Zhao Shuang and Han Zeshi were chatting about gossip here, and Lin Wenyi wrote a two-page blessing word in a while.

After writing, he put down the pen and continued to go to the side to make his depressed little transparent.

Xiaolian looked at Lin Wenyi's handwriting and said in envy: "Lin Gongzi's handwriting is so beautiful!" ”

Zhao Shuang said: "Is the count enough for a hundred?" ”

Xiaolian received the order, counted them one by one, and said: "Sixty-eight blessing words, each one is different!" Lin Gongzi is so talented! ”

Lin Wenyi's words are also outstanding among his peers in the capital, and he naturally has more pride in this small place, and he feels that he deserves Xiaolian's praise.

What Zhao Shuang cares about is not whether he writes well or not, but whether the quantity is enough.

I promised to write to others, and they asked for a hundred, so I wrote sixty-eight, and sure enough, the embroidered pillow was useless. Sao Nian, do you know how to make it, you are not the material for reading at all, or is it good to make wine honestly?

"Sixty-eight, thirty-two short." Zhao Shuang walked to the table and picked up the brush, intending to make up for thirty-two.

But the soft brush with the tip of the pen is really not something she can control, and after checking the brush in her hand, Zhao Shuang put it down in an instant.

Lin Wenyi had heard that the daughter of the county magistrate could write well, but he didn't believe it, how could such a woman who eat, drink and have fun all day long and couldn't stay in the boudoir write well?

Seeing that she lifted the pen and put it down, she obviously felt that her writing was ugly, and it couldn't be compared with the sixty-eight children he wrote, so she didn't dare to write.

The corners of Lin Wenyi's mouth showed a hint of sarcasm.

Fu Ning, who was guarding the stove and stewed porridge, was inexplicably sour, people could write sixty-eight words for the master, but he couldn't write any of them for the master.

Although he knew how to write, he learned it when he was very young, and he didn't start to practice it well, and later he became a beggar on the street, not to mention practicing calligraphy, and he couldn't even eat.

Master must pay more attention to Lin Gongzi who can write a good hand.

Zhao Shuang put down the brush and said to Xiaolian: "Go and find me a longer goose feather." ”

In ancient times, there was no hard pen, so it was good to write with goose feathers, and Westerners used feathers to write in ancient times, since many people chose it, it must have its advantages.

Although Xiaolian was puzzled, she immediately went to the house to help pluck goose feathers.

Han Zeshi and the girl Pei'er don't understand, after the county magistrate's daughter came, she didn't write a word, she asked for mutton, radish, corn soup, and goose feathers, which is really different.

However, Han Zeshi's purpose in inviting Zhao Shuang to come was not really to want her to write a hundred blessing characters, as long as she was willing to come as a guest, just let her toss.

Lin Wenyi was also puzzled, but he was contemptuous in his heart: Sure enough, he couldn't write, and it was useless to be a demon.

As for Rou Niang, Miss Shuang'er is right to do anything, she wants goose feathers, and that's right. As for what to do with goose feathers, it was not in her mind at all.

Fu Ning was thinking, could it be that the master wants to write with goose feathers? Master once wrote in the restaurant with chopsticks dipped in soy sauce, and he still keeps that prescription.

Xiaolian soon came back with seven or eight goose feathers more than half a foot long.

Zhao Shuang saw the white goose feathers, and said in her heart, this girl didn't pluck out the long feathers on the tips of other people's goose wings, right? In the winter, how miserable it is to lose feathers!

She jumped the longest and thickest one from it, and said to Xiaolian, "Bring me a pair of scissors." ”

The people in the room couldn't keep up with Zhao Shuang's train of thought at all.

Zhao Shuang used scissors to cut the root of the goose feather into the shape of a fountain pen head dipped in water in later generations.

After cutting, she nodded in satisfaction, sat down at the table, dipped ink from the inkstone, and began to draw the word Fu on the paper.

Everyone watched curiously, and found that the cut goose feather tube could store a little ink, and Zhao Shuang was able to almost finish drawing a blessing character before re-dipping it in ink.

The first Fu character drawn by Zhao Shuang is the flower font, this font was not available in the ancients, multiple round turns, it looks very beautiful, especially by girls.

Pei'er praised: "This blessing word is so beautiful, madam, can I show it on the skirt?" ”

Han Zeshi smiled and said, "You have to ask Miss Shuang'er." ”

Pei'er looked at Zhao Shuang expectantly.

Zhao Shuang said: "You can use it as you like." ”

Zhao Shuang was busy drawing Fu characters, from flower characters, peach heart characters, cartoon characters, hair bodies, vertebra fonts, and English fonts......

Just enough for thirty-two fonts, Zhao Shuang's quill pen is basically useless.

The layman looks at the bustle, and the insider looks at the doorway.

Rou Niang and Xiaolian just watched these fonts be lively and lively, with different shapes, some round, some delicate, some sharp, and some cute...... It's very interesting.

Usually they look at the Spring Festival couplets written by those old pedants, but they just think that the words are like that, others say that it is good, and they don't understand good or bad.

But Miss Shuang'er's handwriting was very interesting, and they could understand it.

Lin Wenyi, who has worked hard in calligraphy, and Han Zeshi, who was born in a scholarly family, saw the foundation from Zhao Shuang's words, how difficult is it to create a font?

Anyone who can create a font is not a person who will go down in history?

The sixty-eight kinds of Fu characters written by Lin Wenyi are all the fonts he has practiced, and naturally they are not created by himself.

He thought that his attainments in calligraphy were not inferior to any of his peers, and he was also a leader in the capital, but he didn't expect that in this remote small county, the daughter of a poor eight-grade agent magistrate would write dozens of fonts with a quill pen that he had never seen!

Lin Wenyi felt that the font that he had never seen before was definitely not created by his predecessors.

He has read poetry and books since he was a child, and read all the famous calligraphy, and the thirty-two fonts written by Zhao Shuang are not among the fonts he has seen, so these fonts are either created by Zhao Shuang, or Lin Wenyi has to admit that he is lonely and unheard, and there are so many fonts that he has not seen.

Every font has something worth learning from, and if you look closely, each font is not simple, and every font is a style that has never been seen before.

He looked at these fonts, and for a moment he couldn't extricate himself and was fascinated by them.

Next to him, Zhao Shuang smiled and said, "Lin Gongzi, do you really want to drink a glass of wine now?" ”

Lin Wenyi nodded subconsciously, yes, while tasting wine, while tasting words, there is wine in the words, there are words in the wine, if there is wine, it is really wonderful.

Zhao Shuang continued: "Do you want to drink a kind of wine that has a simple taste at first, a refreshing entrance, a thick throat, and a cascading flavor after the stomach?" ”

Lin Wenyi couldn't help but nodded, such a scene really wanted to drink the kind of wine she said.

He couldn't help but ask, "What kind of wine is Miss Zhao talking about?" ”