"When the mountains are majestic and the rivers are surging, there can be countless beautiful scenes in this world. However, if there are no old brushes to paint them, then sooner or later they will all be forgotten.

This is Ning Que's ideal way of life: a dreamy evening, accompanied by a good set of brushes, ink hats, paper, ink stones and a beautiful maid, enjoying a cup of weak tea, burning incense three times at the table, and a bright moon outside the window. He could roll up his sleeves and write as much as he wanted, he could stop and raise his head, flick his fingers, and quickly shoot a handleless flying sword from a beam of light traveling thousands of miles, killing a general.

The first night spent on Lin 47th Street made him feel infinitely close to his dreams, despite the cheap calligraphy stationery, the silence of the night but not deep, although there was only water instead of weak tea, only porridge and sesame pancakes to satisfy his hunger, although there was no incense burning on the table, no moonlight outside the window, even though his maid was too small, dark-skinned and ugly, even though he now thought that cultivation was a very stinky fart......

Still, he was so happy that he was able to let his brush dance unbridled on the snow-white paper, so much so that he even thought Sangsang's offer to sell calligraphy was a rather genius idea.

In Weicheng, their lives are not rich and poor, only bitter. Military cargo does not include goods such as calligraphy stationery. So it was expensive for him to write a few volumes of calligraphy. But here and now, he has an infinite amount of writing materials with which he can create the calligraphy he wants. Sangsang has nothing to complain about, because he can sell calligraphy for money. In his mind, there was nothing in this world that made him happier than this.

The times of pain and suffering always drag on like the years, but the moments of joy and pleasure pass quickly. When he finally looked up, put down the water bowl, rubbed his sore wrists and shoulders and prepared to rest, it was already early outside, and he could hear the faint sound of pouring water and the yelling of vendors in the distance.

After a full night of calligraphy, he was surrounded by rolls of paper. Although he began to vent his feelings with two Kuang cursive calligraphy works, in the end he tried to write works that Sangsang thought would sell better. They appear to be unplanned pieces, but actually consist of vertical, horizontal, and long scrolls as well as a huge full-size large nakan scroll. Around him were piles of paper rolls of various sizes and shapes, waiting to be framed.

Having copied thousands of volumes of calligraphy over the years, Ning Que is quite confident in his skills. It's a pity that here in Chang'an, he can't make use of his most proud masterpiece (the famous calligraphy work of the Lanting Poems), because his real home is another era, another place with a different history. If someone asks about the ninth year of Yonghe and Kuaishou Mountain, it obviously does not exist in this world, and there is no answer. As a result, he had to copy some of the existing collections of poems and some of the widely circulated scriptures. Even so, he believed that after the scroll was hung on the wall, countless high-ranking government officials, celebrities, and literati would come to admire his calligraphy as soon as they heard it.

"Alas, the threshold will be stepped on in two days, and we'd better prepare to fix it in advance."

Immersed in this sense of vanity, Ning Que stretched out his right hand and casually tore open the paper roll left by the original owner, as if it was a pile of garbage. Just as he was about to ask Sangsang to find a photo frame shop to frame his masterpiece, he found the little maid sleeping in the corner with her arms wrapped around her knees.

"Well, I'm about to ask you to grab two bowls of those famous Chang'an-style spicy strips......"

Looking at the sleeping little girl, he just shook his head and covered her with a blouse. Then he pushed the door open and walked out, following the aroma of chopped green onions and the voice of the breakfast vendor in the beautiful morning light.

"Uncle, how much do the chopped noodles cost?"

"So expensive?"

"Look, my shop is over there... So, can I get a better price for being a good neighbor?

"That's right! That's the shop, still waiting for me to say the name.

"Actually, I do have a name in mind, but I just need to make a shop sign...... Do you say any name?

"The old brush shop."

...

...

Ning Que made up a random shop name in order to buy cheap noodles, which did make Sang Sang a little unhappy, although she didn't have a better idea of the store name. For this reason, she nagged in Ning Que for several years.

All in all, with a boss/calligrapher and a maid/assistant, this calligraphy shop with a peculiar name finally debuted on Lin 47th Street.

The only thing Ning Que doesn't like about this shop is its distance from the framing shop. Since framing took a long time, and he himself lacked the skills to do so, he had to be patient and wait two more days.

On another rainy day in Chang'an, Ning Que's shop was quietly open on Lin 47th Street. Ning Que was dressed in a brand-new indigo scholar robe, holding a cheap red clay teapot in his hand, standing in front of the wall of the work, behind the threshold, as if he saw his new life beckoning to him. This new life looks really cute.

"Spring rain is like oil. That's a good sign!

He stood behind the threshold, stared at the rain outside, took a sip of tea, and exclaimed. "The delicious and hypnotic aroma of tea and ink! All the power and ambition in life cannot be compared!

The boy's face and scholarly robe make him look rather comical rather than handsome. It's cute when he's trying to look mature by holding a teapot and speaking in an old-fashioned tone.

Outside the threshold, under the eaves, someone is sheltering from the rain. He happened to hear what Ning Que said, and turned to look at him. He was a little startled at first, but then burst out laughing. It was a middle-aged man, dressed in a clean turquoise robe, with a sword loosely tied around his waist. His handsome complexion conveys a sense of freedom and ease, and his charming smile seems to illuminate the falling rain.

It was only then that Ning Que realized that there was someone outside. Knowing that his sentimental words had been overheard, he felt a little embarrassed, and cleared his throat in embarrassment before turning around and pretending to look at the palace in the distance under the rain, as if nothing had happened.

Probably bored, the middle-aged man walked into the store, glancing nonchalantly at the wall with his hands behind his back. His eyes sparkled with appreciation and surprise, although he did not show any interest in purchasing.

Since all scholars were proud of their pride, Ning Que was in no hurry to greet guests, although this person was the first person to step in since the opening of the old brush shop, which had profound historical significance.

After walking around, the middle-aged man walked back to Ning Que's side and said with a smile: "Young master......"

Before he could finish speaking, he was interrupted by Ning Que, who corrected him with a smile. "Please call me boss. Don't call me Young Boss just because I'm young, like I didn't call you Sword...... Man carries a sword.

"That's good, young master," the man said with a smile without changing his address, "I'm curious why you want to rent this storefront that no one wants to rent for three months."

Ning Que replied: "It's quiet here, the environment is pleasant, there are shops in front and houses in the back." I just can't think of a reason not to rent it.

The man smiled again and said, "I just want to remind you that the reason why this store is so cheap and still has no tenants is not because everyone else is not as smart as you, but because of the expansion of the warehouse of the logistics department under the tax department." The local government of Chang'an waited a long time to try to buy back the storefronts on this street. As you know, official remuneration is always very low, which means that renting a storefront here creates a high risk, and tenants can lose everything at any time. You say it's quiet, but don't you realize that the other stores around you are closed?

Ning Quehu frowned suspiciously and asked, "How do you know these things?"

The middle-aged man replied calmly, "Because the storefronts on both sides of this street belong to me."

The store has just opened, and it might not be a good sign to start your day with your first guest being your big boss. But Ning Que was fine, even if it was a troublesome piece of inside information, it didn't bother him.

He was sure that the people who owned all the street shops in Chang'an were either billionaires or aristocrats. Now that the landlord has made a commitment, there is no need to worry about the rest. Since the old brush shop was the only tenant shop on the street, the middle-aged man gave him three months of rent-free, which was enough to make the young master and the maidservant feel happy.

What really bothered him was their business, which was as bleak as the weather.