Chapter 6 engraved leak

I poked my head into a large pile of messy sundries. In the patio, these old photo albums, old picture frames, old books, and old tools used by my grandpa were tossed by my hands, as if they had been frozen for dozens of years. The dust of the year spurted out all of a sudden, flying in the sun, like an insoluble fog, covering my field of vision. It took me a long time to catch my breath from the erratic dust, my eyes were pulled down by the mist of dust, and I fell heavily among the messy old things, as if I could really hear the cement that fell decades ago with a bang superior.Actually, not cement, but a cylinder, the guy hiding under those old magazines from the fifties.

I stretched out my hand and pulled it out. It was big and heavy, almost half a meter high. In the dust flying under the sun, the gray wooden cylinder suddenly shone with a little luster.I turned on the faucet in the patio, and the white water washed over the wooden tube, and the sound was like autumn rain hitting the old wooden eaves.When the dust of decades or longer disappeared into the sewer along with the running water, the wooden tube revealed a blue skin, like a young woman after a bath.I found that the body shape of this watery beauty is very monotonous, without the exquisite curves of a young woman, but a straight body, a standard cylinder, as if it has been calculated geometrically.Finally, when I took a closer look at the bottom of the cylinder, I realized that the metaphor of a young woman was completely absurd, and that it should be compared to a little boy in crotch pants.Near the bottom of the cylinder, a small mouth a few centimeters protruded out, just like the small teapot spout of Yixing Zisha teapot, but its opening was much smaller than the teapot spout.

The appearance of this thing is really strange. I thought about it for a long time but couldn't figure out what it was.If it is a container, how can a small hole be opened below it.Then I put the water into the cylinder, and the full cylinder of clear water was rippling, splashing on my face from time to time, and the sunlight refracted on the water surface was a bit dazzling.So I turned around and continued to poke my head into the dust. After a while, I suddenly heard a very soft sound of water, the sound of water droplets falling on the ground, so soft that people thought it was the blood flowing in the blood vessels near my eardrum.When I turned around, some water had accumulated on the ground, and amidst the dust all over the ground, the palm-sized water had swelled up thickly, like a small island made of water, while the ground was a vast ocean.Another drop, the crystal water drop first hung in the small mouth under the cylinder like foreign bubbles, until it got bigger and heavier, and then it broke free from the big drop under the action of gravity. The shackle of the hole with a slightly larger needle eye made a free fall movement.It was like jumping from a three-meter diving board into a diving pool, gracefully falling into the companions below, and immediately melting away without a trace like a fish entering the water.Then, another drop, I checked the second hand of the watch, and the interval between each drop was the same, a full 5 seconds.

In this sunny noon, the dust danced under the strong sun. Standing in the patio, I seemed to be able to see something from the depths of the dust.So, I spent half a day to do it myself, using the old tools that my grandfather used. Those tools made decades ago are of very good quality, they are not rusted, and they are easy to use.I'm a person with relatively clumsy hands, and I've struggled with the messy and varied materials, and finally finished my project when the sun was about to disappear.In fact, this "project" is very simple. A basically airtight white iron cover is added to the cylinder. A small hole is opened in the center of the cover. A thin and long wooden stick passes through the small hole. Small pieces of Styrofoam that float on the water inside the cylinder.

Then I engraved a number mark every centimeter on the straight small stick, and then started to adjust the watch. With the dripping of the small mouth below, I recorded the position of the number mark on the stick every minute.That is to say, when water is dripping evenly below, the water surface in the cylinder will drop evenly, and the foam block floating on the water surface will also drop with the wooden stick, so the time can be known according to the change of the scale on the wooden stick .I know that our ancestors called this stick "arrow", this cylinder "pot", and all these things together are called "carved leak".

I was alone in the courtyard, guarding a lot of sundries and dust, turned on the light, and added water to my chisel again and again, and the water dripped out of the small mouth, and the "arrow" fell slowly, "the arrow" The scale on the top records the time until the water in the "pot" is exhausted.I watched with eyes wide open like a schoolboy, and there was only 37 seconds of difference between the hour on the clock and the hour on my watch.But in the second hour, the engraved leak was 8 minutes and 51 seconds slower than my watch. I understand that this is because of the water pressure. The lower the water level in the "pot", the lower the water pressure, and the lower the dripping speed. Slower, so this is a clock that goes slower and slower.

