This fashionable paper called straw silk is very light and silky. That's why it's called straw.

But the ridiculous student felt that he had never handled such a heavy thing, and the light fluttering straw in his hand was like the mountain full of bamboo outside the city.

He worked as a small official in the management of bamboo slips, so he really saw mountains of bamboo slips. When Mozi traveled in the past, he also packed three horse-drawn carriages with his collection of bamboo slips.

Because I've seen it, I can compare it, and that's why I feel so heavy when I lift the paper down.

Xiaosheng knew that no matter whether his first piece of paper could be removed in its entirety, this thing called grass silk would become popular all over the world and replace bamboo slips.

The bamboo slips I saw when I was a small official were piled up, but if they were all written on such straw silk, they might only need a small wooden box to fit them.

And the raw material of this thing is not silk, but waste such as tree bark, straw, mulberry bark, hemp rope fishing nets, etc., and its price cannot be compared with silk.

Nowadays, these ink artists are not proficient in their work, and each person can only make thirty or fifty sheets a day, and in the future, craftsmen who really do this kind of thing for a long time can make ten times as many as four or five hundred sheets a day.

Four or five hundred, that is, at least tens of thousands of bamboo slips, Xiaosheng really can't think of any reason to make this thing obscure and not known to the world.

Since the launch is going to be known to the world, he is very careful to unveil it. I hope that one day, people in the world will know: the first piece of straw silk was taken off by a person named Xiaosheng.

As a result, the unveiling became more and more winged, for fear of shattering.

There were a lot of people watching around, and there were also many people outside the door who couldn't squeeze in, waiting for the final result and holding their breath.

Xiaosheng felt his hands tremble a little, just like when he first picked up a pen to write a long time ago, and he tried to breathe a few times to calm down his trembling hands.

Finally, there was a cheer from the people inside and outside the house, and a whole piece of straw was torn off the hot, dry brick wall.

This is not a good paper, if you fit it here, you will feel that this thing is stronger than the paper money scattered on the grave, but it is also limited.

Many of the coarse wood fibers can still be seen, and people with OCD may choose to pick out the large fibers that are not completely crushed and crushed, but a little force can make a big hole.

Fortunately, it is not suitable here, there is no harm without contrast, and this crude and simple paper has become a divine object.

A sacred object that proves once again that the Paradise is achievable, a divine object that is not as expensive as grass and trees, but can play a role in the combination of silk and ink.

The same thing is different in the eyes of different people.

The villagers who have just arrived here see the paper in their eyes as straw silk that can be sung in the happy land, which can open larger windows and shield them from the cold wind.

The paper in Xiaosheng's eyes is the magic that the bamboo mountains he saw when he was a small official can be loaded into a small wooden box.

The paper in the eyes of the Emperor is the benefit of the ink that he muttered at the beginning, and he, who is subordinate to the secretary of the book, no longer needs to split the bamboo.

The paper in the eyes of the six fingers turned into words filled with the words he had learned, braided together with ropes, and could be read at any time.

But because the latter three people have the same name - the ink man, they have long heard the influence of the paper on the world, so in their own eyes, there is also a common imagination and deduction.

Xiao Sheng no longer uncovered the paper, but took this piece of paper, used a pen stained with ink, and wrote a few eight cheap characters.

"The ink artist has paper first, and this cheap character will soon become the word of the world."

Zao Qi Sui took Xiao Sheng's pen and wrote down four words: Zi Mozi said.

"It is appropriate to say, Mr. will go into the grass and become ten million, I believe."

Hand the pen to the little six fingers on the side, the six fingers scratched their heads, separated the sentence Mozi said, wrote three happy land proverbs very casually, and handed the pen to Wei.

Wei can't write, and once thought that words were so sacred, and they were something that could make ghosts cry, but he didn't want to be able to hold a pen with his hand that held farm tools and handles all year round, and drew a pen on it tremblingly.

"It's a reed. My name ......"

Those who can write, those who can't write, those who write, those who don't...... Everyone present used that pen to write something gibberish on the first piece of paper, more or less.

Then, all of them cautiously began to tear the paper down.

…………

When Mozi and the others returned, the first batch of paper had accumulated more than 100 sheets, all of which were cut according to the previous agreement, and the best quality batch was selected.

Mozi looked at the first piece of paper full of various characters and all kinds of strange symbols, and looked up to the sky and smiled.

He had imagined what the straw silk looked like, and he had seen the wet paper being pasted on the hot brick wall before, so he was not surprised by the appearance of the paper, but he was happy with what Shi said before.

Shi saw these not very good quality paper, and his heart was quite excited, at least he had the opportunity to wipe his butt without dirt or bamboo chips in the future, although the paper was still a bit extravagant at this time, but at least there was some hope.

Mozi looked at Shi who was scratching his ears and cheeks and was overjoyed, and asked with a smile: "How is this grass silk compared to what you saw in Mr. Sai and Tang Han?" ”

After the appearance of so many strange things and whimsical ideas, Mozi had no doubt that there really was such a talented hermit in the world a few years ago.

