Hangzhou Leifeng Tower

"""When the last ray of evening light penetrated the cracks in the remaining bricks of Leifeng Tower, the shadow of the tower transformed into a snake-shaped path paved with gold foil. Legend has it that this was the secret letter embroidered to Xu Xian with thousands of years of cultivation when the white lady was trapped at the bottom of the tower. The copper bells hanging from the eight eaves of the tower were originally formed from fragments of the cassock of the Dharma Sea. Whenever dusk closes, the bell tongue will gently lick the water mist of the West Lake, translating the Sanskrit sound of the "Hua Yan Sutra" into ripples that the fish can understand. The bookmark in your hand rubbings the sunset at the last moment before the collapse of the ancient tower in 1924: If you rotate at the angle of the light source, you can see that the words of the five dynasties scriptures sealed in the tower bricks are swimming like fireflies, and the shadow of the tower foundation actually appears in the shadow of the tower tower. Half a prophecy written by the Princess of Wu and Yue with gold powder-"I wish to use 84,000 towers to redeem the suffering of parting in the world." Looking closely at the shadow of the tower in the sunset, you can see a blue phoenix passing by with the remaining snow from the broken bridge. Wherever its wings swept, an amber gap in time and space burst open on the lake. There are sleeping golden Buddha statues buried in the underground palace by craftsmen during reconstruction in 2002, and a poem written by a modern poet who replaced the ever-burning lamp with mobile phone lights. When the afterglow of the sunset penetrates the hollow tower window on the bookmark, please pay attention to the dark patterns cast by the light and shadow on the page: the winding gold thread is not an ordinary pattern, but the last scale shed when the white snake breaks free from the tower. If you touch it with your fingertips, the scales will gradually light up, bringing you to hear the tremolo of the pen tip of the wolf's hair resonating with the wind on the eaves when Zhang Daqian was painting under the tower on a certain evening in 1943-"It turns out that suppression and redemption are nothing more than a touch of ochre and ultragreen." """