Nightfall

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"It's okay to sell, but I have a condition."

"Master, what conditions?"

"You can't set up a stall on the street, so you must have a facade."

"The facade is expensive."

"Just make it expensive, because my words are also expensive, otherwise I can't afford to lose this person."

"Well, listen to you."

Ning Que, who was defeated in front of the little maid, still had a difficult battle after deciding to surrender, determined to be able to get some benefits or face, and finally agreed to the proposal to open a shop and sell words. Now the most practical question before them is how to find a suitable shop.

I wanted to find an inn the night before and there was an inn. Today I want to find a shop and turn around and see a sub-lease shop? Things as good as this, even Haotian, who favors the world, will not give too many opportunities, such things must find an intermediary bank.

The intermediary manager took out a map, and as the command of the march, the two servants pointed to the free shop, and casually mentioned a few prices, so at the strong request of Sang Sang, the area where the shop was selected retreated from around the imperial city. Around the bureaucratic gate, they exited the north city to avoid the quiet and quiet south city in the rich and western district, and finally landed in the area of ​​the east city known for its clutter.

Chang'an City occupies a huge area but has a larger population. The rent of the shop floor is really a lot of money. Even in Dongcheng, the cheapest land, it is not cheap to find a suitable shop floor. To two hundred and two silvers, so the room for selection is even smaller, and running with the intermediary agency for two consecutive days, still no results.

On the third day, the good news finally came. The intermediary, whose eyes were about to be boiled, waved his arms excitedly and told Ning Que that there was a small painting and calligraphy shop on the 47th Lane of East City. The Mohists have everything, with a monthly rent of fifteen or two silvers, and a transfer fee of fifty or two silvers. The lease is still a year and a half. All these conditions are very in line with Ning Que ... mainly Sang Sang's requirements.

Ning Que and Sang Sang looked at each other and saw the surprise in each other's eyes. The price is not expensive, and the location on the map is not bad, but anything needs to be seen, and not to mention the fact of opening a store and selling words. In the next few years, their survival problems in Chang'an City, so they did not take a sip, but asked to go to the small painting and calligraphy shop to see.

The owner of the rental shop was not there, nor was the original boss. The steward took the key to open the wooden door of the ash, and the three of them walked in. This store is very small, there are some banners on the white walls all around, and the wooden columns on the east wall are decorated with things like pen, ink and paper research. The most satisfying thing is that the shop is in front of the shop and the back is small. There is a well in the house. Ning Que and two people looked around at random. When they thought of the low rent, they felt a little willing.

"I don't want these calligraphy and paintings, I'll have to reduce the transfer of gold." Ning Que looked at the densely packed banners, and looked at the stiff and plausible characters on the banners, frowning and said: "Those pens, ink, paper and inkstones It ’s not a good thing, but it can be used as it is, and I ’ll take it when it ’s received, but it must be yours. ”

Sang Sang looked at Ning Que with a small face, full of praise and smile, thinking that the master said this beautifully in place. The intermediary wanted to cry without tears. I thought in the past two days that I knew where your masters and servants stole, but I didn't expect you to do so! I'm just a steward and not an enemy of yours. What is it to torture me?

Tortured and tortured, in short, this matter was finally settled, Sang Sang took out the silver box from the package, carefully counted for a long time before handing over the contract silver. The two sides drafted a document. From this moment, this small painting and calligraphy shop in Lincheng District, Dongcheng District, officially returned to Ning Que.

Smiled happily and walked away with the intermediary manager. Sang Sang put down the package, took out the handkerchief and covered his head and face, and somehow pulled out a large towel. After hitting a bucket of well water from the back of the house, he was ready to start cleaning.

I thought I might have to sign the paper today. The two of them returned from the inn directly and carried their luggage. The intermediary manager obviously didn't pay attention to this detail, otherwise he might make the offer more severely, but it is more likely that he would be fainted by the fart tumbled by the pair of servants.

The small painting and calligraphy shop is filled with the smell of dust and water, and the thin Sang Sang moved the bucket hard, climbed up and down to clean the sanitation, and occasionally raised his arm to wipe the forehead exposed outside the handkerchief, although there was no drop on it Sweat beads.

Ning Que always ignored these things, and moved to sit the stool by the door, looked at the corner of the imperial city that was visible in the distance, looked at the quiet and quiet Liao 47 Lane, and looked at the Huai on both sides of the street in front of him. Shading Ying, I thought it would be quiet and quiet, and the business would be good in the future, and I only felt so relieved when I only spent so much money. I smiled and said, "Young Master's hands are itchy!"

The busy Sang Sang is also in a very good mood today, and he responded crisply, saying, "Night."

"Good."

After sloppy dinner, Sang Sang unrolled the paper roll on the shiny long case. UU reading www.uukanshu.com took out the ink stone stone inkstone, poured water into the inkstone, rolled the sleeves, raised the wrists over the fingers, caught the ink sticks The circle slowly rubs in the middle, and the ink becomes thicker soon.

Everything is the goods left by the former owner. Although it is not a good thing, Ning Que has already been holding the pen beside him. The pen holder in front of his right hand is slanted with five or six brushes, and it is not clear what the sharp point is.

Poor ink turned off without fragrance, but some ink smelly, the brush on the pen holder did not look very good, but he did not care about these, his face was full of anticipation smiles, the left hand with his left thumb behind his waist, **** Tumbling, itchy.

The so-called hand itch is not to steal money, not to hit the little maid's thin buttocks, just to write.

Ning Que likes to write. Even if there is no ink pen and inkstone beside him, only a dry branch or a **** umbrella soaked in rain, he will write from time to time on the mud or bluestone. In the past 16 years, the enjoyment of the pen and ink is undoubtedly the most important thing in his life.

The bold hero dragged into the ink slowly, absorbing enough ink to feel full of energy, rather lacking his shoulders standing side by side, quietly looking at the paper roll in front of him, lifting the pen out of the ink like a sharp knife out of the sheath, dropping the pen into the paper like a blade into the bone, and the wrist slightly moving the paper There was an extra vertical.

This vertical thick ink hammer, like the eyebrows raised by a thick-browed man.

With the first touch of the broken paper, his pen was frustrated but immediately followed by a downward spiral. Over the years, the pen-writing line has already penetrated into his bone marrow bloodline, and he does not need to deliberately plan to operate. Naturally walking on the paper roll, with the stroke of the brush stroke gradually moving to the left, an awkward and free-spirited breath jumped out.

The first word he wrote in Chang'an City was only sixteen words.

"The mountains are high and the water is long. There are millions of things. Without old brushes, you can be strong and poor."