Chapter 578: Suspect the blessed general

"Paper is a kind of good thing, very, very good thing. It is easier to write and record than the ceramic board. Not only is it faster to write, but it also records more."
After Han Cheng wailed in his heart, he began to rectify the paper's name.
In addition to wiping the butt, in terms of recording things and serving as a cultural carrier, paper was a well-deserved overlord and the most suitable material before these things appeared on the Internet.
Whether it is a clay tablet that has been carved and hardened, or nitrated sheepskin or calf leather, it is far inferior to paper in recording things and serving as a cultural carrier.
Even in the later generations when various electronic devices continue to develop and electronic reading becomes more and more common, paper still occupies an important seat and cannot be completely replaced.
According to the legend, when Cangjie made the characters, the world was gloomy and the ghosts were crying and howling, and they were terrified that human beings would soon develop and grow in the inheritance of knowledge.
Now, in primitive society, I have taken out the paper that occupies a huge position in promoting cultural development and knowledge inheritance. Although the starting point is somewhat different, the important role has not changed at all.
If such an important thing is born, it doesn't matter if the ghosts and gods of the earth and the sky don't move at all. What's the matter with a primitive person beside him shaking his head at the paper?
After Han Cheng's words were uttered, the puzzled Wu crouching there, became even more puzzled.
He looked at the rough paper, which he had made some holes with a stone pen, and then turned to look at a serious child, he felt that the whole person was dumbfounded.
How can such things be able to record things and be easier to use than pottery plates?
Seeing Wu's reaction, Han Cheng couldn't help but sniffed again. It would be strange if you could write on the pen in your hand.
Han Cheng pointed to the stone pen and shook his head to Wu, "That won't work. You need to write something else."
Wu scratched his head, making a sudden realization, then stood up and left in a hurry.
Han Cheng was stunned by this simple posture.
When was the ability of witches to draw inferences from others so strong?
He just mentioned a sentence, he just ran away enlightened, did he think of brush and ink from his words?
Wu left quickly and returned quickly. In addition to the stone pen in his hand, he also had a tree stick for writing on the sand table, and a piece of soil.
Wu came to the front of the paper again, and first scratched it with a tree stick. The result was not much different from using a stone pen.
So he put down both and picked up the unused soil.
The newly-made paper is thick and rough, and the dirt is scratched on it, which can really leave some marks.
A look of surprise appeared on Wu's face, and he felt that he had found the right way, but he soon became frown again.
Because the traces drawn by the soil are rubbed off with your hands.
Han Cheng, who was originally surprised by this operation, had a big mouth.
Looking at the witch who looked at him with a sad face, Han Chengren smiled and said to the witch: "This thing is not working, it needs to be done again."
The stones also surrounded him at this time. The reason why he was so active was because Wu Jin had just told him about these things when he took the tree stick that was writing on the sand table.
As one of the best literati in the Qingque tribe, he is certainly interested in such things.
At this moment, he and Wu were scratching their heads together. Obviously, he didn't understand what the new pen was like, and how to make it.
There is no shortage of materials for making brushes in the tribe now. Han Cheng glanced across the courtyard, and soon fell on the Fu general who was lying in the shade and sleeping with his belly half exposed.
This guy is also lazy now, especially when the weather is hot and staying in the tribe, that nap is called a cozy.
But today Fujiang couldn't continue to be comfortable, because Han Cheng came over with a knife.
The blessed general who was originally lying there with half-squinted eyes enjoying the life of the dog, he immediately became a spirit after seeing this posture, and he stood up directly from the ground.
Look at Han Cheng and the knife in Han Cheng's hand who are constantly approaching.
Of course it could not escape the palm of Han Cheng's grown-up master. After being pulled by Han Cheng and forcibly scratching it for a while, he cut off some hairs with a knife.
Squatting there looking at the owner who was walking away, and then looking at the gap left on his body, Fu Jiang was dull and suspicious of the dog.
How can you treat dogs like this? Dogs also want face, OK?
After Han Cheng cut off some of Fu Jiang's hair, the stone that had gone out to get resin also ran back.
Upon seeing this, Han Cheng the neat wolf hair with a thin rope at the end, and then inserted a thin stick into the rope and twisted it a few times with his hands. It was originally tied. Some of the ropes that were not very tight were immediately tightened.
At this time the pine resin in the small pottery bowl has been boiled.
Han Cheng took the wolf hair and carefully put the end of the binding rope into a bowl, soaking it with resin.
Then carefully set it aside to dry and wait for the resin to solidify.
And he took this opportunity to come to the bamboo forest, break a few bamboo branches, find a suitable thickness, cut off at the joint, this is the penholder.
There was no time to sculpt and polish the pen in a hurry, and Han Cheng only knew a process for making brushes and was not proficient, so he didn't pay much attention to it.
The first new thing that appears is forgivable.
Picking up the pen and seeing that it has basically solidified, Han Cheng re-dipped the rosin, and then stuffed the hardened end into the bamboo pen shaft.
Not to mention, although it looks a little crude, it really looks like a brush, and it's still a real wolf.
If you don't believe it, you can look at the blessed general with dull eyes and sulking suspicion of dog life.
Putting the brush here and waiting for the gum to solidify, Han Cheng went to get the ink again~EbookFREE.me~ In line with the simple idea of ​​the primitive era, Han Cheng quickly got a small bowl of black ink.
The raw materials for ink are also everywhere, such as the black ash on the bottom of the pottery jars that are often used for cooking, and some charcoal that is ground into powder.
Of course, this kind of ink cannot be compared with the ink of later generations, even the worst and stinking ink.
But I couldn't get anything too good in a hurry, and I could use it even if I got close.
After waiting for a while, the brush was firmly attached to the barrel. Han Cheng took the iron knife and cut off the hairs of different lengths on the brush head, and stirred up the poor quality ink. Fan, after dipping the ink, he scratched the tip of the pen on the side of the bowl with a very professional look, coughed, cleared his throat, and started to move the pen pretentiously...
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