wild trail

Chapter 22 Drawings and Words

Wu Yun stood in front of the cliff and thought for a while, raised the charcoal in his hand and drew what happened today on the cliff. Although Wu Yun's drawing was very abstract, Wu Yun was completely immersed in his own world at the moment.

Wu Yun drew a picture on the cliff with a simple brush in his hand. It was four people standing under a big tree and looking up at the net hanging in mid-air. Unlike what he experienced during the day, the net was not empty. A long-horned animal curled up in the net, and Wu Yun felt that he had seen the future. At this moment, he felt that his soul seemed to no longer belong to him. This ethereal and illusory feeling made Wu Yun fall into a state of intoxication and madness.

Wu Yun drew for a long time, until the charcoal in his hand was used up, and the cliff wall was covered with complex patterns. Wu Yun looked at his own results, as if some unknown force touched his heart, and Wu Yun jumped up. A mysterious dance with strange songs sung.

The clansmen were awakened by Wu Yun's singing, and seeing Wu Yun's strange behavior in front of the cliff, they couldn't help but look at each other, not knowing what happened to Wu Yun.

People stood behind the dark clouds and looked at the patterns on the cliff. No one spoke. Except for the singing of the dark clouds, the surroundings seemed to be able to hear each other's heartbeats. The rock paintings became a language that could not be heard by the ears, but Those pictures seen by the eyes have made people understand the story that the dark cloud depicts.

Wang Lang also looked at the patterns on the rock wall in shock. He did not expect that he would witness the birth of a prehistoric art so suddenly. Wang Lang knew that art has magical power. It can link the hearts of human beings and share their hearts. Emotions, sorrows and joys.

Watching Wu Yun's crazy dance and listening to the mysterious ballad, Wang Lang understood that Wu Yun was performing a ceremony, and this primitive religious ceremony was to communicate with the gods.

Although in Wang Lang's view, this kind of behavior is no different from that of a mental patient, human civilization is not only science and technology, but also art and belief.

Wang Lang didn't interfere with Wu Yun's actions, and watched all this quietly. He could bring them a comfortable living environment, but the difference between human beings and animals is that human beings have their own spiritual world, and the power of this spirit cannot be denied. Qing Dao is unknown.

Wang Lang can use his own knowledge to create a religion, but art comes from the heart, which cannot be replaced by Wang Lang. A race needs to think and create to build a brilliant civilization.

Language can enable people to communicate and communicate, while pictures can pass on information. Although Wang Lang did not know the reason for creating characters in history, Wang Lang now understands that characters come from pictures and beliefs.

The tribe at this time is shrouded in a mysterious and solemn atmosphere, and people can experience the joy and sorrow of the dark clouds, as if the souls of all people are fused together, and they can share their moods with each other.

After a long time, Wu Yun stopped dancing and singing, and woke up from the mysterious state just now.

Looking at the crowd behind him, Wu Yun suddenly felt a wave of panic, with a little timidity in his eyes.

"Lang, did I do something wrong?" Wu Yun asked with some panic.

Wang Lang shook his head and said in a deep voice: "Don't worry, you didn't do anything wrong, you completed a great work, and we witnessed this great moment together, Wu Yun, you should be proud, you made history, you Future generations should remember your name."

Wu Yun felt a little uneasy. He just wanted to let the gods know his thoughts. Why did Wang Lang boast of himself so much, and his name should be remembered and sung by future generations. That is the glory that only gods can enjoy. How can mortals enjoy this honor.

"Lang, how can my name be passed down in the songs of later generations, won't it offend the gods and bring disasters?" Wu Yun said in fear.

Although the clansmen felt that Wu Yun's paintings were novel, but Wang Lang wanted Wu Yun's name to be passed down, this kind of thing was hard for them to accept, and they all agreed with Wu Yun.

"The gods are supreme. Can't you think of these paintings of the dark clouds as the guidance of the gods? The gods are watching us from the sky and the earth, sending wisdom in a way that we can hardly detect. Look at the pictures on the cliff, it records I think the gods want to let us pass on our experience in a certain way through the hands of the dark clouds, so that our future generations can know the sufferings and joys we have experienced, learn our skills, and understand all of us. Think about it." After Wang Lang finished speaking, he looked around at the crowd.

People are thinking about the meaning of Wang Lang's words. In the past, countless generations of inheritance have been passed down from hand to ear. This kind of recording their own wisdom in the form of paintings makes them feel very novel. If they had such paintings before, they would Knowing how the ancestors lived, it is a kind of inheritance that transcends time.

Wang Lang looked at the pictures on the cliff. The simple lines outlined the connection between the past, the present and the future. These people are no different from modern people. They all have rich inner worlds. Curiosity and imagination can make human beings become the masters of this world. dominate.

Human beings can only inherit with writing. In the previous history of the world, countless civilizations did not have their own writing, and these civilizations are all barbaric peoples without exception. Said to be the greatest creation of mankind.

Wang Lang does not intend to hand over modern characters to them. Doing so will be meaningless. After thousands of years of evolution, Chinese characters have lost the ability to see the meaning of the original pictographic characters. To teach these people to write, Wang Lang does not have the time. Not so much energy.

I only need to be a guide, and the rest needs to be created by these people. The name of Cangjie can be passed down in China for countless years, so Wu Yun only needs to use his talent for painting to create words, then he is the Cangjie of this time and space. How can his name not be remembered by future generations.

"Lang, what you said makes sense, but it's all a gift from the gods. How can dark clouds occupy the glory of the gods?" Jian Ya asked.

Wang Lang smiled and said: "The god chose Wu Yun, which means that Wu Yun has a talent recognized by the gods. In my dream, the god told me that he was just giving us hints, and it was more up to us. He didn't want us to become masters." People who sit back and enjoy what they get."

The clansmen frowned and thought, Wang Lang walked up to Wuyun, pointed to the painting on the cliff, and said, "Look at this animal, you didn't tell me what it is, but I can still tell it's a deer, you know why?"

Wu Yun said with some doubts: "What else can a deer be if it is a deer?"

Wang Lang didn't answer, bent down to pick up the charcoal that fell on the ground, drew a very abstract four-hoofed animal on the cliff, looked at the dark clouds and asked, "What do you think it is?"

Wu Yun stared at the animal carefully for a while, then shook his head.

Wang Lang picked up a paintbrush and drew two branch-like horns on the animal's head, and then asked Wu Yun, "How about this?"

Wu Yun stared at the pattern tightly, feeling a little enlightened in his heart, but the feeling that he wanted to catch it but couldn't catch it made Wu Yun very uncomfortable.

(End of this chapter)