The warehouse is just behind the stone mortar. It is made of thick bricks and stones, the floor is raised one meter, and there are eight pillars outside the warehouse.
Xianjin went up three steps and saw Zhou Ergou and Manager Dong each holding a key. They inserted the keys into the keyholes, one on the left and one on the right. With a "click" sound, the lock opened.
A bit serious.
Xianjin glanced at the left window inadvertently.
A small window was wide open.
The window frames are filled with invitations.
Xianjin took another look at the high-end and elegant double-lock.
What we are saying is that the operation just now may have been mainly about a sense of ritual.
Xianjin's mouth twitched, and he patted Manager Dong on the shoulder, pointed at the window, and suggested, "After we settle the account, how about nailing a fence to each window?"
Manager Dong looked over and his face turned red.
Chen Fu took a bite of the bun and laughed out loud, hahahahahahaha, as if he had lost his mind.
The warehouse is worthy of a double-door lock. It is larger than the store. Dozens of nanmu chests are arranged in order, and the strong smell of pepper hits the nose.
A bit irritating to the nose.
Xianjin leaned close to the wall and sniffed. It was the smell of the pepper paste pasted on the wall.
"The rice paper needs to be dry. In addition to raising the ground and laying out the green bricks, the pepper paste is also very useful."
Chen Fu ate the buns while explaining to Xianjin in a hurry. He finished the buns in two or three bites, took out a piece of silk and wiped his hands and mouth carefully before stepping into the warehouse door.
Xianjin looked at him twice.
It’s not that I was surprised at his knowledge of Xuan paper, but that he wiped his hands and mouth before entering the warehouse - this love-brained man actually still has awe for the paper industry in his bones.
Quite interesting.
Xianjin pursed his lips and smiled.
The warehouse is divided into two major categories, raw rice paper and cooked rice paper, and dozens of small categories, such as tribute paper, jade plate, coral, mica paper, cold gold, wine gold, wax gold flower rib, peach red tiger skin... The categories are made of sandalwood chips and hung scattered on the chest of drawers.
"…Xuan paper can be divided into raw and cooked." Manager Dong was like a nagging old woman, and he started to talk non-stop. "Raw Xuan paper is what it is after it is made and baked, while cooked Xuan paper is coated with alum, etc. The paper is hard and tough, and the ink and color are not easy to spread. It is very suitable for painting with fine brushes or making scrolls."
Xianjin touched the paper with "Jia Gong" written on it.
Smooth, delicate yet a little soft.
It should be raw rice paper.
Xianjin glanced around and asked, "What is the most common thing in Curry now?"
Manager Dong pursed his lips.
Xianjin looked at the pile of... um... yellow paper piled in the corner?
"…bamboo paper." Manager Dong said with a bit of disdain, "Our family is a quality company. I was surprised when I came to check the warehouse a few days ago. I don't know why there are so many piles of bamboo paper. There is a good kind of this thing, called jade button. Sichuan and Fujian bamboos are good, so they are made a lot - but the pile we have here has nothing to do with jade button paper!"
Manager Dong tore off a piece of paper and handed it to Xianjin, "Touch it and see if you can call it paper?"
How to say it?
Manager Dong's attitude of flattering the powerful and looking down on the weak is very...mean?
He usually looks honest, steady and self-controlled.
Just... when talking about paper gossip, it's so mean.
Xianjin smiled and touched it.
All right.
With her shallow, superficial and one-sided understanding of paper.
Is this pile of bamboo paper the rough-edged paper used by those naughty kids in later generations to practice calligraphy? ? ?
“Why do you make so much of this paper?”
Xianjin asked with a smile, and a possibility suddenly emerged in his mind, "When we do the year-end summary of the Chen family's several workshops, should we write down this year's paper production volume?"
Manager Dong nodded. "Yes, Jing County has been leading the way for several consecutive years. Last year, it seemed that 50,000 pieces of paper were produced."
Manager Dong understood what Xianjin meant. He paused for a moment and then returned to his mean attitude. "Oh! This is just a fake! You are deceiving yourself!"
You are very motorcycle!
Xianjin smiled silently.
Chen Fu was walking in front, and when he saw something, he exclaimed, "… there is actually a four-zhang Xuan!"
Xianjin walked forward quickly and saw a large piece of paper spread on the blue bricks!
Xianjin estimated that the paper was about fourteen or fifteen meters long and three or four meters wide. The paper was off-white and visibly tough and thick!
Chen Fu's eyes were slightly red. He turned to look at Xianjin and said excitedly, "Sizhang Xuan! Only a great scholar can write with it, and only a famous scholar can write with it! Such a small workshop in Jing County actually has Sizhang Xuan!"
Zhou Ergou's eyes were red, "Last year, Master Sanshun and more than 20 paper-making masters made four-meter-long xuan paper in the workshop in front! They worked for four days and four nights and made half a dollar. Now there are only 27 sheets left."
Zhou Ergou had tears in his eyes. "What's four zhang of paper? When Master Li was still around, our family could make six zhang or eight zhang of paper... One roll of paper cost one hundred and fifty taels of silver! Now that Master Li is gone, we can no longer see hundreds of papermakers in Jing County making paper together!"
Four feet high is still so spectacular.
What’s more, it is eight zhang long.
The selling price of a sword of eight feet long was one hundred and fifty taels, or one hundred thousand yuan.
So, what about the money?
Xianjin thought of the pitiful one tael and one cent in the account, and chuckled in his heart, one thousand taels of silver - it was too little!
Xianjin took a look around and had an idea in mind. He whispered something to Manager Dong and had a meal of boiled vegetables and corn rice in the workshop. In the afternoon, Chen Fu and Xianjin went to Tianhuang Creek together. The teahouse was built by the creek, and opposite was the famous Qingcheng Mountain Temple. Perhaps it was after lunch break, all the students coming and going were wearing long gowns of fine cloth. They rubbed their eyes sleepily and walked hurriedly inside with cloth bags in their hands.
Xianjin withdrew his gaze and saw a middle-aged man with a dark complexion, short stature and strong limbs coming hurriedly from a distance.
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