Urban: I Got a Space-Time Mailbox and I Can Write to My Past Self

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The ancient rice paper is made by hand, the fiber length is different, and the paper is thicker.

It is for this reason that the calligraphy and painting of ancient times can be preserved for hundreds of years and thousands of years.

Relatively speaking.

Modern paper is broken into pulp and solidified, and it is basically broken after 50 years.

Oil paper and dried kraft paper are wrapped with rice paper, which is very well preserved.

Even after 300 years.

Except for the yellowish color, the thick paper is not damaged in any way.

"Eighty-first..."

Lin Xian was fascinated by it.

This is the true story of the last 40 episodes of the long-lost "Dream of Red Mansions" in the world.

And Lin Xian, is the first reader of this masterpiece.

.................

"It turns out... the development of things is like this, completely different from what Gao E continued to write."

"No wonder... that's the case..."

"There is such a thing..."

Lin Xian became more fascinated as he watched.

He understood why only the last 40 episodes of "A Dream of Red Mansions" were lost in history.

Some of the above...

Some people do not want it to exist.

Lin Xian originally planned to go to bed after reading a few chapters, but when he saw the penultimate page... the sky was already dark and the day passed like this.

"Baoyu looks at this place, touches the scene, smiles with tears, Masona—"

Wow.

Lin Xian turned to the last page, this is a poem written by Cao Xueqin, as the final ending of "Dream of Red Mansions"——

"Tao is a road to floating life. The absurdity becomes more tragic. The same dream originated from the same dream, so let's not laugh at the world's idiot..."

After reading the tragic and magnificent "Dream of Red Mansions" in one breath, the true ending is accompanied by this miserable self-deprecating poem.

"Hey……"

Lin Xian sighed.

"It is worthy of being the most literary and artistic work in history. It is truly an undisputed masterpiece."

After Lin Xian took a long break, he was about to put away the rice paper.

"Um??"

Lin Xian found...

On the last page of rice paper, in addition to the poem, there is half of the paper left, and there are even a few "thank you" written! ! !

[To Mr. Lin for the next 300 years. 】

【Thank you for your kindness, I will repay it! 】

puff!

Lin Xian's blood pressure rises!

Almost a mouthful of old blood came out!

This Cao Xueqin!

How did you sell yourself!

Fortunately, before handing in the country, I read it curiously!

"Hey, those who do literature are not as reliable as those who do physics."

In order to maintain the "secrets of the future man" and ensure the "normal development of history", Einstein did not even dare to publish some formulas that could change the world.

And Cao Xueqin wrote the thank-you letter directly to the end of the text!

"It's okay for you to use a separate sheet of paper to write on! Is it necessary to save so much?"

Lin Xian scratched his head.

perhaps……

This is also a way for Cao Xueqin to express his respect for herself.

I will write my gratitude to myself at the end of "Dream of Red Mansions", and my own name will follow the name of this book forever.

But……

Cao Xueqin couldn't understand.

Once the matter of being able to travel through time and space to write letters is exposed, it will definitely not only be a disaster.

Even this small mailbox is enough to trigger a world war!

"No, you can't let this paper exist."

Lin Xian took out the last page of rice paper and lit it with a hotel match.

After the burning is exhausted, throw it in the toilet and wash away the paper ashes.

Although I can't keep the poem at the end of "A Dream of Red Mansions", it's a pity.

But for the sake of 100% safety, Lin Xian did not want to leave any handle.

"Things that shouldn't appear, just stay in the long river of time and space..."

Lin Xian wrapped the rice paper back in cowhide and wet oil cloth, closed the small wooden box, ordered a takeaway, and fell asleep after eating.

.................................................. .....

the next day.

After Lin Xian got up, he had a breakfast buffet at the hotel.

Then he took the wooden box and went downstairs. The special car had already arrived downstairs and waited.

"Hello Mr. Lin, the XX special car driver is here for you."

"Let's go, go to the Forbidden City."

After Lin Xian got in the car, he sat down in the back row.

The private car driver turned to the left to start, and asked in a friendly way:

"Mr. Lin, do you want to travel to the Forbidden City?"

Lin Xian smiled slightly and shook his head:

"No, I'll go to the curator. Don't stop at Tianan Gate. Let's go to the management office on the west side of the Forbidden City."

The chauffeur nodded without asking more.

.................................................. .....

One hour later, the car stopped at the Forbidden City Administration Office.

After Lin Xian got out of the car, put on a mask and walked into the organ compound.

The receptionist at the front desk was very polite. Seeing Lin Xian coming over, he smiled and stood up to greet:

"Hello sir, what can I do for you."

"I want to hand in the cultural relics and make an appointment with the curator for me."

The reception staff was very surprised!

These days, too few people willing to hand in cultural relics on their own initiative!

Too many people have forgotten their own interests and sold precious cultural relics abroad for money. In order to recover the cultural relics, relevant institutions have to waste a lot of human, material and financial resources.

The curator has also warned before that visitors who have handed in cultural relics must be treated with high standards!

And be sure to notify him to come personally to receive!

"Okay sir, I will practice Director Wu now."

"Sir, let me register for you. What kind of cultural relics do you want to hand in? Can I have a look?"

Lin Xian put the small wooden box on the table.

The receptionist just wanted to open it, but Lin Xian pressed the lid.

He pulled down his mask.

Smiled friendly:

"I think... let your curator come."

"Depending on this cultural relic, your level...probably not enough."

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