"Paper is a good thing, a very, very good thing, it is better to use it for writing and recording things than pottery plates, not only to write quickly, but also to record more."

After Han Cheng wailed in his heart, he began to correct the name of the paper.

In addition to wiping the buttocks, in terms of recording things and acting as cultural carriers, before the emergence of these things on the Internet, paper was a well-deserved overlord and the most suitable material.

Whether it is a carved clay tablet that is burned hard, or a sheepskin or calfskin that has been nitrated, it is far inferior to paper in terms of recording things and acting as a cultural carrier.

Even in later generations, when various electronic devices continue to develop and electronic reading becomes more and more common, paper still occupies an important place and cannot be completely replaced.

Legend has it that when Cangjie made the word, the heavens and the earth were gloomy, and the ghosts cried and howled, frightened that mankind was about to get the inheritance of knowledge and would develop and grow.

Although the starting point is somewhat different, the important role has not changed at all.

Such an important thing was born, and the earth, heaven, ghosts, and gods didn't move at all, and there was a primitive person next to him shaking his head at the paper, what was going on?

After Han Cheng's words came out, the Wu who was squatting there at the paper full of puzzled thoughts became even more puzzled.

He looked at the rough paper, which had been cut out with a stone pen, and then turned his head to look at the serious Shenzi, and felt that the whole person was confused.

How can such a thing be able to record things and work better than a clay tablet?

Looking at Wu's reaction, Han Cheng couldn't help but sniffle again, it would be strange if the pen in your hand could write on it.

Han Cheng pointed to the stone pen and shook his head at Wu and said, "That's not good, you need to write it with something else." ”

Wu scratched his head, made a sudden realization, then stood up and walked away.

This crisp posture, Han Cheng was stunned for a moment.

When did Wu's ability to draw inferences from others become so strong?

He just mentioned a sentence, and he ran away with such an enlightened look, could it be that he had already thought of the brush and ink from his words?

Wu left quickly and came back quickly, in addition to holding a stone pen in his hand, there was also a stick for writing on the sand table, and a piece of soil.

Wu came back to the paper and scratched it with a stick, but it was not much different from using a stone pen.

So he put them both down and picked up the dirt that he didn't use much.

The freshly made paper is thick and rough, and the dirt scratches through it, and it can really leave some marks.

Wu had a look of surprise on his face, thinking that he had found the right way, but he soon became sad again.

Because the traces drawn by the soil are lost with a rub of the hand.

Han Cheng, who was originally amazed by this operation, had a big mouth.

Looking at Wu who was looking at him with a sad face, Han Cheng smiled and began to say to Wu: "This thing can't work, you need to make a new pen." ”

The stones also gathered around at this time, and the reason why they were so active was because Wu went in and took the stick that was writing on the sand table just now, and told him these things.

As one of the most cultured people in the Qingque tribe, he is certainly interested in such things.

At this time, he scratched his head with Wu, obviously not understanding what the new pen that Shenzi said looked like and how to make it.

There is no shortage of materials for making brushes in the tribe now, Han Cheng's gaze swept in the courtyard, and soon fell on the Fu General who was sleeping with his belly half-bare in the shade at this time.

This guy is lazy now, especially when the weather is hot and he is in the tribe, and he sleeps comfortably.

However, there was no way for Fu Cheng to continue to be comfortable today, because Han Cheng came over with a knife.

The blessed general, who was lying there with half-squinted eyes and enjoying the dog's life, immediately became a spirit after seeing this posture, and stood up directly from the ground.

Look at Han Cheng who is constantly approaching and the knife in Han Cheng's hand, and the low eyebrows are about to slip away.

Of course, it couldn't escape the palm of Han Cheng, the master who had grown up, and after being pulled by Han Cheng and forcibly scratching it for a while, it cut off some hair with a knife.

Squatting there and looking at the owner who was leaving, and then looking at the gap left on his body, Fu Jiang looked stunned and doubted the dog.

How can anyone treat a dog like this? Dogs also want to be faced, okay?

After Han Cheng cut off some of the Fu Jiang's hair, the stone that went out to get pine resin also ran back.

Seeing this, Han Cheng tied up the neat wolf hair at the end with a thin rope, and then inserted a thin stick into the rope, and twisted it a few times with his hand, and the rope that was not very tight was immediately tightened.

At this time, the pine resin placed in the small pottery bowl has been boiled.

Han Cheng carried the wolf hair and carefully put the end of the binding rope into the bowl, dipped in pine resin.

Then carefully set it aside to dry, waiting for the pine resin to solidify.

And he took this opportunity to come to the bamboo forest, broke a few bamboo branches, found a suitable thickness, and cut it off from the joint, which is the barrel of the pen.

In a hurry, there was no effort to carve and polish the pen shaft, and Han Cheng only knew a process for making brushes, and he was not proficient in it, so he didn't pay much attention to it.

The first new thing that came out was understandably rougher.

Picking up the tip of the pen to see that it had basically solidified, Han Cheng dipped the pine resin again, and then stuffed the hardened end into the bamboo barrel.

Not to mention, although it looks a little shabby, it really looks like a brush, and it's a real wolf.

If you don't believe it, you can look at the lucky generals over there who are dull-eyed and sulking and suspicious of dogs.

Putting the brush here and waiting for the gum to solidify, Han Cheng went to get ink again.

In line with the idea of simplicity in the primitive era, Han Cheng quickly got a small half bowl of black ink.

The raw materials of the ink can also be found everywhere, such as the black ash on the bottom of the clay jar where cooking is often made, and some charcoal that has been ground into powder.

Of course, this kind of ink cannot be compared with the ink of later generations, even the most clumsy and smelly ink.

But I can't make anything too good in a hurry, and I can use it if I put it together.

After waiting for a while, the brush was already firmly glued to the barrel, Han Cheng took the iron knife to cut off some hairs of different lengths on the brush head, and stirred the ink that was not of good quality, and after dipping the ink, he looked very professional and scraped the pen on the edge of the bowl, coughed, cleared his throat and began to pretend to move the pen......

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