Ning Que's ideal life was to have a good brush, ink, paper, inkstone and a beautiful night, a beautiful handmaiden by his side, a cup of tea in front of him, three burning incense sticks by the table and a bright moon outside the window. He could roll up his sleeves to write as much as he wanted, and when he was done, he could raise his head and flick his fingers to send a handleless flying sword to kill a general from thousands of miles away.
This was Ning Que's ideal life. On the first night in the house on Lin 47th Street, he felt that he was infinitely close to his ideal. Although the brush, ink, paper and inkstone were all cheap goods, although the night was silent but not spacious, although there was only clear water without tea, only porridge and sesame seed cake on the table without burning incense, although there was still no bright moon outside the window, although the handmaiden was too small, too dark and too ugly, and although he now felt that cultivation was a very stinky and hollow fart …
Although there were so many "ifs", he still felt very happy when he could write freely on the snow-white paper. He even thought that Sangsang's idea of selling calligraphy was really a genius.
The City of Wei was bitter and cold, not poor, but not rich either. The materials transported by the Military Ministry did not include brush, ink, paper and inkstone. Therefore, it used to cost a lot of money to write a few scrolls of calligraphy. Now, he could use the brush, ink, paper and inkstone freely and could even exchange them for money. Sangsang would not complain in a low voice. Was there anything happier in the world?
Painful and torturous time always passed like a year, but happy and enjoyable time was really fleeting. When he finally raised his head, picked up the bowl and drank half of the water, rubbed his sore wrists and shoulders, and decided to take a rest, it was already dawn outside the door. There was a faint sound of pouring water and hawking coming from afar.
After writing for a whole night, there were already many scrolls of paper around him. Except for the two cursive works at the beginning to vent his emotions, he wrote the rest of the works honestly. He wrote what Sangsang thought would sell well. It seemed that there was no plan, but in fact, there were vertical scrolls, horizontal scrolls, long scrolls and even a large central hall, but it had not been mounted yet. The scrolls of paper at the foot of the table seemed to be ink papers of different shapes and sizes.
Ning Que had practiced hard for many years and copied thousands of scrolls, so he was very confident in his handwriting. However, he could not use those skills that he was most confident and proud of in Chang 'an City. Otherwise, if the onlookers asked him which year was the Nine Years of Yonghe and what was the Kuaiji Mountain, how could he answer them? Therefore, he could only copy some poetry collections from the present world, as well as some widely circulated scriptures. However, he believed that even so, after these scrolls of paper were hung on the wall, there would definitely be countless high-ranking officials, nobles, celebrities, and scholars with discerning eyes, who would come after hearing the news.
"Aiya, the threshold will be broken in two days. Looks like we have to prepare for repairs in advance."
Ning Que thought proudly. He stretched his right hand to the wall and tore down the paper roll left by the former owner as if he was pulling out a pile of garbage. When he was about to ask Sangsang to find a framing shop to hang up his masterpiece, he found that the little handmaiden had fallen asleep in the corner of the room, hugging her knees.
"I was just about to ask you to buy two bowls of Chang 'an's famous hot and sour noodles to try."
He looked at the little lass who was sleeping soundly and couldn't help but shake his head. He took a short shirt and covered her body with it. Then, he pushed open the door and walked out. Under the comfortable morning light, he followed the alluring scent of green onions and the hawkers.
"Uncle, how much for a bowl of noodles?"
"So expensive?"
"Look, my shop is over there, and we are all neighbors. How about a cheaper price?"
"Yes, yes, that's the shop. I haven't named it yet."
"I've already thought of a name. I just need to make a signboard. What name?"
"Old Brush Pen Shop."
…
…
In order to get close to the hawker and buy two bowls of cheap hot and sour noodles soup, Ning Que had randomly named the shop. This was somewhat unreasonable no matter how one looked at it. Therefore, Sangsang had no idea about the shop's name, but she could not help mentioning her young master for several years because of this.
All in all, this shop with a shopkeeper who was also a calligrapher, a handmaiden who was also a handyman, and such a strange name, had finally made its debut in Lin 47th Street.
Ning Que's only dissatisfaction with this shop was that it was too far from the framing shop, and framing was too slow. Unfortunately, he was not good at framing, so he had to wait patiently for another two days.
One day, when it rained again in Chang 'an, the shop on Lin 47th Street quietly opened for business. Ning Que was wearing a brand-new scholar's green robe, holding a cheap red clay teapot in his left hand. Standing behind the threshold in front of the wall full of books, he seemed to see a new life waving at him, and that new life was very handsome and pleasant.
"Spring rain is as precious as oil, a good sign!"
He sipped the tea, standing inside the threshold and looking at the wind and rain outside. He said with emotion, "The fragrance of tea and ink is intoxicating. It's really a grand undertaking. Talking and laughing is better than getting drunk in one's life."
The young lad with a tender face was wearing a scholar's green robe, but he did not look handsome at all. Instead, he looked a little comical. Holding the teapot and acting old, he said such words in an old-fashioned tone, which made him look even more adorable.
Someone was sheltering from the rain under the eaves outside the threshold and happened to hear Ning Que's words. He subconsciously turned around and looked at Ning Que. After a slight shock, he could not help but laugh. It was a middle-aged man in a green robe with a sword casually tied to his side. His handsome eyes and brows were naturally free and easy, and his smile instantly brightened the rain outside the eaves.
Ning Que then realized that there was someone outside the threshold and knew that the man had heard his sour words. He could not help but feel a little embarrassed. He coughed twice and turned to look at the corner of the imperial palace in the distance, pretending that nothing had happened.
The middle-aged man was probably a little bored. He turned around and walked into the shop. He casually looked around the wall with his hands behind his back. His eyes showed admiration and surprise, but it seemed that he did not want to take out money.
As the saying goes, a scholar should always have some vigor. Ning Que was too lazy to greet the customer, even though the man was the first customer since the opening of the Old Brush Pen Shop and had a deep historical significance.
After looking around, the middle-aged man walked back to Ning Que and said with a smile, "Little boss …"
Before he could finish his sentence, Ning Que corrected him with a smile, "Please call me boss. Don't call me little boss just because I look young. Just like I won't call you swordsman just because you carry a sword."
"Alright, little boss." The middle-aged man did not change the way he addressed Ning Que. He said with a smile, "I really want to know why you are willing to rent this shop that no one has been willing to rent for three months."
Ning Que replied, "It's a quiet place with a good environment. I have no reason not to rent it."
The middle-aged man smiled slightly and said, "I just want to remind you that the reason why this shop has not been rented out even though it's so cheap is not that other people are dumber than you. It's because the warehouse of the Shipping Department of the Ministry of Revenue is going to be expanded. The Chang 'an Local Government has always wanted to take back the shops on this street. You know that the compensation given by the local government is very little. It's too risky to rent a shop here, and you may lose everything at any time. You said it's quiet here, but didn't you notice that the shops on the side are all closed? "
Ning Que slightly frowned and looked at the man, asking, "Why do you know these things?"
The middle-aged man calmly replied, "Because the shops on both sides of this street are all mine."
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