ancient writing
To know the answers to these questions, one must seek the help of the person involved. Ming Yan was particularly interested in intervening in this matter. The painting was borrowed from Mr. Zhao, and Mr. Zhao's assistant had just called to ask her to return it as soon as possible. So Ming Yan, under the pretext of returning the painting, wanted to take Hui Zifeng to meet Mr. Zhao. However, when they arrived at his house, they learned that Mr. Zhao had gone to his master's retreat and would not be back for two weeks.
The exhibition was scheduled for exactly half a month from now. Ming Yan had exhausted all his connections, but this was all he could do. So, he would have to wait until half a month from now.
As luck would have it, Hui Zifeng knew a professor who studied ancient Chinese characters, so he took a photo of the inscription on the painting and asked the professor for advice. As soon as he sent the photo, the professor called, sounding hurried:
"What does your poem mean? Why is half of it written in ancient Chinese characters and the other half in modern simplified Chinese characters? Who wrote it?"
"Professor, I saw that in a painting, and I was just wondering what that ancient writing meant."
It wasn't that Hui Zifeng distrusted Ming Yan, but rather that he wanted to verify the situation. The few words over the phone weren't enough to explain the situation, so the professor asked Hui Zifeng to come to his house as soon as possible to discuss the matter, preferably with the painting. However, the painting had already been returned. The two arrived at the professor's house empty-handed.
Upon entering, Ming Yan was amazed by the professor's home furnishings. He had originally thought her little place was a place where one could travel back in time, experience the vicissitudes of life, and gather the spiritual energy of humanity. Unexpectedly, the professor's place was filled with a dazzling array of ancient artifacts, as if a corner of ancient times had been frozen in time. Even if a modern professor poked his head out from among the piles of books, it wouldn't look out of place.
"Professor, this is my friend Ming Yan. She borrowed the painting from Mr. Zhao Yuwei. Ming Yan, this is Professor Hou Wenbo, a leading scholar in ancient Chinese characters." Hui Zifeng introduced the two. Ming Yan excitedly went to greet the professor, but he ignored her. Hui Zifeng gave Ming Yan an apologetic look, and Ming Yan smiled, understanding.
The professor brought over a plastic album, each page of which was still covered in broken pages. He flipped open a page, pointed to a character, and then opened another book to explain, "Look, these characters aren't Chinese at all, and of course, they're not in a foreign language either."
"What is that word?" Hui Zifeng was a little anxious.
"It's likely the language of an ancient ethnic group, lost in time. However, some of the symbols are similar to the ancestors of our modern Chinese characters. Twenty years ago, some stone carvings were unearthed on what is now Chongning Street, showing this type of writing—a world first. However, these have never been made public. How did they get out there? What was the artist's name? Why did he write these characters?"
"It's Teacher Zhao Yuwei, a disciple of Master Yiqiao," Ming Yan answered first, because she noticed Hui Zifeng was already lost in thought. He was probably thinking about these secret questions again.
"I know him." The professor immediately called Mr. Yiqiao, and it was Zhao Yuwei who answered the phone. The professor asked, "Junior brother, one of my students saw your painting, titled 'Prayer at the Altar,' did you know that?"
"Si Tan Qi Yuan"? Ming Yan hadn't noticed the poem's title. Firstly, she didn't recognize the flamboyant calligraphy, and secondly, Professor Zhao Yuwei hadn't mentioned those words when he was explaining it to her. Now, looking more closely, those words really did resemble "Si Tan Qi Yuan." Wasn't Shui Xi's nickname for Hui Zi Feng also "Si Tan"? Ming Yan was delighted by this little discovery and secretly nudged Hui Zi Feng. He only glanced at him perfunctorily, his attention never leaving the professor's speech.
"There are two lines of poetry written in ancient Chinese characters. Do you know what they mean? ... How did you know? Even those of us in the field haven't fully figured it out. How did you know? This painting is not bad either. The handwriting is almost identical to the artifacts unearthed twenty years ago. Junior Brother, have someone send that painting to me for research... Junior Brother, your refusal is highly suspicious... Of course I know you can't forge it, but the question is who wrote these words?"
Hui Zifeng couldn't help but move closer to the professor's phone. He heard Mr. Zhao Yuwei's answer:
"Oh, that painting was done at home before I became your disciple. I think I met a little girl from out of town. She asked me to help her paint it and add the calligraphy. I wrote the words for the altar prayer. ... Oh... She seemed to have told me her name, but I can't remember it... I can't remember the circumstances at the time... I thought the word 'coffin' on the painting was unlucky, so I kept it hidden... Oh, I suddenly remembered that she seemed to say she would come back to get it, and asked me to keep it. She also seemed to have taken something from me... I can't remember, I can't remember... Brother, what you said is really scary. How could a little girl write words that you big guys don't know? Take another look, are you seeing things because of your dim eyes?"
"Mr. Zhao!" Hui Zifeng rudely snatched the phone away, his heart in his throat. "Mr. Zhao, do you still remember what that little girl looks like? Can you help me draw her? Once we find her, everything will be clear!"
"How could I remember?" Zhao Yuwei said with a bit of complaint, "It gives me a headache just thinking about it. How about this, you guys come to see me the day before my exhibition opens? Maybe there will be some clues... This is simply a fantasy, isn't it..."
The call ended. Silence fell over the group. The old professor reviewed his materials again, reaching the same conclusion as before. So far, he could only guess at the characters for "moon" and "god." The other characters, like special spells, had no reference, and thus no way to infer them.
"We will definitely find the girl who wrote this." The professor placed all his hopes on the child.
