When night falls and the moonlight shines through the tall floor-to-ceiling windows into the museum's exhibition hall, the exhibits in the exhibition hall wake up from their sleep and begin to enjoy their freedom.
The sunflowers spread their petals on the canvas, despising the existence of their companions. Those with three flowers looked down on the ones with five, thinking that they were rare; those with fifteen looked down on the ones with twelve or less, feeling that they could not show the sunflower at all.
Brilliant. When Vincent first created his works, he would never have imagined that his works would have such discord.
The shouter leaned on the railing and cleared his throat. The clouds and sea water behind him swirled in his voice, rolling out bottomless whirlpools. People seemed to be able to see the endless starry sky through the centers of those vortexes.
Or that ancient palace located on the deepest sea floor.
The Sphinx shook off the dust on its body and stood up. The whole exhibition hall echoed with a rumbling sound. The stones on its body were so old that even the most senior researcher in the museum was not sure about the origin of those stones.
In the 1960s, it was said that the human-faced lion in front of the tomb of the Pharaoh in Giza, Egypt, imitated its shape, which added a lot of prestige to it in this museum.
There are also groups of cupids, naked buttocks, flapping their little wings, flying around, shooting arrows at every wizard and witch they see. But the wizards who can have a place in the wax figure area of the museum are no longer young.
, has passed the age of spring.
In addition, there are thestrals. When they are alive, wizards cannot see their appearance. After they die, only dry skeletons are left, and wizards still cannot see their appearance clearly.
The false sun hung over the sand table, spitting blazing fire into the valley below. Horses and camels made of glazed glass were hiding in the shade, sticking out their tongues and gnawing at the sand. Two groups of wizards were fighting each other on the sand table during the day.
At this moment, they are nestling together and talking about their acting careers. From time to time, the black-robed wizard digs out the white-robed wizard's arms or legs in the sand - these are the traces of the day's war on the sand table - and then they shout and wave their magic.
Book and help with the procedures for limb reattachment.
The whole museum.
Except for the meditators who like to sit alone on the stone platform in a daze, almost all the long-legged and mobile exhibits in the museum will walk off the exhibition stand under the moonlight and night, stretch their muscles and bones, and refresh themselves.
This is their freedom.
Those are the exhibits that cannot move, such as the skull of the legendary cyclops, which only has one head left, so it can only stay in the glass cabinet and sing weird songs that others will never understand.
The young hunters of the Exoneration Hunting Team sneaked into the museum through the side door and did not attract much attention from the exhibits.
Every year, every month, too many young people sneak into the museum at night.
There are wizards and witches holding hands, hiding in the shadows and making love to each other; there are also people who come to the museum with homework books to find explanations about the exhibits, hoping to polish their papers; there are also rumors that the museum is haunted at night, bringing them with them
Dharma books and talisman papers come to conquer demons and seek excitement.
No matter what these young wizards do, or how they do it, most of the exhibits in the museum turn a blind eye, pretending not to see the sneaking figures.
After all, they are not in the same world as them.
It was originally like this tonight.
Someone walked into the house.
Someone walked off the stage.
There were people guarding the door, sitting on the stone steps, with their backs to everything.
Originally, everything should be so clear-cut.
Until a hard thorn on a branch of the aralia tree pricked the finger of a young wizard, and a drop of bright red blood hung on the tip of the thorn.
As that bit of blood spreads.
Everything will be different.
Although the museum is alive, the residents who 'live' in this museum are all dead.
Tonight, as the bloody aura spread, the dead creatures who had been in this living coffin for a lifetime suddenly smelled an opportunity to break the law of death.
A chance to get rid of their puppet-like life day after day and step out of the moonlight into the sunshine like a real wizard or a real magical creature.
The empty eye sockets of the skeletons were stimulated by the breath, and a red light flashed in the deepest part of the black eye sockets; the magic-tanned specimens, touching their empty chests, seemed to hear the beating of their hearts.
; There are also heavy stone statues, which are clumsily moving off the exhibition stand, walking with heavy steps, looking for the direction of the breath, which makes the whole museum rumble.
…
…
The young wizards who were being chased by the waves of skeleton fossils were completely ignorant of everything that was happening in the entire museum. The urgent pursuit could only make them focus on the escape in front of them, and they had no energy left to carry out any further actions.
Any deep thoughts.
But as the most outstanding young people in First University, they will not be too pessimistic even when they are running away.
They would joke with each other, complain to each other, and speculate together on the reasons for the riot among the bone exhibits.
So far, Zhang Jixin has put forward the most direct guess - he threw the incense ashes over his right shoulder when he entered the Baicao Garden, thus bringing bad luck to everyone.
Throwing incense ashes over your left shoulder before entering the Herb Garden is an ancient custom among wizards. It is said to bring good luck.
But no one knows the consequences of throwing it over the right shoulder.
Theoretically, if the throw is thrown in the opposite direction, the consequences should also be opposite. It is not surprising that Zhang Jixin thinks that he brings bad luck.
But this explanation is too far-fetched.
Zheng Qing turned over a page of Dharma book, summoned several vines, twisted them together, and tied a thick rope. One end tied up the tail of the two-headed dragon fossil, and the other end was wrapped around the black pillar further away.
After a few turns, I tied a knot.
Seeing the dragon howling and twisting in mid-air, he turned back, with a gloomy face, and said:
"It's just throwing a handful of incense ash, it can't bring about such a bad result... The fat man just knocked away a phoenix, wouldn't he be beaten to death with a mahogany stick?"
According to legend, Hou Yi was cursed by the big rabbit because he bullied a phoenix, and was finally killed by his disciple Pang Meng with a peach tree.
Although the fat man has become bigger, his ears have not failed. On the contrary, because his ears have become bigger, his hearing has become much more sensitive.
After hearing Zheng Qing's speculation, he staggered and almost fell amidst the tide of bones.
Then he ran and complained with a cry: "This thing... this thing is not my fault! How can I see clearly what is in front of me... there are so many of them!"
Last year in Potions class, Fatty suffered a lot for several days because he picked a bowl flower by mistake.