I am a Primitive Man

The surface of the yellowed paper is not very smooth, and you can see the raised hairs and some small potholes without looking closely.

Moreover, the toughness is not enough, it can be easily smashed, and there are some extremely obvious fibers that have not been completely smashed on the paper.

To put it bluntly, the overall look is very similar to the yellow paper money that is often used to burn dead people in later generations. If there are more bits and pieces of tin foil inside, it will be exactly the same.

Even so, Han Cheng still smiled very happily, because this is the most paper-like paper he has obtained since he got it out!

This kind of paper can finally wipe your butt hard!

The happiness brought about by obtaining is actually a very wonderful thing, and it largely depends on people's status and needs.

When people are about to starve to death, half a moldy steamed bun that suddenly appears in front of them can make people ecstatic.

And when delicacies become commonplace, no matter how delicious food appears in front of you, it will not make people feel too much joy.

When Han Cheng came to the primitive society, his material needs were undoubtedly reduced to an extremely low level.

If in future generations, whoever dares to hold such a piece of paper and dangle in front of him like a treasure offering, he will definitely be treated with an old punch.

But everything is different now. Not only did he not have the slightest thought of using old punches, but he kept patting the stone's shoulder with his hands, expressing enough praise and boast for the stone being able to make such paper.

Shi Shi's complexion was flushed. In the tribe, even an adult would be overjoyed to be praised by the Son of God like this, let alone a person like Shi Shi who has not been an adult for too long.

Wu Wenxun, who had fed the cubs, also came out, and cut a piece of paper into four with a copper knife. After a little hesitation, he found a few writing brushes he made and a bowl from the back room. A motuanzi.

Put a small ink dumpling into a bowl, add some water into it, put a small, slender stone on top to crush it slowly, grind it little by little, slowly and shallowly The cold water turns black.

Compared with the ink that Han Cheng made in a hurry, the ink at this time is much better in color, at least much thicker.

And there are no those small particles.

In order to get these little ink balls out,

But Wu didn't take too much trouble.

Later, under Han Cheng's intentional or unintentional guidance, he began to use sticky turpentine to dip the bottom of the clay pot.

The bottom ash smoked from the bottom of the pottery pot is very fine and there are no particles.

There is enough ash on the bottom of the pot, and it gradually looks like some ink.

These little ink balls are Wu's previous masterpieces.

The reason why they were made into small ink balls was because Wu thought the round balls were very attractive.

Another reason is that the ink he has produced now cannot be made into too large ink ingots.

However, as the ink gets better and better and harder, the small ink ball will not be too far away from the ink ingot after it becomes difficult to open.

After finishing the ink, Wu picked out a brush that he thought was the best and gave it to Han Cheng, asking Han Cheng to try the obviously improved paper.

Looking at Wu and Shitou who looked at him eagerly, Han Cheng couldn't help sniffling slightly.

In fact, what he wants to do most now is not to use a brush to test whether the paper is suitable for writing, but to take it to the toilet to try whether it is good for wiping his butt.

Recalling the tragic experience of the past few years, Han Cheng's thoughts became more and more intense.

But now that Wu Heshitou was looking at him eagerly, Han Cheng felt a little embarrassed to do this.

And now that it was too early in the morning, he didn't have much desire to go to the bathroom.

So he suppressed the idea of ​​trying the most important function of paper, took the brush from the witch, dipped it in ink, and began to write on the paper.

Without even thinking about it, the action is the magnificent masterpiece that everyone in the Qingque tribe is familiar with, Little Tadpole Looking for Mom.

The current writing brush has also been greatly improved compared with the crudely made brushes that Han Cheng cut off Fujiang's hair before. It is made of Wujiang's wolf hair and rabbit fur at a ratio of about seven to three.

Not only does it have good ink absorption performance, but it also writes smoothly.

The pen is ready, the ink is good, and the paper is also good, so that Han Cheng, who is not very good at handwriting, is not so difficult to recognize the calligraphy written at this time.

After writing a few words, I stopped writing and turned it over to take a look. The back of the paper was somewhat bleed-through, and the stone table below was stained black.

The happy stone was not so happy all of a sudden.

I thought that the paper produced this time was already very good, but I never thought that it was still not very suitable for writing, and there were such big flaws.

But his unhappiness did not last long.

Compared with before, the paper he made now has made great progress, and he is confident to make better paper!

Stone stared at the ink-stained paper and clenched his fists.

Han Cheng, who had been paying attention to Shi Shi, had thought of comforting Shi Shi when he saw Shi Shi's disappointed expression. Swallowed it back.

I was thinking too much. According to the tenacity shown by this guy, he would not be defeated by such setbacks.

Thinking this way in Han Cheng's heart, a smile appeared on the corner of his mouth, he nodded slightly, did not speak, and continued to write extremely ugly words with a brush...

Looking at the little tadpole looking for mother written by Han Cheng, Wu's eyes that had become cloudy due to aging became bright.

It wasn't because he was moved by Han Cheng's graffiti-like touching calligraphy, but because he remembered the words Shenzi said before.

A stack of paper as thick and as big as a pottery board can record everything recorded on all the pottery boards in the tribe.

To be honest, although Wu expressed his belief in what the Son of God said before, there was still some doubt in this belief.

It's not that I don't trust Han Cheng enough, but that this matter is really unbelievable.

Because since the arrival of the Son of God, the things recorded in the tribe have obviously increased rapidly.

Up to now, the pottery plates used by the tribe to record things have been placed in more than half of the house!

There are so many things, and all of them can be recorded with just a little paper. How can this matter be unbelievable!

But now, after seeing the paper improved from stone, all doubts in Wu's heart disappeared.

What the Son of God said was right, paper is really the best writing material!