"Paper is a good thing, a very, very good thing. It is easier to use for writing and recording things than a clay tablet. Not only can it be written faster, but it can also record more."
After Han Cheng wailed in his heart, he began to rectify Zhi's name.
In addition to wiping your butt, in terms of recording things and serving as a cultural carrier, before the advent of things like the Internet, paper was the well-deserved overlord and the most suitable material.
Whether it is a clay tablet carved and then hardened, or a tanned sheepskin or calfskin, it is far inferior to paper in terms of recording things and serving as a cultural carrier.
Even in the future when various electronic devices continue to develop and electronic reading becomes more and more common, paper still occupies an important position and cannot be completely replaced.
Legend has it that when Cangjie coined Chinese characters, the world was filled with gloom and gloom, with ghosts crying and gods howling, fearing that mankind was about to receive the inheritance of knowledge and would develop and grow.
Now in primitive society, I have created paper, which plays a huge role in promoting cultural development and passing on knowledge. Although the starting point is slightly different, the important role has not changed at all.
When such an important thing comes out, it doesn't matter if there is no movement from the earth, heaven, ghosts and gods. What's the matter with a primitive man shaking his head at the paper next to him?
After Han Cheng's words came out, Wu, who was squatting there looking at the paper with his puzzled mind, became even more puzzled.
He looked at the rough paper, which had some holes made by himself with a slate pen, and then turned to look at the serious Shenzi, feeling that he was completely confused.
How can such a thing be able to record things and be easier to use than a clay tablet?
Seeing Wu's reaction, Han Cheng couldn't help sniffing again. It would be strange if the pen in your hand could write on it.
Han Cheng pointed at the stone pen and shook his head at Wu: "That won't work. You need to write with something else."
The witch scratched his head, as if suddenly enlightened, then stood up and walked away quickly.
This straightforward posture made Han Cheng stunned for a while.
When did a witch's ability to draw inferences from one instance become so powerful?
He just mentioned it, and he ran away with an enlightened look. Could it be that from his few words, he had already thought of the brush and ink?
Wu left as quickly as he came back. 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 earth.
Wu Zhong came to the paper and scratched it with a tree stick. The result was not much different from using a stone pen.
Then he put both of them down and picked up the trash that was not used much.
The newly made paper is thick and rough, and dirt and debris scratched on it can really leave some marks.
There was a look of surprise on Wu's face, and he felt that he had found the right method, but he soon became sad again.
Because the traces drawn on the soil will fall off when rubbed with hands.
Han Cheng, who was originally surprised by this operation, had a big mouth.
Looking at the wizard who was looking at him with a sad face, Han Cheng couldn't help but laugh and said to the wizard: "This thing doesn't work, I need to make a new kind of pen."
Stones also gathered around at this time. The reason why they were so active was because the witch had told him these things when he went in to get the tree stick for writing on the sand table.
As one of the top cultural figures in the Qingque tribe, he is certainly interested in such things.
At this time, he and Wu were scratching their heads together, obviously unable to understand what the new pen mentioned by the Son of God looked like and how to make it.
There is no shortage of materials for making brushes in the tribe. Han Cheng glanced around the yard and soon landed on Fu Jiang, who was sleeping in the shade with his belly half exposed.
This guy is too lazy now, especially when the weather is hot and he stays in the tribe, it is a very pleasant nap.
But General Fu couldn't continue to enjoy himself today, because Han Cheng came over with a knife.
Fu Jiang, who was lying there with half-closed eyes enjoying his life, immediately became excited when he saw this posture and stood up from the ground.
Looking at Han Cheng who was getting closer and the knife in Han Cheng's hand, he was about to run away with a low eyebrow.
Of course it couldn't escape the palm of Han Cheng, its grown-up owner. Han Cheng grabbed it and scratched it for a while, then cut off some of its hair with a knife.
Squatting there and looking at his master who was walking away, and then looking at the gap left on his body, Fu Jiang had a blank look on his face and was suspicious of the dog.
How can anyone treat a dog like this? Dogs also need to be respectful, okay?
After Han Cheng cut off some of Fu Jiang's hair, the stone that went out to get turpentine also ran back quickly.
Upon seeing this, Han Cheng tied up the neatly arranged wolf hair with a thin rope at the end, then inserted a thin stick into the rope, held it with his hand and twisted it several times, which was originally tied up.
Some of the ropes that were not very tight tightened immediately.
At this time, the rosin placed in the small earthenware bowl has been boiled.
Han Cheng took the wolf hair and carefully placed the end of the binding rope into the bowl and dipped it in rosin.
Then carefully put it aside to dry and wait for the rosin to solidify.
Taking advantage of this opportunity, he went to the bamboo forest, broke off a few bamboo branches, found one of suitable thickness, and cut it off at the joint. This became the penholder.
In a hurry, he didn't have time to carve and polish the pen barrel, and Han Cheng only knew one process of making brushes and was not proficient in it, so he didn't pay much attention to it.
The first new thing that appears is understandably rough.
He picked up the pen tip and saw that it was basically solidified. Han Cheng dipped it in rosin again, and then stuffed the hardened end into the bamboo pen holder.
Not to mention, although it looks a bit crude, it still looks like a brush, and it is still a real wolf hair.
If you don't believe it, you can look at the lucky general over there with dull eyes, sulking and doubting the birth of a dog.
After placing the brush here and waiting for the gum to solidify, Han Cheng went to get ink again.
In line with the idea of keeping everything simple in primitive times, Han Cheng quickly obtained a small half bowl of dark ink.
The raw materials for ink can also be found everywhere, including the black ash on the bottom of pottery jars where cooking is often done, and some charcoal ground into powder.
Of course, this kind of ink cannot be compared with the ink of later generations. Even the most inferior and smelly ink cannot compare.
But I couldn't come up with anything good in a hurry, so I could just make do with it.
After waiting for a while, the brush was firmly stuck to the barrel. Han Cheng took the iron knife and cut off all the hairs of different lengths on the head of the brush, and stirred the ink which was not of good quality.
After dipping in ink, he scratched the tip of his pen on the edge of the bowl with a very professional look, coughed, cleared his throat and started to pretend to write...
