During the eighth century Wu Tzo-tzu (d. 792) completed his last masterpiece for the royal court. It was a landscape painted on a wall of the court. We Tao-tzu worked patiently on it in solitude and kept the work draped until it was completed and the Emperor arrived for its unveiling. Wu Tao-tzu drew aside the coverings and the Emperor gazed at the vast and awesome scene and its magnificent detail: woods, mountains, limitless expanses of sky, speckled with clouds and birds, and even men in the hills. "Look," said the artist pointing, "here dwells a spirit in a mountain cave." He clapped his hands and the gate of the cave immediately flew open. The artist stepped in, turned, and said, "The inside is even more beautiful. It is beyond words. Let me lead the way!" But before the Emperor could follow or even bring himself to speak, the gate, the artist, the painting all faded away. Before him remained only the blank wall with no trace of any brush marks.
During the eighth century Wu Tzo-tzu (d. 792) completed his last masterpiece for the royal court. It was a landscape painted on a wall of the court. We Tao-tzu worked patiently on it in solitude and kept the work draped until it was completed and the Emperor arrived for its unveiling. Wu Tao-tzu drew aside the coverings and the Emperor gazed at the vast and awesome scene and its magnificent detail: woods, mountains, limitless expanses of sky, speckled with clouds and birds, and even men in the hills. "Look," said the artist pointing, "here dwells a spirit in a mountain cave." He clapped his hands and the gate of the cave immediately flew open. The artist stepped in, turned, and said, "The inside is even more beautiful. It is beyond words. Let me lead the way!" But before the Emperor could follow or even bring himself to speak, the gate, the artist, the painting all faded away. Before him remained only the blank wall with no trace of any brush marks.
— Creativity and Taoism by Chang Chung-yuan