Shi pondered for a moment and replied, "What the disciple saw there was as white as snow. It's not like this. But first of all, we have to solve the problem of whether there is a problem or not, and then we can solve the problem of whether it is good or not, so I am very happy. ”

Mozi also smiled: "I'm also very happy." With such straw silk, the bamboo slips I collected may only need 100 pieces of straw silk to write, and it is more convenient to flip through them, and more people in the world can have the opportunity to know words. That's why I said that this thing is good for the world. ”

"As for whether the characters are those official books or big seals written by you, that's another matter. Since you came up with this straw silk, you didn't have a chance to write on the first one...... Write whatever you want today, and I'll listen to it. ”

After speaking, he handed a stack of paper to Shi's hand, Mozi knew that Shizi didn't seem to be "illiterate", but the words he had spoken several times before were very interesting and reasonable, and he wanted to see what Shiti could write on paper.

Shi picked up the brush, picked up the charcoal next to him, and thought for a long time, not knowing how to write.

The rest of the inkers also looked at Shi, guessing what he would write.

Or guess it, he would draw a circle and then calculate the diameter rate using what he called circumcision. It is inconvenient to draw a circle on a bamboo slip, but it is completely possible to draw on it.

Or there is a guess, he will first write some of the things that Zi Mozi once said. For example, Zi Mozi once praised him, especially the shocking comments when the ink scholars gathered, in order to motivate and encourage himself.

It may be speculated that he would write about the Paradise and then depict the next few Paradises, such as the spinning wheel that could spin many yarns in one person. Because up to now, in the eyes of the ink man, he is a person who aims to benefit the world, whether it is an ink cart, a cocoon cart, a ploughshare, or anything else.

But they all guessed wrong.

Shi picked up the charcoal, and on the edge of the first sheet of paper, drew a simple little figure.

According to the familiar vocabulary, this is called a stickman; According to the vocabulary of these ink writers, this is called the ancient witch style, and the ancient wizards are so simple to draw, a circle and two bars are a person.

The crowd was puzzled.

Shi moved the first piece of paper again, and in the same position of the second paper, drew another stickman.

The simple lines look almost the same as the previous one, and it can even be seen that Shi is drawn according to the traces left by the first one.

But on closer inspection, there is still a slight difference, and the "legs" of the second little stick figure move forward.

Everyone knew that he always had a deep meaning in what he did, so they didn't ask more, but just watched him finish the last stroke one after another.

More than 100 sheets of paper, there are more than 100 small simple figures, roughly the same but slightly different, by the time the last one is completely different from the first one, but it is almost the same as the previous one.

Shi carefully stacked the more than 100 pieces of paper, and said to Mozi: "Sir, do you remember what you said about 'shadows do not migrate'?" ”

Mozi nodded, and all the inkers also nodded, which is a very important debate in the debate of Mozi, Mozi believes that the shadow does not move, but constantly disappears and reappears.

Shi said: "Mr. Sai once taught me one thing, for things that cannot be judged, you can't imagine it out of thin air. Argument can win, but it cannot judge whether the explanation is in accordance with the will of heaven. The right or wrong of a sentence has nothing to do with winning or losing the debate, but only whether it conforms to the will of heaven. ”

Mozi praised: "That's right. The argument is just to exchange reason, reach an agreement, and get close to the will of heaven. ”

After bowing properly, he said solemnly: "Sir, when something can be done to prove it, there is no need to argue. I ask for one more item in the debate of the ink writer--the dialectic of using facts and objects to test right and wrong! ”

He straightened up, grabbed the papers he had stacked together with his thumb in front of the inkers, and broke them with force, using the elasticity of the paper to loosen them one by one.

A magical scene appeared in front of the ink people.

The little stickmen, who were dead, impossible to move, and extremely rudimentary, joined together into a painting by the rapid turning of the paper.

A terrifying, alive, moving painting......

"It's moving! The man is moving forward! Look at his legs! ”

Zao Qi Sui exclaimed in surprise, pointing to the figure on the shaking paper, his face full of surprise and disbelief.

I wanted to rub my eyes, but I was worried that I would miss the next scene, so I watched with wide eyes.

Xiaosheng was excited, and said as indifferently as possible: "The shadow does not move." This time, Fifty-four went to argue with Yang Zhu, Lie Yukou and others, and this question will be won. ”

Over and over again, Shiki re-screened the most rudimentary "animations" that he had played countless times in his textbooks when he was a child, and finally set the paper aside.

Then, in front of all the ink artists and Mozi, he said, "This is the first word I wrote on the straw silk. ”

Mozi was still puzzled, but Mozi understood and said, "I know what you wrote this word." ”

The inkers thought that Mozi would say the word "shadow does not migrate".

But he didn't want Mozi to pick up the pen himself, and wrote a few big words on the top of the first one with a few simple cheap characters that he learned from Shi.

"Your eyes will also deceive you, if you don't verify what you think is right, it may not be correct, and your eyes still deceive others. The debate of the ink man, from now on, the experience first, the theory last! ”