"Paper is a good thing, a very, very good thing. It is much better than pottery for writing and recording things. Not only is it faster to write, but it can also record more."

After wailing in his heart, Han Cheng began to defend the reputation of paper.

In addition to wiping one's butt, paper was the undisputed king and the most suitable material when it came to recording things and serving as a carrier of culture before the advent of the Internet.

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

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

According to legend, when Cangjie created Chinese characters, the world was filled with gloomy clouds and ghosts were crying and gods were howling, fearing that mankind would soon inherit knowledge and grow stronger.

In primitive society, we have invented paper, which plays a huge role in promoting cultural development and knowledge inheritance. Although the starting point is somewhat different, its important role has not changed at all.

It would be fine if the gods and ghosts on earth didn't make any move when such an important thing came into the world, but what's going on when there's a primitive man shaking his head at the paper?

After Han Cheng finished speaking, Wu, who was squatting there looking at the paper with a puzzled mind, became even more confused.

He looked at the rough paper with some holes ripped in it by his slate pencil, then turned his head to look at the serious Son of God, and felt completely confused.

How can something like this be used to record things and be more useful than pottery?

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

Han Cheng pointed at the slate pen and shook his head at Wu, "That won't work. You need to use something else to write."

Wu scratched his head, pretending to suddenly realize something, then stood up and left in a flash.

This straightforward posture left Han Cheng stunned.

When did the witch's ability to draw inferences from one instance become so strong?

I had only just mentioned it, and he ran away as if he had attained enlightenment. Could it be that he had already thought of the brush and ink from just a few words I said?

The witch left quickly and came back quickly. In addition to the slate pencil in his hand, he also had a stick for writing on the sand table and a piece of dirt.

Wu went back to the paper and scratched on it with a stick, but the result was not much different from using a slate pencil.

So he put them both down and picked up the clod of earth that he rarely used.

Newly made paper is thick and rough, and dirt and clods of earth can actually leave some marks on it.

A look of surprise appeared on Wu's face, thinking that he had found the right method, but he soon became gloomy again.

Because the marks made by the dirt and clods will fall off if you rub them with your hands.

Han Cheng, who was originally amazed by this operation, opened his mouth wide.

Seeing Wu looking at him with a sad face, Han Cheng suppressed his laughter and said to Wu: "This thing won't work. We need to make a new kind of pen."

Shitou also gathered around at this time. The reason why he was so active was that when the witch went in and took the stick that was used to write on the sand table, he told him these things.

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

At this time, he and the witch were scratching their heads, obviously unable to figure out what this new pen that the Son of God mentioned looked like, and how to make it.

There was no shortage of materials for making brushes in the tribe. Han Cheng glanced around the yard and soon his eyes fell on Fu Jiang, who was sleeping in the shade with his belly half exposed.

This guy is lazy now, especially when the weather is hot and he stays in the tribe, he takes a very comfortable nap.

But today, Fu Jiang couldn't continue to enjoy himself because Han Cheng came over with a knife.

The lucky general, who was originally lying there with his eyes half closed, enjoying his life as a dog, was immediately startled when he saw this scene and stood up directly from the ground.

Looking at Han Cheng who was getting closer and the knife in Han Cheng's hand, he lowered his head and was about to run away.

Of course it couldn't escape from the palm of Han Cheng, its grown-up master. Han Cheng grabbed it and forcibly tickled it for a while, then cut off some of its hair with a knife.

Squatting there, watching his master walk away, and then looking at the gap left on his body, Fu Jiang had a dazed look on his face, doubting his life as a dog.

How can you treat a dog like this? Dogs also need dignity, okay?

After Han Cheng cut off some of Fu Jiang's hair, Shi Tou, who had gone out to get the resin, also ran back.

Seeing this, Han Cheng tied up the neatly trimmed wolf hair at the tail with a thin rope. Then he inserted a thin stick into the rope and twisted it a few times with his hand. The rope, which was originally not very tight, immediately became tight.

At this time, the pine resin in the small ceramic bowl has been melted.

Han Cheng held the wolf hair and carefully placed the end of the binding rope into the bowl, soaking it in rosin.

Then carefully put it aside to dry and wait for the resin to solidify.

He took this opportunity to go to the bamboo forest, broke off a few bamboo branches, found one of suitable thickness, and cut it at the joint. This became the pen holder.

There was no time to carve and grind the pen holder in such a hurry, and Han Cheng only knew the process of making brushes and was not proficient in it, so he did not pay too much attention to it.

It is understandable that the first new thing that appears is a little rough.

Picking up the pen tip and seeing that it had basically solidified, Han Cheng dipped it in resin again and then stuffed the hardened end into the bamboo pen holder.

You know what, although it looks a bit crude, it really looks like a brush, and it’s made of real wolf hair.

If you don't believe it, you can look at the lucky guy over there with a dull look in his eyes, sulking and doubting his life.

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

In line with the idea of ​​keeping everything simple in primitive times, Han Cheng quickly got half a bowl of black ink.

The raw materials for ink are also very common, such as the black ash on the bottom of ceramic jars that are often used for cooking, and some charcoal that has been ground into powder.

Such ink certainly cannot be compared with the ink of later generations, even the most crude and smelly ink cannot compare to it.

But it’s hard to come up with anything really good in such a hurry, so this is all you can do.

After waiting for a while, the brush was firmly attached to the pen tube. Han Cheng took the iron knife and cut off the uneven hairs on the brush head. He stirred the poor quality ink, dipped it in the ink, and scraped the tip of the brush very professionally on the edge of the bowl. He coughed, cleared his throat, and began to pretend to write...