Xiu stood in front of the last door, smiling, tears welling up in the corners of his eyes.
"How could I forget Feng Bei."
"She was erased!"
Zheng Xiu finally remembered everything that happened at the end of the ancient battlefield that day.
In the ancient battlefield, ghosts were born, and when Zheng Haoran was about to be taken away by Chang An, Feng Bei tore open the dark tent with one hand and rushed into Chang An.
She looked back at Zheng Xiu and smiled, without saying a word, turned around and punched Zheng Haoran.
Her hands are inherently ominous, killing anyone she touches. They are the hands of an "executioner", a pair of murderous hands. But it happened that at that time, her palms, which made everyone change their color, turned into a pair of "saving people" hands when they were clenched into fists.
Zheng Haoran was not destroyed by Feng Bei's hand. In shock, Zheng Haoran was punched out of the mirror by Feng Bei and flew out of the border area.
The next moment, strange lights and shadows appeared around Feng Bei, black streams of light that seemed to contain words washed from top to bottom, and black palms gushed out from the mirror like locusts.
Each palm is stained with an ominous fuzzy light, with intermittent halo like a broken picture.
The palm fell on Feng Bei, and her body was "decomposed" into pieces bit by bit.
…
"She was taken away!"
"She was taken away!"
…
The resuscitated memory was accompanied by Zheng Xiu's heart-rending shouts at that time.
Zheng Xiu savored the memory of that time.
What pained him the most was not Feng Bei's "disappearance", but the fact that he watched Feng Bei being taken away. With this phenomenon, all memories about "Feng Bei" were erased, tampered with, and... Distorted, revised, fragmented, and reassembled, it became the world Zheng Xiu sees today.
Rather than saying this is a simple "amnesia" or "forgetting", it is better to call this a "phenomenon". Because Feng Bei was "taken away", some kind of force roughly reconnected all the causal relationships in order to maintain a certain balance. . That's why Zheng Xiu felt violated everywhere, because those things didn't really happen.
Zheng Xiu thought everything through and stood in front of the last door.
The last door was not closed, but like the previous door, it was slightly opened through a gap.
Zheng Xiu pushed the door open and entered. Behind the door was a pure and unsullied lake.
Zheng Xiu walked on the lake with ripples under his feet.
As the ripples spread farther into the distance, they gradually calmed down. Not far away, Zheng Xiu saw a strange and blurry figure from behind.
As Zheng Xiu approached, the figure suddenly became alarmed and turned around, revealing a fair and gentle face.
"He" looked at Zheng Xiu in surprise, who was also walking on the lake. The two of them approached each other at the same time.
"Zheng Xiu."
"Gongsun Mo."
The two of them stretched out their hands to each other at the same time, separated by a few feet. Before they could touch each other, there seemed to be a thick wall between them, and the ripples reached here and stopped in the air. The two of them looked down at the same time. There was a lake about one person's width below their feet. It was as smooth as a mirror and eerily quiet.
Zheng Xiu and Gongsun Mo looked at each other's unfamiliar face and were silent for a moment. They both nodded at the same time.
Just as Zheng Xiu understood the other party's identity, Gongsun Mo also knew Zheng Xiu's identity.
Gongsun Mo is the "predecessor".
Zheng Xiu is a "latecomer".
Gongsun Mo clapped his hands and smiled bitterly: "That's it."
At the same time, Zheng Xiu nodded calmly: "That's it."
The so-called weird thing is like a hard drive that stores the "data", or...perceptions, of every stranger who has come to the end.
It is also like a "key" and a "tie" connecting every "successor".
The end of the doorway,
It's "inheritance".
A hundred years ago, Gongsun Mo saw Zheng Xiu at the "end", so he painted this unfinished painting and hid the strange things in the painting.
Today, Zheng Xiu came to the end of the [Painter] doorway and saw Gongsun Mo.
bass.
Zheng Xiu suddenly opened his eyes.
Suddenly, the incomplete painting became complete.
Feng Bei's cool handsome face was painted on the blank face, with an indifferent face and tender eyes.
The next second, the surface of the painting was distorted, a vortex appeared, and a translucent withered palm stretched out.
Snapped!
The bone-like palm suddenly grabbed Zheng Xiu's hand, squeezed Zheng Xiu's flesh bit by bit, and entered Zheng Xiu's body.
After the withered palm was completely squeezed into Zheng Xiu's body, the "Fengbei" in the painting completely faded, and traces of invisible light wrapped around Zheng Xiu's little finger, leaving a faint trace.
Whoosh whoosh whoosh.
The yellowed paper lost all support and turned into powder like weathering, spreading all over the table.
Zheng Xiu raised his little finger and stared intently at the circle of marks, which looked like a circle of growth rings.
Looking closely, a faint thread extends from the "annual ring" of the little finger, extending in one direction, disappearing into the void.
Zheng Xiu became excited. He knew that this was the "reason" connecting him and Feng Bei, and it was the only clue to find Feng Bei.
Although Feng Bei was decomposed by the black palm as if he was killed in front of Zheng Xiu in the [Ancient Battlefield], Zheng Xiu stubbornly believed that Feng Bei was still alive. He finally screamed "she was taken away" instead of "she died". The way Feng Bei left seemed a bit scary, but in fact he probably went to another place in this way.
There are still many mysteries hidden in it that Zheng Xiu cannot understand, but with the "reason" wrapped around his little finger, Zheng Xiu believes that as long as he follows this trace, he can find Feng Bei.
"I advise you not to act rashly."
suddenly.
The orange cat had an elegant gait and walked silently into the inn at some point. It spoke in a lazy tone that Zheng Xiu had never heard before.
Zheng Xiu's hair stood up all over his body and he turned around in shock. What the orange cat said at this moment was not "meow meow", but the real "human words" that he could understand.
Can my cat speak human language?
Zheng Xiu's mood was up and down, his pupils were trembling, and he looked at the orange cat on the window sill, lowering his head and sticking out his tongue to lick the hair between his paws as if nothing had happened.
"you……"
Zheng Xiu made a gurgling sound in his throat.
The shadow of the seemingly weak orange cat grew infinitely in Zheng Xiu's eyes.
It squatted on the window sill, and the pressure it brought to Zheng Xiu was like a mountain, a... huge thing.
He feels this way.
"Who are you?"
Zheng Xiu asked.
(End of chapter)