Twenty years ago, as a student, he participated in the cultural relic excavation on Chongning Street. Developers dug up a river channel, and overnight, it filled with clear water. Engineers suspected a hidden source of water beneath the channel and conducted several reconnaissance missions, finding it strange. Finally, after draining the water and digging a few meters deeper, they discovered a pile of bones, pulled to the surface by an unknown liquid. Genes from different generations were detected in the bones, leading to speculation that the area had once been a mass grave. However, they also made a surprising discovery: they found human genes from two thousand years ago in the bones.
Then, strange things began to happen in the dug-up riverbed. Every night, a few deer would appear, unfazed by people, simply staring and staring. Then, in the blink of an eye, they'd scurried off into the nearby woods and vanish. Authorities even tracked the deer and concluded that the nearby woods were devoid of any wild animals.
Finally, an archaeological team accepted the task and conducted research on the site. They removed the bones floating on the surface and discovered a tomb deeper within. The stone carvings and bronze artifacts now housed in the Nan Chongning Street Museum were unearthed during this period. The professor remembered seeing the same inscriptions on the tomb's stone walls as those in the painting.
Ever since the river channel was opened, the sound of a tsunami could be heard within a radius of ten miles. Something was flowing and surging beneath the ground, as if it was about to burst forth and engulf the people. Their area was thousands of kilometers from the nearest sea and hundreds of kilometers from the Yangtze River. Once outside that boundary, the strange noises ceased. Consequently, the archaeological work was halted due to social pressure. The excavated bones were properly buried, and an underground monument erected.
Ming Yan also thought this was pure fantasy, perhaps just a trick. The two said goodbye to the professor and walked down the street, one in front of the other. The summer heat didn't bother these two preoccupied individuals. Although Ming Yan had doubted Hui Zifeng's mental state, his subsequent interactions with him only deepened his belief that Hui Zifeng was clearly pursuing something he was born lacking. Geniuses aside, aren't many ordinary people like this? Obsessed with something.
The thing he was pursuing was a person. This was hard to understand. Could there really be past lives and present lives in this world? Ming Yan didn't believe it. But now things were moving more and more in this incredible direction.
"Are you looking for a person?" Ming Yan tentatively expressed his suspicion.
Hui Zifeng suddenly looked embarrassed, pretending to scratch the back of his head and smiling innocently, "You found out."
It's already obvious, okay!
"But that's not necessarily the case," Hui Zifeng sighed as he gazed at the sunset. Of all the seasons, spring, summer, autumn, and winter, only this season offers the most beautiful sunsets. "I've always thought it was a human, but that's impossible, isn't it? Could it be an old, long-lived monster? We all know that's impossible. I wonder if it's some sense of purpose, or some kind of atmosphere? Plants and animals have their preferred habitats, but I don't. That's why I've always felt uncomfortable, like something's missing from my heart."
"Hey, I always thought you were a bit eccentric, but I didn't expect you to be quite sentimental." Ming Yan opened his phone and typed "Hui Zi Feng" into the search box. Immediately, a flood of messages popped up. Ming Yan clicked on the most recent one, and a song softly streamed from his phone.
Hui Zifeng looked at him in confusion. Ming Yan danced to the music and walked in front of Hui Zifeng.
"Your song has won another award. You're a real talent. Maybe you're just looking for inspiration."
You see, as soon as the true feelings in his heart are revealed, normal people will try their best to persuade him to return to normal. Hui Zifeng stopped talking and looked at the scenery outside the car window.
They were riding the light rail, which was sparsely populated. Outside the window, fields stretched to either side, narrow canals winding through the lush greenery, gleaming in the sunlight. It was this very sight that stirred inexplicable emotions within Hui Zifeng.
"I've taken you home, come back quickly!" Hui Zifeng accompanied Ming Yan to Beichongning Street, which was only a hundred meters away from her shop. Ming Yan invited Hui Zifeng to sit in the shop again, at least to see Shuixi again.
Hui Zifeng suddenly sighed, rolled his eyes, and said in disgust, "Why should I meet him again? There's no need! I'm leaving!"
Ming Yan looked at Hui Zifeng's back and thought, this college student is quite serious even when he is sad.
It was already dark. The moon hung brightly in the center of North and South Chongning Street. From the darkness not far away came the voice of a young girl.
"Let's not go any further! I'm so scared! It's creepy here."
"Yes, yes, the boss is right, there is indeed something here. I don't dare to explore anymore! It's better to come during the day, you see all the shops are closed."
Hui Zifeng looked back. The shop near "Shan You Fu Su" was an old-fashioned pastry shop, and it was deserted. He had never seen what the owner looked like. The next shop was a shop selling antiques and collectibles. It was unremarkable and rarely opened, but the pot of red plums at the door was very unique and often bloomed. Next was the Chongning Street Museum mentioned by the professor. It looked like an old house that had been neglected for a long time and didn't even have a sign. There was a stone tablet on the left side of the door with "No Entry" engraved on it, but there was no sign on the right. A pomegranate tree stretched out most of its side from the courtyard wall, like a person leaning over to look out.
I'll have to go in and take a look when I get a chance, Hui Zifeng thought. As he walked forward, he glanced at the river. His heart suddenly trembled, as if he had seen something. What was it? He was also afraid, but he couldn't help but walk down to the thing.
The object, emitting a soft, white, misty glow, seemed to sense Hui Zifeng's movements and quickly moved to the other side. Hui Zifeng didn't want to cross the river, so he returned to the road on South Chongning Street and went around to the other side. This frightened the two young girls and made them scream.
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