At this time, I raised my head, and the moon in the sky was so round, like the face of a big clock.When I lowered my head, I seemed to see a Chinese sailing ship sailing north on the gray East China Sea—— The Chinese cabin smelled of sweat, just like the cabins and sailors of any country in the world. A person who has sailed from the Atlantic to the Pacific has long been used to it.The cabin was opened, a faint earthy smell came from the air, and the land was not far away. A Franciscan missionary had crawled out of the cabin exhausted, his face frighteningly pale and his cheeks covered with thick black stubble, after being shut up in the dark for too long.He saw a piece of gray water and sky, and he was told that he had entered the Yangtze River now. He had never seen such a wide river before, and then the Chinese brig turned into an inland river, meandering in the dense river network in the south of the Yangtze River in China Serpentine driving, and finally parked at the edge of a bustling city.

He walked into this city with his huge baggage on his back, and he knew where he was going. In that dark cabin, he was sure that God had pointed out the direction for him, and he followed the path arranged by God in the dark. Road to meet that person.He came from far away Portugal, crossed the Cape of Good Hope, crossed Goa, studied Chinese in Macau, and then boarded a Chinese sailboat to spread the gospel of God.He passed through the bustling crowd, and everyone stopped to watch him. In front of a huge mansion, he found the place he was going to. This is the 17th century. Master Liu met the missionary in the living room.He was amazed that there were people with such looks in the world, and he walked around the missionary carefully.It was found that there was a string of chains hanging on the guy's chest, and a skinny person was engraved on the chain pendant, with his hands stretched out like a "ten".The master wondered how miserable this foreign god was compared to the chubby Bodhisattva in our temple.

What surprised the master was that the barbarian actually spoke Chinese. Although it was vague, it was enough for Chinese people to understand.Then the big hairy hands of the missionary reached into his knapsack, fiddled with the big knapsack for a long time, and finally grabbed a long cylinder, one big and the other small, and then he put the small end into the master's in front of you.The master was a bit puzzled, but to show his courtesy, he took a closer look, only to find that the cylinder was hollow, and through the cylinder, he could see the screen wall outside the living room, but the screen wall seen in the cylinder seemed to be more It was several times bigger than usual, which made the master break out in a cold sweat.Then he lowered the cylinder, and the screen wall returned to its original state.

"What kind of sorcery is this?" "A binoculars." Then, the missionary reached into the big backpack again, lowered his head and rummaged for a long time, and took out a small bottle.The master has never seen this kind of bottle, neither celadon nor white porcelain, but completely transparent.The small bottle is filled with pink water, gently rippling, like a woman's eyes.Then, the missionary opened the bottle cap, and the master immediately smelled a strong fragrance that filled the living room.The master knew that it was coming from the bottle, and he put his nose close to the small bottle. The smell reminded him of the unforgettable years when he was young when he was studying in the Nanjing Imperial College, and went to the painting boats on the Qinhuai River to search for flowers and ask willows every night.

