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“The Valley of the Kings is extremely quiet, as silent as death; there are only countless tombs among the verdant trees, and it seems that there will never be a breath of living person. The young man practiced very hard. Every day, regardless of the wind and sun, he sat cross-legged on a white rock every day and closed his eyes. While sitting, sometimes he will fly up from the ground, open his arms and whirl in the air like a bird; other times he will summon all kind of animals, let them dance in line, make them advance and retreat in an orderly manner; and some other times he would open the palm of his hand and lotus flowers would bloom into his hand, then it would turn into various forms of clouds…” — 沧月
The Valley of the Kings is extremely quiet, as silent as death; there are only countless tombs among the verdant trees, and it seems that there will never be a breath of living person.
The young man practiced very hard. Every day, regardless of the wind and sun, he sat cross-legged on a white rock every day and closed his eyes. While sitting, sometimes he will fly up from the ground, open his arms and whirl in the air like a bird; other times he will summon all kind of animals, let them dance in line, make them advance and retreat in an orderly manner; and some other times he would open the palm of his hand and lotus flowers would bloom into his hand, then it would turn into various forms of clouds…