Forty Millenniums of Cultivation

“Strong Arms" was awakened by the sound of a “Tinker Bell".

This is the beginning of chaos, the beginning of the new era, the darkness of the heavens and the earth, volcanic eruptions everywhere, black smoke, shaking in the mountains while also bringing abundant nutrients, the wild growth of the jungle, flying animals free to ride, and the birth of “strong arms” such as the initial intelligent and social spirit of all things, the caveman of the boiled hair drinking blood.

Strong Arms is the leader of twenty or thirty cavemen in this cave - as distant relatives of early humans, physically fit, with their faces and shoulders developing laterally, with long hairs around them, hands and feet wrapped around developed muscles, more like upright gorillas than human beings.

The caveman's forehead tilts backwards, but his jaw protrudes forward. This skull structure, while giving them developed bite power, also limits the development of their brain capacity and intelligence, so they have yet to learn to polish too sophisticated tools, let alone plant and livestock, but only to build rough stone axes, spears and bone sticks, chase prey every day and gather fruits.

Pursuit of prey requires plenty of energy, a sleepy eye can be fled by abundant prey, or forget to recognize the footprints of the beast, leading to unimaginable consequences. As the head of the caveman, the sleep of the "strong arm” is a vital matter for the life and death of the entire community.

So when he woke up before dawn, his "strong arm" built up a fire in his stomach, filled with heightened vigilance, and his hair rose like a chimpanzee, making a "snoring" sound deep inside his chest.

The other men in the cave, or male cavemen, were also woken by this strange voice.

“Hairless," “One More," “Pork Claw," men face each other, and they look at the chief with a cloudy eye, curling their fingers in comparison to each other, asking “Strong Arms" with gestures —— what's going on?

The sound of "ding-dong-dong" came from the deepest part of the cave, at the end of the darkness, hidden, and a faint fire!

Warm, rugged, narrow, this cave is the best place for cavemen to live.

But the more the cave tilts down, the deeper it gets, the more nothing at the end, it is not suitable for survival, not to mention the lightning strike of the "Divine Wood” and ignite the fire of the bear bear.

These cavemen are still searching for the beauty of fire, and have instinctive curiosity and awe for it.

Despite the faint fire, it is enough to stimulate the pupils of all cavemen and shrink to needle tip size.

“Strong Arms" rubs sharp dog teeth, copies slightly polished stone axes, gestures, and climbs to the end of the cave with male cavemen.

Soon they saw a craftsmanship made of pine nuts, veterinary oil and bone sticks, far beyond the times of fire torches, long flames, almost no smoke, and a nice smell.

The flames sting their eyes, contracting their pores, muscle stiffness and dyspnea, and even the strongest and boldest of the chiefs "strong arms" threatened to scream and hold their heads.

But what surprised them more was the slim little man in the shaking flames.

“It's 'crooked neck’! ”

With six fingers of "one more” in his right hand, he danced with his hands and feet, indicating to “strong arms”, relieving tension between them.

These early cavemen, who do not yet have the ability to master the language, have a rough throat that can only make strange roars, form short syllables, and the flames of their teeth dancing claws seal their throats to death and do not dare to make half a sound.

You don't have to say "one more” to recognize “strong arm".

“Neck crooked” is one of the thinnest cavemen in this little cave.

If the other cavemen are chimpanzees and the "strong arm" itself is a gorilla, then "crooked neck” is a hairless monkey.

Such a thin caveman would not have had the power to survive the brutal floods.

But even though he was thin, he ran very fast, and was good at grinding stone axes, making stone spears and all sorts of strange things, and often smelled the beast, avoiding the entire army of the hunting team, and “strong arms" barely kept him.

In addition to being thin and weak, there is a problem with "crooked necks" that is not a problem - he rarely sleeps every night, but likes to run outside, reach out into the wilderness with no fingers, crooked necks, look up at the stars, look at the bright stars all over the sky and get into permanent thinking.

Outside the cave, beneath the night, is the world of beasts, swordtooth tigers, hairy lions, everywhere wolves and giant pigs, and how the warped neck escapes the invasion of many beasts.

Fortunately, this early tribe of cavemen has not yet developed its original religion. Otherwise, fae like “crooked neck” will definitely be treated as “demons” by the people, thrown under the cliff to please the gods.

