A Person's Desert Drifting
by A Bottle Of Advertising Color
About This Novel
At three o'clock in the morning, I woke up from the smell of sand and there was an extra painting on the easel. The paint on the charred Populus euphratica forest had not yet dried. I lightly rubbed the painting with my fingers, and my fingertips were coated with a layer of extremely fine sand. It was sand deep in the Taklimakan Desert, but I didn't even remember writing it. What makes my spine shiver even more is that the empty drawing board next to the frame is all filled with paintings, the same dead poplar forest, the same dream, seven different angles. In the smallest painting at the very back, there is a person standing under the tree, pushing a bicycle and carrying a large bag that is almost as tall as a person. That figure from behind is me! In order to solve the mystery of the seven paintings, I set foot alone on a road leading to the Karamaili Desert in Xinjiang. There is a primitive Populus euphratica forest dating back 65 million years, which is an uninhabited and uninhabited land. In that dead forest, I will experience eleven unexplainable illusions. Each illusion is a fragment played by a rift in time and space. At the core of the rift lies a star that only I can see. It keeps changing colors in the night sky, like a blinking eye that has lived for billions of years. But the deepest illusion is not in the desert, but in the deepest part of the Populus euphratica forest, where I will meet a person. This is the story of a traveling painter who uses his brush to record a world that is about to disappear, and reunites with his broken soul in the deepest part of the desert.
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