"All profits from the three shops were taken out, totaling 4,762 taels of silver, including 2,000 taels swindled from Chen Laowu;"
Aunt Zhong said.
Xianjin asked, "Is it going smoothly to ask the Second Master for money?"
This was the gentleman's agreement she had originally made with Old Madam Qu, that she would be in charge of human resources, while Second Master Chen Cai would be in charge of finances.
Aunt Zhong smiled and said, "It went smoothly. The second master asked who needed it, and I said you wanted to use it. He didn't even look at the receipt, but directly stamped and weighed the silver."
Xianjin shook his head slightly and declined to comment.
Aunt Zhong continued, "Your private savings totaled 327 taels, including the 300 taels of silver notes left by your late mother. You only have 27 taels left. You first bought the courtyard, built and renovated it, fed and clothed Miss Qiao, bought paintings and vases for Master San, and treated Master Gou's leg injury... These were all huge expenses. You couldn't save any money at all."
Aunt Zhong sighed sincerely and handed the account book to Xianjin, "You actually don't need to hide your private money."
Twenty-seven taels, less than her son's annual expenses.
Xianjin: ...I feel like I’m being mocked.
Xianjin took over the account book and saw that the details and amounts were clearly written on Aunt Zhong's account. In addition to the cash, there was also an item "a pair of gold hairpins weighing a total of eighteen taels, and three gold rings weighing a total of eight taels."
What kind of head is worthy of wearing a gold hairpin weighing one kilogram!
He Ainiang's crazy pursuit of gold is not consistent with her delicate and charming appearance.
Xianjin was simply shocked by the weight of the gold hairpin, but did not take it seriously - in her subconscious, the things left by He Ainiang were not hers. She had the obligation to keep them, but not the right to use them.
Xianjin had just finished flipping through the financial books and was about to say something when he heard a commotion outside. A loud "bang!" broke through the roof of the ceiling not far away - the muffled roars of sixty or seventy strong men were enough to overturn the solid tile shed!
Xianjin stood up quickly, handed the account book to Aunt Zhong, and said briefly, "Keep it," and then he lifted his skirt and rushed to the ceiling: With so many young and energetic people gathered here, she was not afraid of anything! Not afraid of promiscuous relationships! Not afraid of the stench! Not afraid of not having enough to eat and drink!
I’m afraid that these men whose biceps are bigger than their heads will start fighting if they have a disagreement.
It would be a small matter if they fought, but it would be a big matter if Chen's guys lost.
Xianjin ran very fast, running out of the power of practicing Ba Duan Jin every day, running out of the skills of Bo Shen and the attitude of Su Shen. When he encountered a threshold, he even ran out of the miracle hurdles of Xiang Shen in the 2008 Olympics.
When she reached the ceiling, Xianjin leaned against the door frame, panting, her old eyes blurry, and she seemed to see her grandmother in the afterlife and her mother in this life waving at her.
The largest ceiling was filled with steam, and what was coming from the beams was not sound, but smoke coming out of the heads of sixty or seventy men.
A crowd of men all bent over and gathered around the 20-meter-long pool. They stood on both sides, holding onto the bamboo poles that were longer than their lives. They shouted in unison, "Hey, hey, hey!" Everyone bent over! Their backs were bent! Their hands were submerged in the water of the pulp pool!
Paper as big as Bazhang Xuan! No longer limited to sinking, scooping, drying, and drying! Instead, everyone, with their biceps raised high, grabbed the pole and pushed the mill back and forth in unison, so that the white, cotton-like pulp water was evenly spread on the bamboo curtain!
"Ouch! Ouch! Ouch!"
Dozens of men growled from their dantian!
The bamboo curtain was lifted up, and the third row of guys pulled the hemp rope connected to the bamboo curtain and slowly pulled up the curtain with the help of the wooden beams on the roof. The rope on the beam slid straight to the second ceiling. The remaining guys ran quickly, peeling the wet paper pulp prototype off the bamboo curtain bit by bit. The fourth team of guys quickly brought a dozen wooden boxes filled with stones and pressed them on the rice paper prototype!
The moisture is squeezed out bit by bit!
Li Sanshun raised his hands, and the guys from the first team separated the stack of rice paper next to them, which had been completely drained of water, into four sides, together with the load-bearing paper strips underneath, and lifted up a five-meter-high wooden ladder. Five people climbed up the ladder in a well-trained manner and began to separate the paper bit by bit!
Everyone held their breath.
No one dared to breathe!
I was afraid that my breathing would break this thin, moist and fragile rice paper prototype!
Xianjin held on to the door frame tightly and watched the guy on the ladder separate one side with his hands first. Then the guys under the ladder stood on tiptoe and held the corners with their hands, while others picked up long bamboo poles and gently caught the moist prototype.
Finally, eight craftsmen started working at the same time, using large brushes to brush the large paper. The eight-foot-long paper was tightly attached to the baking wall, like a huge piece of white silk spread out in front of Xianjin's eyes!
When the moisture evaporated and the paper slowly hardened, Li Sanshun picked up two bamboo poles and carefully rolled up the paper. He carried it on one shoulder and moved to the windless and rainless inner room, then slowly spread out the paper from the rolled bamboo poles.
Everyone held their breath and watched Li Sanshun touch the corners of the paper with his rough fingertips, then lean forward to feel the texture and seams of every inch of the rice paper, bit by bit.
"The texture is very beautiful, with almost no uneven thickness, no rough edges or holes, and good light transmission." Li Sanshun picked up a corner, put it to his ear and shook it, "There is no sound either."
Good rice paper is as light as a cicada's wing, as white as snow, and makes no sound when it shakes like fine silk.
Li Sanshun's eyes were filled with tears. He turned around and looked at the sixty or seventy people standing in a row.
In the entire Xuancheng Prefecture, sixty or seventy of the top craftsmen who had been training hard in the coldest and hottest days of winter and summer with the ideal of making Xuan paper all looked back at Li Sanshun in silence and enthusiasm.
"It's done."
As soon as Li Sanshun opened his mouth, tears filled his nose, "It's done! We made the first Hachijo Xuan in recent years! It's beautiful! It feels soft! We succeeded!!"
The men shouted "Oh! Oh! Oh!" enthusiastically!
The men from the same paper company hugged each other. Some of them had red faces and paced back and forth helplessly. Some of them jumped high, clenched their hands tightly, and swung their iron fists into the air with great force!
After Li Sanshun finished drinking loudly, he watched everyone lose their composure and go crazy while crying and smiling. His hunched body slowly slid down the wall. He covered his head with his hands and buried his face tightly between his knees. All his smiles turned into gushing tears, which he stubbornly refused to show to anyone in the darkness.
Xianjin leaned against the door frame, tears slowly welling up in the corners of his eyes.
It is completely different from the state of mind of successfully making the Liuzhang Xuan.
Completely different.
She was confident and she firmly believed that she could achieve the goal of Liuzhangxuan. It was a goal that she could achieve by standing on tiptoe.
But after she invested money, effort and manpower and started the tribute promotion camp, all she had was fear and pressure - she was not sure if she could make the Bazhang Xuan!
Twenty years! Hachijo Xuan has not been published for twenty years!
When making the Liuzhang Xuan paper, she felt the beauty of Xuan paper that had been passed down through thousands of years.
Now, what she sensed were seventy hearts, seventy true and sincere hearts of craftsmen.
Bazhang Xuan, only when all Xuan paper people have a pious faith like worshipping, will it be possible for it to shyly unveil its veil and appear in public.
Xianjin raised his head and waited calmly for the tears to flow silently.
It flows into a long river of time that spans thousands of years, running in both directions with the rice paper.
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