"Quickly put the cap on the bottle, I'm old, I don't dare to smell this smell anymore." The master said anxiously, but his cheeks turned red. The missionary crossed himself on his chest, and while capping the bottle, he told the master that it was called perfume. He reached into his knapsack again, and this time the master stared at his hand carefully as the missionary conjured up a round ball, about the size of a child's head, with a few sticks beside it and under it. The shaft is supported.With just a push by that furry hand, the ball started to spin by itself, and it took several laps before it stopped.The master looked at the ball curiously, and found that it was colorful, mainly blue, followed by red, yellow and green, and densely packed with foreign characters. "This is a globe." "What is Earth?" "It's the world we live in, this land." The master wanted to laugh in his heart, how could the earth be round, if it was on the other side of the sphere, wouldn't people fall down?But he didn't say it, and smiled slightly at the missionary. The missionary continued to reach into the bag, and this time he took out a thick book. "The Bible." He closed his eyes and said these two words reverently. When he opened his eyes, he found that the master was greedily staring at the magical backpack. "Isn't it a treasure chest?" The master said to himself secretly. That night the missionary slept in the guest room specially arranged by Master Liu.The exquisite mahogany furniture and the large and comfortable bed gave him a good night's sleep for the first time, but he didn't know how to use the mosquito net, so he woke up with several red spots on his body the next day.He knew that the rich old Chinese man was thinking about his big backpack, so he knew he would be received warmly by them.He said early prayers in the courtyard in the early morning, and ate a breakfast sent by the master, which was nothing more than flatbread fried dough sticks and a bowl of tofu nao, but he was still surprised by the generosity of the host, because in Portugal, even No king can eat such a good breakfast. Then he took a walk in the huge maze-like garden, among the Taihu stones and secluded ponds, and he began to think about his missionary plan.Suddenly, a child stopped him, perhaps a little book boy, and he followed the child through a moon gate into a more secluded garden.There is a house at the end of the garden.Walking into the house, the child suddenly disappeared, and the missionary became a little uneasy. He began to think whether the Chinese would lure him here to get the backpack he left in the guest room? At this time, a young man in this story appeared, about twenty years old, with an indescribable smile on his mouth.He asked the missionary to go with him.The missionary was a little puzzled. He followed the young man through the room full of bookcases. Behind a screen, the young man opened another door.It turned out that there was a courtyard behind the door.The courtyard is divided into several open spaces by several groups of small flowerpots. In the first clearing, he saw a large disc carved out of stone, like a wheel, engraved with straight lines radiating from the center to the surroundings, and marked with Chinese characters on the side.A metal "needle" was erected in the center of the disc, pointing long to the sky.The sun suddenly broke free from the thick clouds, and the radiant light shone into the courtyard, onto the missionary's long eyelashes, and also onto the stone disc, so the shadow of the vertical "needle" Just lying on a certain radiation line on the disc. "Sir, at noon, the shadow will fall on the straight line directly above." The young man explained in a soft tone. In the second clearing, he saw a tall wooden frame, made into the shape of steps, with a total of five steps, each half as tall as a person.On each level there is a copper cylinder, four down from the highest cylinder, each has a small mouth at the bottom, and a slender stick protrudes from the bottom cylinder. .The missionary observed carefully for a moment, and found that the bottom stick was slowly rising, revealing the scales. On the third open space, the missionary saw a large scale fixed on an iron pole.Like all scales used by the Chinese, but this one is many times larger than normal.Scales, hooks, and scales are all available, but there is a bucket of water hanging on the weighing end, and there is a cylinder that is constantly dripping on the bucket of water.The cylinder is the same as the several cylinders seen before, and the water is evenly dripped into the bucket below through the small mouth.There is more and more water in the bucket, so the scale on the scale beam that catches the bucket changes. In the fourth open space, the missionary first saw a funnel, and the sand flowed out evenly from the funnel, hitting a gear. There are four such gears in total, and one drives the other to rotate.The last gear drives the gear that rotates on the horizontal plane. There is a pointer on the axis of this gear, and the pointer rotates on an instrument disc with engraved lines. Suddenly, two lifelike wooden figures appear on the disc. They beat a small drum and made a pleasant sound. "The time has come," said the young man softly. The fifth open space is a round