I'll give you my candle, and don't let it go out again. Pen, fun, pavilion www. biquge。 info

If one day you find that your so-called light is just a shadow of darkness, and the world you are in is just a dream, and the answer you are looking for is just a predestined ending, promise me to live well.

These two words have been echoing in my head, like the Sanskrit Buddha singing, and the scenes that happened in that forest are constantly reproducing in front of my eyes.

Is all this really just an illusion, really just an absurd dream?

I shook my head, my thoughts flying out of my head.

These questions can't be figured out in a short period of time, so it's better to wait until you go out and be safe, and then find a time to think about it slowly.

I smiled wryly at Zhang, then rested my head on my arms and leaned against the wall, squinting my eyes.

I originally wanted to close my eyes and rest for a while, but as soon as my eyelids closed, it was like there was a thousand pounds, and I couldn't open them.

My body softened into a puddle of mud and slowly slid off the wall, lying on my back on the cold ground.

I tried desperately to get up, but I found that my body was not controlled at all, and I couldn't even move my fingers.

Gradually, the pain in my body disappeared, replaced by an indescribable comfort and coziness, a slight ache that only feels when one is completely relaxed after extreme tension, and it makes me feel like my body and mind are wandering between heaven and hell.

I was so tired that I didn't hear what Lao Zhao and Xiao Zhang were saying.

Sleep, there is a voice that keeps saying to me, rest assured, sleep with his stars, sleep with him, sleep with him, sleep with him, what's the matter?!

In this way, I forgot my sorrow and fear, I forgot the pain and tension, I forgot Lao Zhao and Xiao Zhang, I forgot about life and death, I forgot about breathing, I forgot myself, like a baby in my mother's arms, on the cold floor of Shinto, falling into a deep sleep......

…………………………………………………………………………

I opened my eyes, rubbed my face with my hands, regained consciousness, pulled out my phone and looked, eleven twenty.

It had only been a little over three hours of sleep, but it felt like three centuries of sleep, the most enjoyable and heaviest sleep I've ever had since I was born.

I got up, stretched a big lazy waist, and the joints of my body made a series of popping sounds, it was a feeling between cool and painful, crispy and numb, it was so comfortable to the bones, and I felt that it was worth it to suffer no matter how much I suffered on this trip.

It seems that my body has repaired itself to a large extent during the time I was asleep, and the antibiotics have also worked, and I have two mouthfuls of saliva in my eyes, and my throat is still a little dry, but it doesn't hurt anymore.

Lao Zhao was sitting by the fire, staring very seriously at the box of cans roasted on the fire, the dancing flames dyeing his face a mysterious orange, seeing me stand up, he nodded, and pointed to the pile of dried clothes on the ground.

I took two steps forward, my knees went limp, I grunted, and I almost fell to my knees.

Seeing this, Lao Zhao hurriedly stood up, stretched out his hand to help, I waved my hand at him, picked up my clothes from the ground, and slowly put them on.

The clothes were completely dry, and with the residual heat of the flames, they were warm and comfortable to wear.

Zhang Sanfeng was awakened by our voice, rubbed his sleepy eyes, stood up with his hands on the ground, stretched his waist, and moaned comfortably, "This feeling is cooler than a shot!" ”

As I said before, this guy is a well-dressed beast who talks and behaves mildly in front of others, but in front of us, his true nature is exposed.

It's true that the dog can't spit ivory out of his mouth, and I gave him a blank look, but I have to say, this metaphor is quite apt.

I sat down next to Lao Zhao, who was still concentrating on cooking the box of cans, as if he were cutting a diamond.

The broth in the tin box was bubbling and the intoxicating aroma gradually diffused, and I sniffled and my stomach "growled" twice, it was the first time I had an appetite in such a place.

Lao Zhao picked up the box, blew two breaths on the broth inside, took a small sip of "sucking", nodded with satisfaction, and looked intoxicated.

The gluttonous worms in Xiao Zhang's stomach have long been hooked, where can he bear it, snatched the can in Lao Zhao's hand, and drank it in small sips.

I was afraid that the spice in the broth would irritate my throat, so I didn't grab it from him, but took out a few compressed biscuits from my bag and swallowed them reluctantly.

After eating and drinking, start working.

The three of us walked along the Shinto path, studying the murals on the walls by the dim light of the miner's lamp as we went.

The outside of the mural is wrapped in a layer of grease-like things, and the air in Shinto is very dry, so the mural is very well preserved.

