The pen is smart > 자유게시판

Wei Ting-kuo took out another flashlight from his bosom and handed it to Monk Peter. "Come with me." Then he turned and walked away. Monk Peter hesitated for a moment, flicked the flashlight switch, and followed closely. The two men walked slowly down the edge of the inkstone and down a narrow rock path like sheep intestines to the stage. The two beams of light swayed from side to side, making the moss around them glow faintly. Monk Peter can now see clearly that this "inkstone" platform is a stretch from the rock wall, which is actually half suspended in the air. It is surrounded by a huge rock space, which is deep and secluded. The top of the craggy rocks and the bottom of the cave are at least forty or fifty meters high from the inkstone platform in midair, with uneven rock surfaces in all directions, overlapping peaks and ridges, and gray-white rock branches extending into the infinite darkness beyond the reach of light, layer upon layer, which at first seems to be undulating and turbulent sea, and is fixed by God's remote control in an instant. And then collapse inward to form such a wonderful world. If seen from the side, the platform looks like a small flying saucer in the universe, and the moss in the distance is like stars. The boundless horizon can only give people a sense of "vastness." A huge space with closed boundaries is more likely to cause people to panic. Those visible but unreachable cliffs are high up and down, left and right, forming a vast void, reflecting the insignificance of the observer and the awe that arises spontaneously, making people feel like Pangu Dome at the beginning of chaos. What surprised him most was the top of the round inkstone,smart interactive whiteboard, a long stalactite hanging from the zenith, the whole body was dark, a pillar holding up the sky, like a pine smoke ink column, the bottom of the stalactite from time to time there were drops of water on the round inkstone. It is like an invisible hand gently picking up the ink column and grinding it gently in the inkstone hall, and then slowly lifting it, so that the ink drops are still thick and the beads are on the bottom of the inkstone. A natural picture of "moving ink on an inkstone.". It would be too delicate to say that it was made by heaven and earth,interactive kiosk price, and how much energy would it take to carve such a statue if it was made by human beings. Monk Peter took a deep breath of air and felt a chill in his lungs. He had never thought that there was such a magical place hidden in the ridge backed by Neizhuang. In this way, I would also like to thank the shallow ditch on the inkstone. Had it not been for those grooves that induced him to turn around on the platform, I'm afraid he would have fallen to the bottom of the valley. It has been hundreds of years since the Wei family moved here, and only a thousand people have been lucky enough to enter here. This is a natural karst cave, and it is also a gift from God to our ancestors of the Wei family. It is a rare tourist resource. If it is well developed, it is estimated that its popularity will not be inferior to that of Benxi Water Cave and Guilin Reed Flute Rock. According to preliminary estimates, the direct income from tourism alone can bring us one million yuan a year. Wei Dingguo said as he walked, shining his flashlight around with great interest, and his voice buzzed in the empty cave. The more nonchalant he was, the more suspicious Monk Peter was behind him, but for the moment he could only follow. They walked in the dark for about 20 minutes. The terrain was high and low, and it was extremely difficult to walk. The so-called "road" was just a line of flat land sandwiched between the sharp edges of the rocks. The sound of the wind in the top of the head became louder and louder, and the aura became thicker and thicker. It is several times stronger than the concentration at the entrance of the hidden pen hole. The two men walked out of the rocky mountain along the narrow path formed by the cliff. The terrain here is still flat, touch screen kiosk ,digital signage screen, the rock walls on both sides rise like terraces, and the slope is very gentle. In a small open space before the convergence of the two slopes, there stands a huge ancient stone tablet, under which the beast is a stone unicorn, which is very rare in ancient tablets. Also written on the tablet are four big characters: "Wei's Pen Tomb." "This is it." Wei Ting-kuo suddenly stood still and held up his flashlight. "My elder brother once asked me to bring you here. My mission has been completed." "Where is this?" Asked Monk Peter. "You can see for yourself." Monk Peter raised his flashlight and waved it to the mountain walls on both sides. It turned out that there were many rock niches on the stone slope, just like the caves in northern Shaanxi. The shapes were neat and uniform, and they were all semi-oval. At first glance, they were artificially excavated. There seemed to be figures in many rock niches. Monk Peter took a flashlight and shone it carefully. He was startled and took two steps back.
Beneath the light was a skeleton in a robe, whose bones were yellow and shining, as if mixed with minerals. The posture of the skeleton was very strange. Its legs were scattered in the niche, its hands were clasped, and its whole body was arched forward, as if to bend itself into a cage. The top of the niche was also engraved with handwriting, but it was impossible to see it clearly without getting close. Monk Peter hurriedly used his flashlight to sweep the other rock niches, one by one. These skeletons wear different clothes, including plain robes, Confucian clothes, Mandarin jackets, long gowns, even Zhongshan suits, suits, and even Ming and Qing Dynasty clothes. Some of the clothes were so old that only a few strands of coarse cloth remained on the bones. Each skeleton keeps such a posture, concentrating on sitting upright in the niche deep in the cave of hidden pens, as if guarding something. Monk Peter's terror faded away, and he felt the indescribable solemnity of everything in front of him. "Is this.." "Not bad." Wei Ting-kuo turned and knelt down before the tablet. After three solemn kowtows, he stood up and said, "This is the place where the ancestors of the Wei family buried their bones and pens, and where the tomb of the Wei family's pens is located." Monk Peter was stunned for a moment. He walked to the front of the monument and put his hands together. He bowed deeply, but his eyes kept looking at the corpses in the distance. He felt his breath flowing, and his mood became inexplicably excited. "People live and die," said Wei Dingguo, "but the spirit of the pen is immortal. When the pen-tomb officials of the ancestors of the past Dynasties realized that their time was approaching, they would enter the pen-hiding cave by themselves, choose a niche and die, and use their last spiritual power to encircle their bodies into pen-hanging. When the pen spirit breaks away from the body, it is attached to the corpse, waiting for the arrival of the next master to liberate it. Over the past several hundred years, life has been renewed from generation to generation, but the spirit of the pen has gone round and round, recognizing the Lord here and returning here. Monk Peter noticed that there was a faint light in the arms of some skeletons, presumably the pen spirits collected by the Wei family. These former heroes,digital signage kiosk, literati or ordinary people turned into skeletons in the dark underground and spent hundreds of years in silence in the dark, silently guarding the existence of the pen spirit and the Wei family. When Monk Peter thought of this festival, he felt even more respectful. hsdtouch.com