Chapter 1307 The only state!

The cold wind blew along the window and the candlelight swayed, and the pages of this picture of civilization reincarnation were lifted.

The catalog records the rise and fall of all dynasties, and finally, under his compilation, they all gathered into a closed ring, just like the trajectory of the moon in the long night.

Looking at this ring, he suddenly realized that every word and every year name in the history books were just traces of the wheel running through, and the wheel itself never stopped turning.

So he forced himself to hold on to the sick body and used the last time of his life to carve what he had learned throughout his life on the twelve bronze simplified pieces.

Even if he knew that the truth he had pursued for his whole life, the twelve bronze pieces he carved that could resist the power of time were just a small wave in the long river of reincarnation.

But he did it anyway.

Those vague overlapping time under a certain force by the historians of the dynasty, the truth of destruction covered by myths, and the same prophecies wrapped in different words all reveal their true colors under his carving knife.

When the last knife carved the eight words "All things will reincarnate, and they will eventually return to silence", a thunder suddenly came from outside the window!

The rumbling sound exploded into the world, and the raindrops dropped sharply, hitting the earth and on the glazed tiles.

The rhythm and the rhythm made Chen Mo a little dazed. He vaguely felt that this seemed to have the same rhythm as the rain of destruction recorded in "Fenggong" a thousand years ago.

"I'm leaving..."

Chen Mo murmured, his life began to extinguish, and the world in front of him began to blur.

His life was like a boat trapped in Shihai, not understood by the world, but he also left some traces.

"I'm still a little regretful..."

Chen Mo said softly.

So in the last time waiting for death to come, he raised his head with difficulty and looked at the thunderstorm outside the window.

Perhaps it was a regret in his heart, so it seemed that for a moment, he didn't know if it was blurry, but saw his shadow throwing on the wall when lightning flashed past it, and it overlapped with the bronze simplified papers, the Nine Ming hexagrams of the spirit, the marks of ancient bone inscriptions, and the dragon patterns of the gold foil edict of this dynasty, to form the same outline.

Chen Mo was stunned, and then a bright light appeared in his eyes.

"Everyone who tries to grasp the trajectory of history will eventually become the trajectory itself."

Chen Mo smiled.

Let the coolness of the rain pass through the wrinkles on his face, and he suddenly feels that he is no longer the Zhouzi trapped in Shi Hai, but has turned into the lamp in Zhouzi's hand.

This lamp may not illuminate the eternal fog, but at least let later generations know that in the gap between countless destruction and rebirth, someone once held the lamp stubbornly, and carved a faint but clear mark in the long river of time.

Perhaps in the next thousand years, another historian will suddenly see this mark when he is sorting out ancient classics on an autumn night and perceive the lights in time and space.

In the end, like myself, I realized that it was a weak but eternal signal transmitted to each other by countless civilizations in destruction and rebirth.

They will become another self, and will become spiritual friends with someone in the future.

"It's enough!"

The enlightenment at this moment is not the ecstasy of sudden enlightenment, but the silence like the first melting of spring ice.

He already understood that every word in history books is a scale of reincarnation, and the truth he pursued throughout his life has never made all civilizations surrender to the same answer.

Instead, I saw that all the answers were circulating on the same circle.

This is the unity.

At this moment, the candlelight at the post station was unstable, as if there were shadows of countless dynasties overlapping into the same silhouette of the cycle of reincarnation in the light and shadow.

The candlelight and the starlight illuminate each other. In the light of the light, there seems to be a jasper cicada, shining inside.

And Chen Mo closed his eyes with a smile on his face.

...

The cicadas are still chirping.

Cicada wings, too.

Scenes, little by little, piece by piece, reflect the colorful lives of different people in different time and space, with the same source, but evolved from various trajectories.

The colorful ones bloom after another.

These thoughts arise from time and space and return to Xu Qing's consciousness, which continuously strengthens his consciousness, makes him experience various lives, and makes his breath become an invisible hand, plucking the strings of the Xian again and again.

The more and more notes played, and finally weaving a song to play a stern sound called "Lu".

But... this sound was brewing continuously, but the sound could not be heard.

because……

“One is missing.”

Xu Qing opened his eyes and looked at Xu Wu.

That was the last self in time and space. He never formed the thought of unity. Even if it was guided by the God of Pain, he could not control his thoughts.

He is a painter.

Once upon a time, the old man burned all the scrolls and drew the word "one" on a piece of rice paper.

At this moment, there are also five more strokes on the rice paper.

"One" becomes "come"

The first stroke is also the first stroke of the word "I".

This is an invitation that spans time and space.

So after Xu Qing stared at him, he stood up and walked towards the void.

This step has entered time and space, entered parallel, and appeared in the old painter's study.

The moment he appeared, the old man who paused his pen tip on the rice paper raised his head, the wrinkles on his face bloomed, and he looked at Xu Qing and laughed.

"I've been waiting for you for a long time."

"And don't talk, just listen to me."

"I learned painting when I was young and had reached the peak. I used painting as the boundary and realized the movement of heaven and earth when I was old..."

"And in my painting, I saw all living beings, I saw everything, such as that Liu Xuanji, Chen Mo, and even, I saw you..."

"And then, I burn everything and sit here because I understand that I and the world I am in may not exist, because you need us to exist, so we exist."

"As for what you need, I saw it from the painting twenty years ago."

After saying that, the old painter raised his hand and took out a new piece of rice paper. After taking a deep breath, he grindled the ink and finally picked up the pen, stained the ink and dripped it in front of the rice paper, and suddenly painted it.

It is not a work of prosperity, but a few simple strokes that outline one small grid after another.

Then, after a pause, the old painter stained the new ink and drew a line directly!

This line connects all the small grids!

These strokes seemed to have used all his strength. At this moment, his breath began to dissipate. Even the pen in his hand could not hold it. Only the old voice echoed hoarsely in the study.

“Unified, not just space, but time.”

"Time is a line, it has no present, no past, no future."

"Space are grids. They were originally static, but after a line of time was connected, they moved."

"Like this painting, those small grids, each of which is ourselves, contains the beginning to the end."

"A timeline, connecting all small grids, is the entire life of parallelism in all time and space."

"So, our path is to pull away the line of time, absorb it, and let ourselves be time."

"Then, all the static small grids are absorbed."

"After doing these things, you have achieved parallel unity, and you have become the only one."

"I would like to call this unique state...district!"

"That's our tenth pole!"

The old painter closed his eyes after saying the last word.
Chapter completed!