Acai's Sky

Chapter 934: Wisdom Eyes Dreaming: The Rebirth of Nian Civilization 2

Awakening the Terracotta Warriors: The Rebirth of the Painted Military Formation

Outside the glass curtain wall of the Terracotta Warriors and Horses Pit, the exclamations of tourists can be faintly heard.

Zhitong squatted in the restoration area of ​​Pit 1, looking at the half-broken figurine in front of him. Only the torso below the chest cavity remained, and the cinnabar painting at the broken part had long since peeled off, revealing the grayish-white clay.

Tuantuan lay on the top of the pit, paws on the glass, looking down: "These clods of earth are older than me. Will it be difficult to repair them?"

"Difficult? This is a technical job!"

Zhitong lightly touched the broken neck of the terracotta figurine with his fingertips, and the primary paint suddenly turned into a microscope. When the lens swept across the broken end, nanometer-scale painted particles appeared on the screen.

"Look, these are traces of mineral pigments mixed with animal glue, and there's also a layer of raw lacquer underneath. It's even more sophisticated than modern paint!"

It flipped its wrist, and the brush sucked in the Qin Dynasty raw lacquer in the system's warehouse. It was a sample extracted from the Terracotta Warriors restoration site, and it copied the perfect original liquid.

When the raw lacquer was brushed onto the broken ends, the clay actually made a slight "sizzling" sound, as if awakening memories that had been dormant for two thousand years.

When repairing the armor of the terracotta warriors, Zhitong encountered a problem: only the edges of the diamond-shaped painted fragments remained, and the malachite green pigment in the middle had long been oxidized.

He closed his eyes and retrieved all the painted data of the Terracotta Warriors from his database. Suddenly, he remembered the bronze crane unearthed from the tomb west of the Mausoleum of Qin Shihuang. The painting technique on its feathers was exactly the same as that of the Terracotta Warriors.

The brush was suddenly dipped into the malachite green pigment mixed with bone glue, and the tip of the brush lightly dotted the armor, leaving a blank space the size of a grain of rice in the center of the diamond pattern. This was the "white space method" commonly used by Qin Dynasty craftsmen, which allowed the painting to show different levels under different light.

When the last stroke of ochre was used to depict the beard of the terracotta warrior, the entire pit suddenly glowed.

Zhitong looked at the terracotta warrior he had repaired and discovered that the depths of its pupils reflected the phantom of the Qin army's formation. That was when he was repairing it, he had inadvertently integrated the images of the Qin Dynasty battle formations recorded in the system into the terracotta warrior's clay memory through talismans.

What was even more amazing was that the adjacent broken pieces of the figurines began to automatically absorb the scattered fragments, as if the entire army formation had awakened under Zhitong's brush.

Suddenly, Tuantuan scurried down from the top of the pit, sniffed at the feet of the terracotta warriors, and suddenly looked up: "Little dwarf, did you give them the 'Soul-awakening Talisman'? I heard someone humming Qinqiang!"

Zhitong grinned and used the tip of his pen to draw the last rune on the chest of the terracotta warrior.

The next moment, the glass curtain wall of the entire terracotta pit suddenly became transparent. Tourists looked at the terracotta warriors under restoration in shock. They saw that the incomplete bodies were recovering at a speed visible to the naked eye, and the colorful paintings on the armor flowed under the light, as if the Qin army of a thousand years ago was passing through the mist of time to show the world their unfaded majesty.

Building the Great Wall Dream: The Long Song of Bricks and Stones

On the beacon tower of Badaling, Zhitong looked at the shrubs growing in the cracks of the wall, and the bullet holes on the brick wall looked like hideous wounds.

Tuan Tuan crouched on the parapet, clawing at a loose brick. "These broken bricks are older than my grandfather's grandfather. How can we repair them?"

"Use the 'Soul-Sewing Talisman'!" Zhitong took out a porcelain bottle filled with glutinous rice mortar from the Ming Dynasty. It was a sample collected from the Great Wall repair site, and it was a perfectly replicated adhesive after analysis.

The primary plaster turned into a fine needle, injecting mortar into every brick joint. The star-like light at the end of the needle actually traveled along the brick joints, reactivating the minerals in each brick.

When brushing the brick with the words "The Tenth Year of Wanli" engraved on it, Zhitong suddenly found a tiny dent on the side of the brick, like a fingerprint carved by a craftsman.

The tip of his pen trembled slightly as he filled the dent with a layer of gold powder, as if reintegrating the body temperature of the craftsman from five hundred years ago into the brick and stone.

When repairing the lookout of the beacon tower, Zhitong encountered a problem: the words "I was here" carved by modern tourists were deeply embedded in the bricks.

He frowned and cast a "mark erasing talisman", but stopped suddenly when the talisman light was about to cover the marks - although those marks were not beautiful, they were also a dialogue between tourists and the Great Wall in recent decades.

With a turn of the pen tip, a cloud-patterned border was drawn around the engraving, turning the abrupt handwriting into a ripple in the long river of history.

“Restore the old to its original state while also preserving the mark of time.”

It muttered to itself as its brush drew a quiver pattern for a garrison soldier on another brick, a pattern taken from Ming Dynasty weapons unearthed nearby.

When the last brick was put back in place, the green bricks of the beacon tower suddenly glowed green, and the glutinous rice mortar in the cracks between the bricks actually emitted a faint rice fragrance.

Tuantuan suddenly pricked up his dragon ears and stared at the mountains in the distance: "Little Dunzi, do you hear that? That's the neighing of a warhorse!"

Zhitong closed his eyes, as if he could really hear the sound of the Ming Dynasty garrison soldiers' clappers seeping out from the cracks in the bricks. The wind from the lookout blew through his hair, carrying the scent of war from a thousand years ago.

He watched the restored Great Wall winding in the twilight. Every scratch on the bricks and stones, every trace of repair, became a medal of time. This was not a simple restoration, but allowing the ancient wall to continue to tell its long song of war in the morning light of the new era.

When Zhitong and 朏朏·Tuantuan returned to Acai's residence, the space talismans on their wrists were already glowing, and all the repair talismans and high-grade spirit stones had been used up.

00541 squatted at the desk, holding a holographic projection in his chubby paws, and was checking the restored images sent back from various places: the flying apsaras of Dunhuang were dancing under the starry sky, a butterfly was resting on the palm of the giant Buddha of Longmen, the crabapples that had not been seen for a century were blooming beside the fountain of the Old Summer Palace, modern drones were parked in front of the military formations of the Terracotta Warriors and Horses Pit, and tourists were taking photos of the restored bricks in amazement on the beacon towers of the Great Wall.

"Master, look!" Zhitong shook his wrist excitedly, and the space talisman on the bracelet suddenly emitted a golden light. It turned out to be a thank-you letter from the Forbidden City. Under the effect of the talisman, those restored ancient monuments produced a wonderful resonance with modern monitoring systems and cultural relics protection technologies.

Ah Cai looked at the image on the projection, and a relieved smile finally appeared on the corner of her mouth: "Remember, restoration is not about changing, but about keeping the memory of civilization alive forever in time."

Outside the window, moonlight sprinkled on the talisman paper that had not yet dried on the desk. Ah Cai picked up the pen and prepared to draw the next batch of return talismans.

Zhitong lay on the furry back of 朏朏·Tuantuan, looking at the brush head of the [Primary Powder Brush] still flashing with star-like light. He knew that in some corner of the Chinese land, there were countless traces of civilization waiting to be reborn, waiting for his brush to awaken stories that had been sleeping for thousands of years.