In the gallery, Ye Bei turned around and looked at Wang Xiu quietly.
There was white hair, there were also wrinkles and furrows on that face.
His whole person looked very fragile, his eye sockets were also hollow, like a candle in the wind, it would go out at any time.
But in those dim eyes, there was a light of hope.
Longevity, in the eyes of the layman, was the most precious treasure, even a saint could not let go of it, they would try to live forever.
Only Ye Bei knew.
What kind of curse was it to live countless years!
Why did he live forever?
Why were all the gods and Buddhas disappeared but he was still there?
The mystery of longevity was also what Ye Bei had pursued in the endless years, he also wanted to know the answer.
"There is no way to extend life in this world." For a long time, looking at the dying old man in front of him, Ye Bei was no longer reserved this time, his voice was cold and unceremonious.
"Yes, old ancestor. Your room is in the backyard, this junior will go to prepare it now, and I will leave with Little Gu tomorrow." The corner of Wang Xiu's eyes flashed with disappointment, and then he bent down and retreated respectfully. He did not dare to ask anymore, he also knew in his heart that longevity was the secret and the most precious wealth, so it was impossible for people to share it with him.
Moreover, this matter was also too abrupt for him, if the way of extending life really existed, the world would have been messed up long ago.
But if it did not exist, why could Ye Bei survive forever?
How could he hold a portrait and come here again after eighty years, looking for a person?
Wang Xiu couldn't figure it out, he couldn't guess it either.
Creak…
He pushed the door and walked to the backyard.
Whoosh!
A cold breeze blew, Wang Xiu paused and looked up.
"Sigh!" Looking at the bright moonlight, he could not help but think back to his own life, with loss and laughter, and in the end all turned into a long sigh.
The years were rushing, and the heroes were also exhausted.
Even if he was once handsome and talented, so what about it? In the end, all of it would still be buried in the soil.
…
Opposite gallery, in an antique shop.
At this moment, the door of this antique shop was also closed tightly.
Inside, near the Eight Immortals table, there were three people, an old man, and two young people. (A/N: It's an old-fashioned square table to seat eight people.)
The old man's eyes were as sharp as eagle's, his hair was gray, and he was wearing a red jacket, just sitting there gave people a feeling of not being close.
Among the two young people, one person had short hair, fierce eyes, his complexion was as pale as paper, looking lifeless, but his arms were abnormally sturdy.
The other person was a young man with yellow hair, studded earrings, and stylishly dressed, his eyes revealed arrogance and proudness.
When the three were sitting together, the surrounding air seemed to have become a lot colder.
There was a bit of corpse energy on their bodies. If someone with a discerning eye was here, he could probably see through it at a glance.
The three of them were clearly tomb robbers.
"Old Wu, are you sure that under that gallery is Wang Xizhi's cemetery?" Among them, the short-haired young man had blinking eyes and a questioning voice.
"Qitian, how can I lie to you about this matter? The Kunlun Mountain incident, do you know?" Old Wu's full name was Wu Sanri. This old guy once claimed that there was no tomb in this world that could not be stolen within three days after construction started. Speaking of Kunlun Mountain, his eyes were full of heat.
"You are talking about the Kunlun Mountain Old Immortal incident? Of course, I've heard about it. Just three days ago, the Old Immortal went down the mountain and wiped out the Zhao Family overnight. There were 899 people in the family, whether it is a direct line or a sideline, all of them could not escape death. This matter has been spread long ago, but it has been suppressed by the government. Except for the upper-class folks, ordinary people don't know about it. But what does this have to do with Wang Xizhi's tomb?" Qitian, his full name was Zhang Qitian. He was a daring guy, every time he went to a tomb, he would always be the first one to rush. At this moment, he frowned slightly and said very seriously.
Old Wu smiled and looked at the yellow-haired young man next to him, "Shengcheng, how about you?"
Shengcheng's full name was Pan Shengcheng, don't look at his stylish look, regarding the tomb robbery, he was definitely an expert, and he had been in this circle all the year round. He was very familiar with many things and was the fastest to get news.
Hearing Old Wu's question, Pan Shengcheng thought for a while, and his expression quickly became cautious, "What you said… could it be about the canyon of the Kunlun Mountain? Back then, professor Xu and the others went there for archaeology. It was very crazy that time, he was crazy about seeking immortality, and he's still receiving treatment in a mental hospital now."
"Is there really such thing?" Zhang Qitian felt incredible.
