There is such a group of people in Xiuyanxu, who are working day and night.

If it weren't for the flooding of their workshop, they would have been weaving here until the end of the world.

They were weavers and lived in Xiuyan Market. The meaning of life is to repeat the boring echo of the loom. The fact that the loom is ringing proves that they are alive. If the looms stopped, they would stand still, like a pile of wood.

They're like a nameless ghost in front of a machine.

There was a faint light in their eyes that proved that their hearts were still beating.

These weavers, either from all over the world, or hereditary weavers, have been placed in rows of empty glass houses on the flat ground of Xiuyan Ruins for generations.

For hundreds of years, these weavers have been weaving in silence. Whether it is the sunlight or the moonlight and candles, they face the cloth in front of them sincerely, and entrust their lives to the cloth in their hands, and they are not dexterous at all.

It seems to be an ordinary group of people, but if you think about it carefully, it is indeed rare in the world. The two family heads of Xiuyan Ruins who took them in at the beginning also took a fancy to this trait in them.

From dozens to hundreds, it can be regarded as a thousand choices. Correspondingly, the cloth woven by these people is particularly expensive. These cloths themselves have a kind of magic, and the people who use these cloths will become happy and their wishes will be fulfilled.

These fabrics were only secretly sold to a few shops and did not expand.

Hua Nuan'er, the lord of Fenghua City, founded the lucky weaving house, which was purchased from here. She has always kept this source secret to the outside world. The cloth merchants from all over the world are strange, and they can't figure out where she got these sought-after cloths from scratching her ears and cheeks.

There are not many types of industries operated by Xiuyan Market, and the marketing is not deliberate. The path of cloth production and distribution also originated from a coincidence.

......

Textile workers, working with their hands, Xiuyan Ruins provide them with a place to live. It's like a collaboration, seamless.

These people have nowhere to go, except Xiuyan Ruins, they can't find any other place in this world. Here, they live very freely. People and things outside the glass house, they don't care.

The loom changed several times, and the loom changed from manpower, to steam-powered, and then to electric......

People have also changed several times, and it has been several generations. However, each generation became more and more indifferent, and the distance between the looms and looms grew. The workers, as if carved out of a mold, except for the focused weaving, in the eyes of outsiders, what is left of them is indifference.

Anyone outside the textile workshop will be suffocated if they work and live in this program...... A boring, monotonous and indifferent life. There is no entertainment and no love.

Now this wave of textile workers is like an indifferent and ruthless textile machine in a glass room like an ice cube. These people, and these machines, are no different. Compared with their ancestors, they don't know how to "speak", and their mouths are like an ornament for them, and they don't need them at all.

A few days ago, the heavy rain in Xiuyanxu collapsed a lot of the glass house of the textile workshop, and the textile machine also lost a lot of ......

At the top of Xiuyan Ruins, the manager in charge of the textile industry noticed the collapse of the building when he inspected the workshop, so he organized these textile workers together and temporarily moved to the Yabian Art Museum for refuge.

When they were found by the rescue team, these workers were still weaving cloth in a leaky house!

......

Now, the rain has stopped, and the glass workshop is being renovated and repaired. Because these people have no place to live, the logistics of Xiuyan Ruins temporarily closed the empty cliffside art museum, opened it up, and set up some temporary relief sheds in it for these people to live in.

The restaurant is not big, but it is enough.

These textile workers, point-to-point, were transferred to the art museum, which is quite safe and comfortable.

Gao Agui, a short-haired textile worker, returned to the Yabian Art Museum for the first time. Today's Yabian Art Museum, in the eyes of Gao Agui, a man in his early forties, is like a paradise without lights.

Since it is open-air, the daytime light of the Cliffside Art Museum is all supplied by daylight. The sky above is still in a state of light rain. Due to the location of the Cliffside Art Museum, which is higher than the surrounding buildings and topography, if you stand on a high platform, you can see the sea beyond the walls of the museum.

Gao Agui saw the endless sea in the distance, and couldn't help but feel so beautiful. He swallowed, and the man's Adam's apple moved, and his vision deepened. Gao Agui seemed to see the sky for the first time, it was blue, and there were several islands growing on the sea.

Gao Agui, who came down from the square platform, heard a particularly special breathing sound around him...... This is different from a noisy textile workshop. The sound is here, too, amplified.

Gao Agui loves this place.

The textile workers have just moved here, and they are all tired after a day of moving. At this time, each rested in his own white tent. Gao Agui looked at his group of workers, and felt a little uneasy in his heart.

He suddenly realized that all of them were trapped in a very small world, so small that they only had one workstation of their own. Gao Agui suddenly compared the size of the outside world with the small ...... of the workshop This comparison made him feel ridiculous, he was as small as an ant.

The poor ant, now aware of his "own existence", began to want to work. This dangerous thought frightened him, how could he be unsociable, and where else could he go but this place?

On the other hand, Gao Agui doubts the meaning of his life.

Gao Agui came here with his mother. My mother is old and lives in a nursing home in Xiuyan Market. And he, inheriting his mother's position, became an unknown weaver.

Mother's life is at the end. At this moment, Gao Agui's evaluation for her is: doing nothing. He feared that he would repeat his mother's mistakes.

In the world of weavers, there is no splendor, no deceit, there is just monotonous work day after day, year after year, at a glance.

Gao Agui is forty years old, and he has never thought of talking about marriage before today. Because the young and strong laborers in the textile workshop, both men and women, did not talk about marriage. He realized that he had never seen anyone among his co-workers run to get married!

Some of them were brought to Xiuyanxu by their parents when they were children, and some came by themselves.

Although they didn't think about why they came to this place, nor did they plan their future lives, they all felt that they were a kind of people - loveless people.

Not only is there no love, but there doesn't seem to be cruelty.

Work also becomes a goal in itself, helping them to cross the loveless canyon of life.

They came to life, a moving part of the loom, very precisely.

Yu Fuchun, a textile worker, couldn't hold back his hands and turned on a gramophone in the museum, and the sound instantly resounded throughout the museum.

The workers who were asleep were awakened by the music.

Chapter 116: A loveless weaver who took refuge in the Cliffside Art Museum

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