September, Quzhou Museum.

In the early morning of September, the dawn light gently swept across the earth like a thin veil. I bathed in this gentle morning light and stepped into the gate of Quzhou Museum in Zhejiang, which leads to the depths of history. This not only marks the quiet opening of autumn, but also the prelude to my deep affection with the long years. As soon as I stepped into the museum, a breath of ancient wisdom and modern tranquility surrounded me tightly, as if time was given a gentle touch here, slowly unfolding into a vivid historical picture. What first caught my eye were the well-arranged and orderly cultural relics. They were like silent poets, standing quietly on the exhibition stand. Every crack and every color were whispering the vicissitudes and glory of this ancient land in Quzhou. I slowly strolled between the exhibition halls, and my eyes were deeply attracted by the carefully displayed exhibits. The simple pottery, with the fragrance of soil, seemed to smell the smell of ancient cooking smoke; the exquisite porcelain, the glaze was as warm as jade, and the delicate patterns revealed the endless ingenuity and pursuit of the craftsman. The mottled bronzes not only carry the smoke of war and the glory of victory, but also the crystallization of the wisdom and courage of the ancients. As for those delicate calligraphy and painting works, the ink is overflowing, and the pen is running between the dragon and the snake, as if you can hear the whispers and chants deep in the hearts of the ancients. I seem to have really crossed the boundaries of time and space and had a spiritual dialogue with those ancient people who have long passed away. They are either brave, gentle as water, ordinary and simple, or legendary. Every story is touching, and every moment is intoxicating.