However, Old Wu smiled mysteriously, "Shengcheng is right. It happened seven days ago, on the same day, the country sent a helicopter to pick Professor Xu and his team out. Countless national treasure-level archaeologists searched overnight. On the surface, they could not find anything, but in fact, one of the archaeologists is an old friend of mine and we have a fateful relationship. He got a piece of an ancient scroll in the canyon, it clearly records that No. 32 Ancient Street is the location of Wang Xizhi's tomb, which contains a lot of authentic relics. After the event is completed, we only need to divide 30 percent of the share."
Zhang Qitian widened his eyes, "Old Wu, I did not understand before why did you want to buy the gallery here... in the end, you could not buy the gallery from that old man, but got this antique shop instead. You're really calculative…"
"The way you do thing is thoughtful and attentive, you deserve to be Old Wu. We have cooperated for so many years, and you only talked about this today, this is too unkind, even treating us as outsiders." Pan Shengcheng also spoke.
Hu, hu…
However, when these words fell, the room was suddenly extremely quiet.
Wu Sanri leaned on the chair, his eyes lightly closed.
When Pan Shengcheng and Zhan Qitian saw him not answering, their eyes widened and kept rolling.
Wang Xizhi's tomb!
Countless authentic relics!
It must be known that in this modern era, Wang Xizhi's authentic works had long been fired into sky-high prices.
If this tomb was really dug out, how much would they earn?
In one hour, inside the room, the atmosphere was silent. After an hour passed, Zhang Qitian spoke.
"Operate!" He just simply gave out such a word.
"Operate" Pan Shengcheng also followed suit.
"Very good. After the event is completed, you can take an authentic work as a reward. Before the event is completed, this secret definitely can't be allowed to be passed on, otherwise I will let him disappear directly. Now, let's discuss the plan." Wu Sanri opened his eyes as they flashed fiercely, but soon returned to normal, "There are two plans at present. First, start digging in our courtyard and hollow out there… Second, tomorrow, we go to the other side, and we'll make sure to take that shop off."
…
"Tomb robbers."
However, when Wu Sanri, Zhang Qitian, and Pan Shengcheng was discussing how to dig out Wang Xizhi's tomb, they did not know at all that, just across from them, in their target gallery, a young man in a white gown stood with his hands behind his back, looking at one of the paintings which contained the unbroken chain of mountain peaks, whispering softly in his mouth.
Life gives back what you ask from it.
"Master, I have almost copied your words. But I always feel that something is missing."
A boy with a brush in his hand was practicing calligraphy on a wooden board. A young man in a white gown stood beside him with indifferent eyes. After writing a line, the boy frowned slightly and shook his head slightly, always feeling dissatisfied.
"Continue to practice." The young man replied.
"Master, look, it's almost done." A middle-aged man, holding calligraphy and painting, handed it to a teenager respectfully, his voice trembling slightly.
"Not enough." The teenager shook his head, his voice was indifferent.
"Master, it should be done this time." A gray-haired old man, holding a writing brush, calligraphy and painting in his hand, his eyes revealed a wise look.
"Not bad." The teenager took the calligraphy and painting, glanced slightly, and nodded gently.
After listening, the old man was overjoyed and danced like a child. After decades of hard work, he was finally recognized by his master.
But when the old man was extremely happy, the young man said, "In the future, there's only Wang Xizhi… the calligraphy and painting are all created by you alone, understand?"
"Master, that's impossible… this is a big act of rebellion." The old man gave a grimace look, then knelt down with a thump.
The young man's voice was calm, "Years are passing, but I am the only one who survives. There are traces that I don't want to erase, so every reincarnation, I will find someone to ghostwrite… You are one of them."
Hearing this, the old man trembled. Although he did not fully understand, he knew that the decision made by his master would not be changed. After a long time, he sighed inwardly and said in his mouth, "Master! I understand…"
After that day, the young man left without saying goodbye as he went away floating around the world.
While Wang Xizhi kept a certain degree of selfishness when forging everything, and spent his entire life digging out secret rooms in his courtyard. Although he replaced Ye Bei's calligraphy and paintings, there were also many works that he did not stamp his own seal while he secretly hid a lot of Ye Bei's authentic works.
Time flies and a thousand years had passed.
Ye Bei already knew about this matter, but he had no time to deal with it. When he was living in Kunlun Mountain, he deliberately took notes.
Eighty years ago, he came once. The time had already passed for a thousand years, those calligraphies and paintings were not stamped. He felt that it would be a pity to destroy them, so he left them.
Eighty years later, he revisited his old place.
In the gallery, Ye Bei stood quietly.
After a long moment, his thoughts returned from a thousand years ago. He turned around and put away the scroll paintings of the old man he had brought, he made a direct decision, "Those calligraphies and paintings are already Xizhi's works, without my name. Many of the previous works have also been divided by later generations. Since the years are long, since letting them stay, it is also a kind of fate, so let's just simply let them appear."
…
The next day.
