He wore Ming Dynasty Hanfu, his eyebrows were dull, and he was as pale as a bamboo branch that had been washed too many times. He stood motionless in front of the picture frame, his eyes as heavy as a dry well.
He calls it "going to work."
I asked for money for drinks from Song Dynasty paintings, hid banknotes in the sleeves of Ming Dynasty robes, and watched with my own eyes as the prosperous old city on the other side of the river dimmed little by little. Until one day, he met Li Xiao in front of the painting in the restoration center.
She didn't know how many dynasties he had recorded in his notebooks, nor how many rains he had seen in his paintings.
She only knew that this man walked silently, didn't like to laugh, and always liked to stare at the priceless paintings in the studio in a daze.
Song Yan has been wandering for almost a thousand years and has seen countless faces.
For the first time, someone asked him to write down a certain moment in his notebook.
Former underworld judge Song Yan × antiquities restorer Li Xiao
Purpose: To write about the fireworks of the world with a fantasy pen, and to observe the changes in the world through thousands of years of travel. History is not just about the changing of dynasties and changes in feng shui, but also about ordinary people living, loving and forgetting day after day.