ball, which is actually similar to the globe brought by the missionaries, except that this Chinese globe is constantly rotating driven by dripping water. In fact, it does not represent the earth, but the universe. There is a sixth open space, a seventh... At noon, the drum in the little wooden man's hand rang again, and the strange and unfamiliar sound made the missionary a little bit at a loss.He felt that he came all the way to this magical country written by Marco Polo not for the Gospel, but for these ancient timers. The midday sun shone directly on his brow, and the dripping water dripped regularly in his ears. At this moment, he touched the things in his chest and asked, "Young man, what's your name?" "Ziyan." Ziyan is the only son of the Liu family. My family has a three-five-brand big clock, which was made in Shanghai. It was bought when my parents got married. At that time, almost every family would buy a clock of this brand when they got married.This clock is struck every hour, for example, once at 1 o'clock, twelve times at 12 o'clock, and once every half an hour.These bells are very loud, and it really has the artistic conception of singing in the middle of the night, but in the middle of the night, the twelve bells sound terrible, like the bells of the doomsday. I live alone in a house now, and there are many newly bought clocks at home, all of which have no sound, and the quality is quite good. Due to various reasons, it has escaped all previous catastrophes, and has been lingering until now.But maybe it is me who is really unlucky, because I have to be tortured by this bell every night. In the middle of the night, the huge bell is almost earth-shattering, and I often wake up from my dream when I am sleeping in the bed.And even if it is not the whole hour or the half hour, the sound of the second hand running in three to five minutes is much louder than that of ordinary clocks. Sometimes I even feel that I am in a temple, the sound of the second hand is like an old monk endlessly knock on the wooden fish.Several times I couldn't bear it anymore, and deliberately broke the three-five clock, so that I could sleep peacefully, but after a few days, the three-five clock miraculously healed itself, as if it was alive. But if I really want to throw it away, I am a little reluctant. The sound of the wooden fish-like second hand makes me sleepless, but when I really can’t hear that sound one day, maybe I will be even more sleepless at night, maybe I can never get rid of it. The missionary lived in this city for a year and became the most honored guest of the Liu family. Of course, the premise was that the master got something in the missionary's magical backpack as he wished.But the missionary decided to leave here, and the master had already got the perfume, the telescope, the glass ball, and the tobacco, and he didn't want to listen to the missionary's chattering Bible anymore.So, on a fragrant night, the missionary disappeared from the city.In a book compiled by the Franciscans, there is a record of him going to Beijing to preach, but there are also rumors that he went to Japan, or Mongolia, or even Tibet. The last person to see him was Ziyan. In fact, the missionary deliberately bid farewell to Ziyan before leaving.In Ziyan's room, neither of them spoke. In the silence, only the sound of dripping water was so clear, but this weak sound filled the whole room.It took a long time for the missionary to recover from the sound. He carefully groped in his large black cassock, and finally found a small and exquisite chime bell. He stuffed the chime clock into Ziyan's palm.Said softly: "Give it to you." Then he drew a cross on Ziyan's head, then turned around and went out, leaving here forever. Before Ziyan could get out in time, the missionary had already disappeared into the night.Ziyan returned to the lamp and carefully looked at the chime clock, which was small enough to fit in a sleeve or pocket.Heavy, made of Mexican silver.Under the glass surface, there are two pointers, one long and one short, and there are Roman numerals on the clock face.Ziyan could hear the sound from the heart of the chiming clock, it was the oldest ticking sound, and it sounded at the same time as the dripping water of the clock leak, so similar.He closed his eyes, and the sound of the bell and the chile hit his eardrums at the same time, so he had a dream. When Ziyan woke up, another year had passed. In addition to the sound of clocks and dripping water day after day, there was suddenly a burst of violent artillery fire, and a huge noise sounded from all around the city.He looked out the window blankly, the black smoke mixed in the night, and the blazing fire in the distance.Father rushed towards him, yelling in dismay that the Manchurians were coming, he took Ziyan's hand and ran out. Among the countless fleeing crowd that night, Ziyan was dragged by his father towards the city gate.Suddenly he remembered something, shouted, turned around, his father grabbed him firmly, and said, "Son, don't worry about your rags!" His father looked at him with almost pleading eyes, and suddenly his father's expression changed, his eyeballs began to protrude, and his mouth opened wide.Only then did Ziyan realize that there was a hole in his father's chest suddenly, and