The "History of the Ming Dynasty" that has accumulated dust on the desk has been turned to its edges, and the fragrance of pine smoke and ink in the inkstone has been lingering for many years. Tonight, while I was writing, I suddenly felt the ink waves surging in the inkstone, as if thousands of souls were tapping on the back of the paper - Zhang Juzheng's ink marks spread on the rice paper, Wang Yangming's thoughts flowed with the ink marks, Zheng He's treasure ship came through the clouds, and Tang Bohu's peach blossoms fell to the bottom of the inkstone. I took a deep breath, blew away the dust of history, and watched how the splendor of the Ming Dynasty would be reproduced in my writing.