In fact, according to the caveman's nomenclature, “crooked neck” should be called “stargazing”.

However, the poor brains of these cavemen do not yet understand the concept of heaven and earth, let alone what it is that glitters in the sky whenever the night sky arrives, which in their view is nothing more than a pointless little light point.

Their short syllables and ten-finger alignment combine to describe such a highly unpredictable concept as the "star", and they have to call this thin kind “neck crooked” in habitual motion.

All cavemen, including "strong arms," knew that "crooked necks” were a heterogeneous species in the community, but no one thought that "crooked necks” would be so strange - he was doing something that no one had ever seen, could describe, or understood in the light of fire.

He's painting.

He first cut a rough line on the limestone with a sharp stone spear, then applied it with a variety of ore grinding and then added fresh water, blood and grease to paint, a raw, simple, rough and life-threatening mural that appeared in front of many cavemen.

In the dark and chaotic sea of thought of the caveman, there is no room for art, religion and imagination, as the chief, “strong arm" should immediately stop the absurdity of “crooked neck”, but his throat and strong arms are caught dead by an invisible force, unable to roar, unable to wave arms, can only watch.

Looking at it, a light of wisdom, like a clear spring, seemed to flow from the fingers of "crooked necks" into the narrow ventricles of "strong arms", giving him a tacit understanding of the meaning of the mural.

“Twisted Neck” first painted a lot of little people underneath the mural, these little people waving stone axes and spears, seemingly chasing... wild boars and bison, that's their everyday life, that's what they are!

Then, "Crouched Neck" painted a lot of little dots above the mural, and there were spreading lines of radiation around the dots, which were things hanging high in the sky, the sun, the moon, and the stars.

Finally, the "crooked neck" pulled many dotted lines from the little man representing them, leading up to the sun and moon stars in the sky, at the end of the dotted line, and drew many arrows.

What does that mean, that they, the cavemen who have just changed from mud spots, can one day fly over the stars of the sun and the moon?

“Strong Arms” doesn't know.

He just felt that there were a lot of new concepts, new vocabulary, new images and fantasies of light coming off the ground, coming from deep into his brain, or simply coming out of deep into his brain.

The sun, the moon, the stars, the heavens and the earth, the universe, flying, exploring… He wanted to find a whole new way of expressing these concepts to the people in general, and then to search with them for ways to fly to the sun.

“Strong Arms" were inundated by this huge, deep, remote and infinitely changing world, with crystal clear tears flowing through the cloudy corners of their eyes, standing in place, and the stone axe accidentally landed on the ground.

His people, "one more”, "hairless”, “pig claws” … all are the same.

“Crouched Neck" finished the mural, the ten fingers were worn out and the last one was stained entirely with blood.

He turned around and looked at himself as a wooden chicken and a thoughtful people, grinning, laughing brilliantly, pure, peaceful.

While the people were still in a trance, they could not themselves, the "crooked neck” did not sneak into the shadows that could not be illuminated by the fire, sticking to the walls of the caves, bypassing the people and walking towards the caves.

He walked very carefully and did not want to wake up the sleeping women and children.

The "crooked neck" pushed away the rock that sealed the hole and re-blocked the cave from the outside, only one footprint at a time to reach the dawn wilderness.

The sun hasn't risen yet, but a wave has risen above a wave of red flashes on the horizon to outline steep, robust and exciting ridges.

The great river runs, everything awakens, and the roar of the beast and the chirping of the birds gradually come from afar, forming an ancient chorus.

“Crouched neck" looked at everything reluctantly, took a deep breath, curled hands licked the saliva, and finally, carefully combed his hair.

In the reflection of Chaoxia, his hair around him emitted a red tongue of color, deep in red, and hidden in a hint of gold, clearly a weak monkey, but it emitted an exhilarating atmosphere that neither heaven nor earth could conceal.

Suddenly, he stopped combing, stroking carefully, twisting a flea from between his hair.

Habitual wants to pinch to death, think about it, or curl your fingers and bounce the fleas out into the infinite wilderness.

The rock behind the cave was pushed away again, and “strong arms” and others screamed in a hurry.

“Twisted neck” didn't go back, smiled slightly, jumped on his head, facing the sun, and turned into a rainbow!