a spear in the hand of a Manchurian riding a horse was thrusting from his back to his chest.Father finally let go of Ziyan's hand, and fell down slowly. His face became blurred, and he sank into the sea of ​​night together with the bottle of perfume hidden in his sleeve.Ziyan was immediately squeezed away by the raging crowd, he couldn't do anything, just like a piece of wood floating on the water, drifting with the current and being submerged by the turbulent night. A few days later, the Manchus stopped massacring the city, and Ziyan returned to the city.His home was a heap of rubble, with ashes and the bodies of his servants strewn about.The labyrinthine garden was gone, and only the walls of his room remained. He saw that the sundial in the first open space in the courtyard behind the house had been smashed, the solid stone disk divided into six pieces, probably by firearm blasting; A "pot" may have been used as a toilet by the Manchurians; there is also an ingenious scale leak in the third open space, the beam of which has been broken into two; the fourth open space should be the five-wheel hourglass created by Zhan Xiyuan, Now there are only two little wooden figures lying on the ground looking at him; and the leaky armillary sphere invented by Zhang Heng has become a semicircle. Ziyan walked out silently, when he walked into the rubble of his room, he suddenly heard a familiar voice.This made something in his heart warm up again. He listened carefully, and it came from under his feet, in the rubble.He followed the sound and lay down on the rubble, and dug the bricks with his fingers until his fingers were covered with blood. He finally found the source of the sound deep under his feet——the silver shell on his blood-stained hands trembling, reflecting the midday sun. "How beautiful." Ziyan said to himself with the chime bell in his hand. "tick".Chime Bell is the last survivor. Ziyan stuffed the chime clock into her arms and left the city.He was walking on the path in the south of the Yangtze River, and there were many corpses in the wild, so he took a boat and went to the depths of the mainland along the winding waterway.The weather was getting colder and colder, and after a while, it was snowing. In the snowflakes all over the sky, Zi Yan, who was dressed in single clothes, shivered from the cold, curled up in a corner of the cabin.Through his clothes, he tried to figure out the chime clock hidden in his chest. His skin could feel the operation of the chime clock movement, the slight sound like his own heartbeat, and sometimes he even mistakenly thought that he had grown two heart. The river became shallower and shallower, and the boat could no longer move, so he got off the boat. Ziyan saw the hills in the distance and the withered and yellow tea trees covered with white snow on the hillside, so he collected himself and walked up the hill.This place is already very desolate, and there is no one to be seen in the endless hills. The further he goes, the higher the mountains become, until he enters a vast mountain from the hills.Ziyan didn't know where he was going, he had no home anymore, he just felt that he should go like this, as if something was waiting for him ahead. Then he heard the bell, and the sound of the bell, far and loud, came from the woods ahead.He took out the chime clock from his pocket in a panic. It was the hour of You, and the sun had already set.With his last bit of strength, he ran to the place where the bell rang, and in the depths of the dense forest, he saw the ancient bell temple. Pushing open the crumbling door, Ziyan saw a big pavilion in the temple, a big bell was hung in the pavilion, and there was a monk in his fifties beside the bell.Ziyan originally thought that his reckless intrusion would surprise the old monk, but the monk looked at him so calmly, it was a little scary. The old monk smiled and said loudly: "You are finally here." "I'm finally here?" Ziyan didn't understand, he felt that this sentence was meaningful, but he didn't want to figure it out, he knew he couldn't figure it out, "Okay, I'm here, if I can come, I won't gone?" "Come when you want, leave when you want." Ziyan was very satisfied with the old monk's answer. "Teacher, is there an omission here?" "No." "Then why does your clock strike so punctually?" "Does it need a reason? I have been ringing this bell for forty years." Ziyan walked up to the big clock, and stroked the face of the clock with his hands. It was made of copper and was extremely strong, as if it lived in symbiosis with the sun, the moon, and all things.Several lines of Sanskrit are engraved on the black clock face. Suddenly Ziyan knelt down and buried his head on the old monk's shoes: "Please, shave me." "Grow your hair, you're only dreaming." Today I woke up from a dream in a daze, the sun has already shone on my bed, my God, it is at least 7:30 now, I usually get up at 6 o'clock, why, the alarm clock didn't go off, I'm hard Shaking it carefully, looking at the time, it turned out that the alarm clock had stopped.I looked at it for three to five minutes, but it stopped no matter what. I couldn't control it so much, so I rushed out the door and called a taxi to go to the unit cruelly, but I was still late. After get off work, I was a little absent-minded. I