At first glance, I realized that something was wrong, that the mural was so weird.

This mural is weird, not because of how absurd the things on it are, but because the mural uses too much paint and the content is too realistic, and it is not the style of that era at all.

Xiao Zhang is blind in this regard, so he just watched the excitement, and he didn't find this problem at all, but what makes me wonder is that Lao Zhao should be an expert in this area, why he didn't say anything, but frowned and looked at the content of the mural carefully.

In line with the principle that more is better than less, I didn't ask, but stared at the mural with them and studied it.

This turned out to be a long narrative stroke, which is very rare in ancient tombs during the Warring States period.

At the beginning of the mural, it tells of an old man with a gray beard, kneeling on the floor of a palace, raising his hands above his head, offering a cylindrical object, which appears to be a scroll.

And the person sitting on the top of the main hall wears a crown of heaven, wearing a colorful ribbon, yellow bones, white feathers, green silk yuan, five cai, and four hundred heads, and a sword more than one person long is pinned to his waist, and two ancient Chinese characters can be faintly seen on the scabbard - Tai'a.

Seeing this, I felt suddenly enlightened, this person is His Majesty the First Emperor, Yingzheng.

This mural depicts Yingzheng's domineering spirit of "swinging a sword to hit the clouds, and the princes come to the west" to the fullest, and the details are perfectly outlined to the horror, from top to bottom, from top to bottom, gown, crown, yellow, sting, belt, dress, clothing, hand, balance, Zhen, Xuan, Hong, and 綖, living out of an indispensable Qin Shi Huang, sitting in front of us.

"Lao Zhao, you say...... Who is this old man? Xiao Zhang broke the brief silence.

"If my guess is correct, this old man," Lao Zhao narrowed his eyes, "it should be King Zhou." ”

"But...... Isn't this the tomb of King Zhou? I immediately retorted, "Why did he paint these things on the murals?" ”

According to my understanding, the murals in the mausoleum generally depict the celestial phenomena related to heaven, earth, yin and yang, the five elements, fairies, birds and beasts, some famous historical stories, chariots and horses honor guards, buildings and portraits of the tomb owner, etc., with complex meanings, but most of them express the life of the tomb owner during his lifetime and the good wishes for his ascension to heaven after death, hoping that the deceased will enjoy a rich life in the underground world created by the artists.

This week, how could King Zhen paint all the humiliation he suffered on these murals, could it be that he refused to turn a blind eye even when he died, and was bound to bring all his hatred for Yingzheng to hell?

"Who said this must be the tomb of King Zhou?" Lao Zhao asked with a smile.

By the way, I remembered, we have analyzed it before, it is very likely that Qin Shi Huang is red at this piece of feng shui treasure, and he played a trick to occupy the magpie's nest, and I suddenly opened my mouth, but then I had greater doubts, the person who destroyed the Zhou Dynasty was not Qin Shi Huang's father Zhuang Xiang Wang Yingchu, and besides, this Zhou Xun King does not seem to have lived to Qin Shi Huang to succeed to the throne!

Besides, even if this is really the tomb of Qin Shi Huang, shouldn't he paint on the mural his great achievements in unifying the Six Kingdoms and sweeping the Eight Wildernesses? How could you draw such a scene!

"Where do you see all these things?" Lao Zhao didn't answer my question, but asked.

"Sima Qian's Historical Records."

"Then you say, where did Sima Qian know about this history? Did he see it with his own eyes? Lao Zhao continued to ask.

I shook my head, how is this possible, it is not a dynasty at all.

"Then you say, who are the people who write history?" Before I could answer, Lao Zhao continued, "It's the winner, the winner, it's justice!" ”

"A person like Yingzheng, in that era, he was the sky, and it was too easy for him to tamper with a piece of history," Lao Zhao sighed, "He said when did King Zhou Yu die, when did King Zhou Xun die, even if someone found some clues, what can it do?" If it is not an official official history, how can it be handed down? ”

"It's just ......," I nodded, "what did he do it for?" ”

"This is a shocking secret, related to the 'good thing' I said," Lao Zhao smiled mysteriously, "When I get to the place, I will slowly share it with you." ”

I pursed my lips and stopped talking, the doubts in my heart growing stronger, and I had a vague feeling that this matter would not be as simple as it seemed.

Why is Lao Zhao so clear about all this?

Also, what exactly is the good thing he said?