The sky was just bright, Wang Gu rushed out of the room in a hurry. He was still holding the calligraphy and painting in his hand, he moved very carefully as to avoid damaging them.
The clothes on his body were still from yesterday, his eyes were still wearing the reading glasses from yesterday too.
However, at this moment, his complexion was ruddy and luminous as if he stepped on a gem, but the corner of his eyes was dark and his pupils were bloodshot, indicating that he had not rested well last night.
Creak!
He opened the back door of the gallery.
This time, when Wang Gu saw the back of Ye Bei, he was no longer as rude as yesterday.
But his heart could not stop beating wildly.
"Sir, is this calligraphy and painting really done by you yesterday?" His tone was very serious.
"Yes." Ye Bei gave a light reply.
"It's incredible, really incredible. If I had not seen it with my own eyes, I would never have imagined such a thing. I can guarantee that if this calligraphy and painting were to hang outside, it would cause a huge shock." With a positive answer from Ye Bei, Wang Gu was particularly happy, like a child.
Afterward, he found a frame in the gallery. His expression changed from joyful to serious as his eyes were concentrated on decoration, his hand was skillful, but he was completely unaware that the person who painted it was far more precious than the calligraphy and painting.
After half an hour.
The calligraphy and the painting were decorated.
Wang Gu excitedly opened the door of the gallery.
The calligraphy of "Orchid Pavilion Preface" and the painting of "Orchid Pavilion Preface" were placed at the door together.
On this day, he did not take a brush and paint as he did in the past. Instead, he set up a small bamboo chair and sat next to the calligraphy and painting, staring at the passerby, hoping that those who knew the goods would appreciate and appraise it together.
At the same time, the light from the corner of his eye swept over the two works from time to time, for fear those two precious things would disappear out of thin air from the spot.
It was early; a bright orange sun rose from to the sky.
The sunlight spilled on the streets of the Ancient Town and on the glazed tiles, reflecting the quiet and the peaceful scenery.
After being developed, the Ancient Town had completely become a tourist town. Even in the early morning, there was never a shortage of tourists.
On the street, people came and went, countless men and women, laughing and giggling.
But at the gallery's entrance, after putting out the two calligraphy and painting, the result was not as Wang Gu expected.
As time flies, the first person to stop was a young lady wearing a floral dress.
When she stopped in front of the calligraphy and painting and looked at it carefully, Wang Gu's complexion rested, thinking that she was an expert and was about to explain. But he was dumbfounded when the girl took out her phone, and after taking two pictures, she left immediately.
The second person to stop was a middle-aged uncle, with his hands behind his back and wise eyes.
Walking to the calligraphy and painting, bending over and inspecting.
Wang Gu's throat surged, he thought that this person should be someone who knew the goods, and he wanted to speak.
The middle-aged uncle suddenly stood up straight, shook his head slightly, turned, and walked, ten steps later, a puzzled voice came, "This gallery has changed its writing. They are too idle, with that level of writing, they wanted to sell it for money? Tsk, it's not even as good as mine…"
When Wang Gu heard this, the muscles on his face twitched, and his heart was very angry.
The third person to stop was an old man. He looked kind and smiling, but with a few teeth missing from this mouth, it looked a little strange and funny.
He walked to the calligraphy and painting, squatted down looked at it carefully.
"Sir, the origin of this calligraphy is not simple…" Wang Gu said when he saw this, he thought it was an opportunity.
"Young fellow, this old man is illiterate, so how do I know what is written on it? I just think that the words on here are twisted and awkward, looking strange too. You have very little business in this shop, I advise you to take these two things in, otherwise, your business will really decline." After listening, the old man stood up, he smiled like a scholar as he almost made Wang Gu vomit blood.
This lasted for three hours, there were still no people who could recognize the two works.
With this changing of the world, most travelers only pursued fashion, and no one knew calligraphy and painting, which was actually normal.
Just when Wang Gu was disappointed and was about to take back the calligraphy and painting, three people walked out from the antique shop which was on the opposite side.
Their faces were cold and full of vigor; they came straight to Wang Gu.
Upon seeing the three, Wang Gu was shocked and quickly guarded the two babies behind him.
The old man walking in the forefront wanted to speak, but when he walked to the calligraphy and painting, after a short glance, his body suddenly stopped and his pupils began to enlarge. The turbulent momentum on his body disappeared instantly and replaced by a wave of amazed and shocked.
…
In the gallery, Ye Bei sat quietly at a table, watching the endless stream of the passerby, and he naturally saw this scene.
Just in his eyes, there were no joys and no worries, extremely calm and detached as if the calligraphy and painting had nothing to do with him.
Life is not just about what you achieve, it's about who you are and how you live.
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