walked around Huaihai Road a few times. I saw an hourglass in the window of a gift shop. It is usually used as a gift by people. The sand flows in the glass endlessly. It's like blood circulation, I stared at it for a long time, until I got a little dizzy before turning back.It was too late, I raised my wrist to look at my watch, and then I found that my watch had also stopped. When I got home, I took out the hourglass I had made, filled it with water, and did some processing so that it could keep timekeeping throughout the day and night.I was a little confused, staring blankly at the drops of water dripping slowly, I was attracted by this thing again, and felt that my mind suddenly became blank, a piece of white paper, pale and stretched, lying lazily On a surface of water, this surface is time. The next morning, I was late again, and if I was five minutes late, five yuan would be deducted according to regulations.On the third day, I was late for 15 minutes and deducted fifteen yuan.On the fourth day, I was 1 hour late, and the rebate made me miserable.I understand that this is because my clock is getting slower and slower, but I really feel that my time is getting slower and slower. I looked up at the moon again, and the moon is also late. Today is sixteen Now, it's just round. On the long mountain path, Ziyan was walking with two buckets of water. His shoulders were not as thin as those of the frail scholar back then, but became thick and powerful, holding the pole firmly.He has grown a long beard, his face has creased wrinkles, and he has added a lot of gray hair prematurely to his temples.He carried the water back to the temple and poured the water into the water tank. Ziyan has lived here for twenty years, and there are only him and the old monk in the huge temple. Every day at Maoshi and Youshi, the old monk would come to ring the bell, and every time Ziyan would quietly look at the self-ringing bell in his arms.He found that the old monk was like a clock, always on time.You hour is here again, and the melodious bell rang again on time.And his chime bell is always with him, never leaving his body, even sleeping on his chest at night.If there is no beating of the chime bell at any time, he will wonder whether his heartbeat has stopped. In short, the self-ringing bell has become one with him, or in other words, Ziyan is the self-ringing bell, and the self-ringing bell is Ziyan, just like the old monk is the ancient bell, and the ancient bell is the old monk. "Ziyan." The old monk called Ziyan by name.Ziyan came to him and saw that he had come down from the clock, walked into the main hall, and sat cross-legged in front of the Buddha statue. "Zi Yan, you have been here for twenty years, do you really understand?" "Master, what do you want me to understand?" "From the first time you came here, I hope you can understand. I want to see your heart?" "Look at my heart?" Ziyan took a step back, looked at the Buddha statue, and then touched his own heart, but what he felt was only the movement of the clock's movement.Ziyan lowered his head, and the burning incense sent the lingering light smoke into his nostrils, and then penetrated his whole body through the trachea.He felt that his chest was suddenly covered by the cigarette, so he tore off his shirt suddenly, and the chime bell was safely placed on his heart, "Master, I have no heart, my heart is just This clock." "After all, your dream is about to wake up." The old monk said with a slight smile, "Go back to your room and go to sleep. Tomorrow morning, you and your heart will wake up together." Ziyan returned to the room, fell asleep immediately, and soon fell asleep. He slept soundly and deeply, as if he had never enjoyed such a wonderful sleep since he was born. Before Mao time, he woke up on time, and he had already developed the habit of getting up and cleaning the temple before the old monk rang the bell.But he didn't hear the bell for a long time. He was a little strange. When he came to the ancient clock, there was no one.Then he walked into the main hall, only to find that the old monk continued to sit cross-legged on the futon, with his eyes closed and motionless, like an old clock. "Master." The old monk didn't respond, Ziyan touched him lightly, only to find that the old monk had passed away while sitting. Ziyan cried a lot, and then cremated the old monk. He thought that the old monk would keep the relics, but there was not even a bone residue, only a piece of light dust was blown into the sky by the west wind. Ziyan went back to the ancient bell temple alone. Looking at the ancient clock, he always felt that the Sanskrit engraved on the clock would come down and talk to him.He took out the chime clock again, and found that it was still a certain time, but now it was almost dusk, so it should be unitary time.He thought it was wrong, and another hour later, when the sky was already full of stars, the chiming clock unexpectedly showed Yin time, which was actually an hour backward from a certain time.Ziyan thought, why did the chiming clock suddenly go backwards.He turned his head, looked at the majestic Buddha statue in the main hall, then put the chiming clock back to his heart, and said to himself, have I woken up from my dream? Ziyan decided to leave here, he went down the mountain. He walked through the mountain road again, walked out of the vast mountains, and out of the mountains were hills, the hills were full of tea leaves, it was the tea picking season, and the tea pickers were busy working.Walking out of the hills, there was a small river in a plain, but it was just enough for a passenger ship to pass. He jumped on the passenger ship. The owner of the ship was still in his original attire, singing cheerful boat songs and carrying him to the water town in the south of the Yangtze River.After passing through the endless rice fields, I didn't know how long it took to drive, and finally arrived at the city of Ziyan's hometown. To his surprise, the city was still as prosperous as before, and the flag of the Ming Dynasty was still hanging at the gate of the city. He followed the merchants from south to north into the city, and walked through the streets crowded with merchants. He saw his past. Home.He couldn't believe that it was exactly the same as it was twenty years ago. He thought it must have been repaired by a different owner.He didn't dare to go in through the gate, but walked around the high wall and saw a side door ajar.So he went in quietly, and found that the garden inside was the same as in the past, almost every tree and every flower hadn't changed.He came to the most secluded place, that was the room he lived in, and it was still there. He had seen it become a ruin with his own eyes.He walked into the room, where there were still several large bookcases, and the same books he liked to read.At the back of the house, in the garden, he saw his sundial, five-step hourglass, scale leak, five-wheel hourglass, and leaky armillary sphere, all of which were there, without missing a single one.Water continued to drip from the hourglass, and the pointer on the dial of the five-wheeled hourglass was still running accurately. Ziyan really couldn't understand, he didn't know who made these things out again, maybe it was a big coincidence, the new owner had the same hobbies as Ziyan.Just when he was thinking hard but had no results, he suddenly heard someone calling his name in the room, who would call my name? Ziyan returned to the room, and he saw his father. That's right, it's my father, there's absolutely nothing wrong with it, and it hasn't changed at all from twenty years ago. Could it be that he didn't die back then?Ziyan opened his mouth wide in surprise, he wanted to express the doubts in his heart, but he didn't dare, just kept trembling. "Ziyan, what's the matter with you? You're fine for lunch, come with me, a guest is here." His father took Ziyan's hand and walked out. Ziyan couldn't control himself anymore. He was pulled by his father. went to the living room. In a long corridor leading to the living room, there is a mirror inlaid. Ziyan walked past the mirror and looked at the mirror. He saw in the mirror a twenty-year-old boy with a fair and tender face and a clean chin. No beard.Who is this person, Ziyan thought for a long time, and finally he remembered that this person is himself, the self from twenty years ago.He touched his face again, the rough wrinkles were gone, the long beard was gone, and the hair was neatly combed. Ziyan was a little silly, but he was dragged into the living room by his father. In the living room, he saw a Portuguese missionary.The missionary wears a black robe with a necklace of crosses around his neck and carries a huge backpack.He unbuttoned his knapsack and took out a telescope, a bottle of perfume, a globe, a Bible, and finally, a chime clock.The missionary walked up to Ziyan, smiled and put the bell into Ziyan's hand, and said in fluent Chinese: "Young man, this is for you." "No, I already have." Ziyan put his hand into his arms, but there was nothing. Where is my chime bell? Then Ziyan looked at the clock given to him by the current missionary.The heavy ones are made of Mexican silver.Under the glass surface, there are two pointers, one long and one short, and there are Roman numerals on the clock face.It is exactly the same as the original.Ziyan took a step back, looked at his father, looked at the missionary, he wanted to cry, but couldn't cry, then he quickly ran back to his room with the chime clock, and fell asleep amidst the sound of the bell and the dripping water. catch... My clock tick is still counting for me, listening to the dripping sound of writing, I feel like I’m curled up in bed during the rainy season, listening to the sound of raindrops hitting the awning at night, listening This sound always gives me strange dreams.Well, now I can tell you that I am writing a novel, but I am not sure whether I should continue to write it, or just end it with Ziyan going home to sleep.I don't know if that counts as the end, or maybe there is no end at all.I originally planned to arrange a relationship for Ziyan, in that ancient temple, with a widow who went to the grave of her husband, but I think this is redundant, because Ziyan fell in love with time, and if possible, he would marry time For wife. But I can't be like Ziyan, I still have to live. 我新买了一个闹钟，包装上特别强调了是用墨西哥的银做的，我不懂这样强调究竟有什么重要性。当然，这个闹钟的质量还是不错的，次日一早，准时地提醒了我起床。 我起床后来到了天井里，睡眼曚昽中看到了我的刻漏还在轻轻地滴水。 卯时整。 我突然听到了一声钟声，悠远洪亮，带着几十年的陈年往事的气息，我觉得这钟声是那老和尚每天早上敲响的古钟声。但接着我又听到了五下，原来是我的三五牌钟，它又一次起死回生了。