Chang Xian folded the paper into a rectangle, soaked it in rice water, then took it out and covered it with a wet cloth, then folded a piece of dry paper on top and pressed it with his hands to ensure even humidity.

After finishing it, I picked up the pen and dipped it in rice water and brushed it on the paper again, then pressed it on the surface of the monument and stuck it together on all sides.

Finally, I sucked the water carefully with the felt next to my hand, changed the brown brush, and brushed out all the air bubbles between the paper and the monument.

This set of procedures is complicated to say but quick to do.

Chang Xian thought to himself that this was just as difficult as a primary school handicraft class, and couldn't help but grin.

Unexpectedly, just this time, I swung the brown brush in my hand and used a little more force, and the paper was torn.

If a piece of tablet rubbing is damaged, the whole piece will be useless. He beat his head in frustration, took off the paper, and replaced it with another one.

A lesson learned, I was careful this time, and finally there was no problem, and the paper was completely flat.

After finishing the paper, it’s time to type.

This is an extremely delicate job, which requires people to use a brush and a small wooden hammer to tap the gaps between the strokes, so that the rice paper can enter the mouth of the words and completely adhere to the concave surface of the monument.

The number of characters on this stone tablet is very small, only four characters, the font is very large, and the difficulty cannot be smaller.

Chang Xian knew that this was the old man asking him to go from easy to difficult. If it started with an upright stone tablet with a few hundred words, it would be impossible to complete it even if he killed him. It would only cause a lot of frustration.

But even if there are only four big characters, it takes a lot of patience to type them in one by one.

Chang Xian lay there banging and banging for half an hour before standing up panting and feeling a little dizzy.

"Can doing such meaningless and repetitive manual labor really help me cultivate my state of mind and develop a calm mind? Why can't I do something else if I have this time? Why do I feel that I am getting more and more irritable?"

Chang Xian was a little impatient, so he dropped the brush and wanted to leave here, but suddenly he saw the four words "Sorrow and Joy" covered by the white paper.

These four characters are different from Master Hongyi's sharp, quiet and peaceful style. Instead, they are based on Huangshan Valley's style. The writing is powerful and the characters are formed freely without any laxity. They are like holding a spear and a halberd to reach the ghosts and gods of heaven and earth.

Sad and happy?

And Yelieye?

"You must always do things consistently."

Chang Xian clenched his fists and encouraged himself.

Since you are a disciple, you must obey your master's orders.

If you don't sweep one house, why sweep the world?

You can't even carve out a single monument, so why are you talking so much about collecting it?

Take some time to calm down.

When I returned to the hut, I walked to the desk and saw all kinds of rubbings and inscriptions placed next to it, all of which were the old man's own rubbings.

The time and place numbers are written in the lower right corner of the rubbings. Each rubbing is accompanied by an article to record the scene at that time, but he did not leave his own name. He wrote every stroke and was meticulous. Occasionally, there were mistakes.

Every place is covered with white paper, which is very careful.

After careful counting, I found that there were about two hundred such rubbings, covering a period of eighteen years, and I couldn't help but feel a shiver in my heart.

What kind of state of mind does an old man in his dying years live in seclusion in the city, isolated from the world, living in poverty and living happily, and for nearly forty years he has devoted himself to carving monuments and monuments?

The changes in the world and the earth-shaking, in the eyes of the old man, are probably as easy as the breeze blowing on the face.

Chang Xian closed his eyes and seemed to see the old man bending over his desk and watching the lantern alone.

Between the lines of these stone tablet rubbings, I can feel an awe-inspiring spirit.

It echoes the spirit of Master Hongyi, a noble son who gave up his prosperity and practiced asceticism; full of talents, he escaped into the deserted garden to explore the black and white.

They are all powerful wills that burn their mortal bodies to seek truth.

Chang Xian did not peep at what was written in those manuscripts, but respectfully exited his "study", feeling increasingly ashamed of his impetuousness, shallowness, and despicableness.

At noon, Chang Xian cooked an egg for himself, ate it hastily, then went back outside and stood in front of the stone monument.

The lettering has all been smashed, and the next step is to officially rub the ink.

He looked down at the white rice paper on the monument and concentrated on these four characters.

The old man's ink puffs are ready-made here.

Ink puffs, also called tuobao, are two garlic-shaped cotton bags with two layers of silk on the outside and a flat bottom.

Chang Xian used a brush to apply ink on the porcelain plate. It was pine smoke ink, and the ink quality was very good. The old man also added half a bowl of egg white to it, so it was shiny.

Chang Xian put the ink on the ink, rubbed it together to make it even, then picked up one of them and threw it towards the paper.

According to the book, the ink brush needs to be rubbed gently, first lightly and then heavily, and repeated three or four times until the black and white are as bright as black gold and the black and white are clear.

But Chang Xian soon discovered that this Motuo, like skating, sounds simple, but in fact it is quite difficult.

It's awkward to hold the ink puff in your hand, let alone apply it.

The book says that ink rubbing should be done "lightly first and then heavy". What counts as light and what counts as heavy?

I can understand the words, but it is difficult to understand.

This thing is just like the recipe, a little oil, a little salt, a little light soy sauce, who can control it?

Chang Xian took the ink puff and wiped it piece by piece, and he felt like "raising the pen like a cauldron". Either it was too shallow, or it turned into a big ball of ink.

I finally made a line, but it looks like a mixture of ink and ink, which is terrible to look at.

I wanted to touch it up, but I applied too much force and the rice paper wrinkled, so I had to flatten it first and then do it again.

Chang Xian gritted his teeth and finally finished the rubbing. He lowered his head and took a look. Not to mention whether the ink was applied evenly or not, the words were all unevenly inked, making it unbearable to look at.

He analyzed it and found that he probably wasn't careful enough when he typed the words in the morning. The paper and the surface of the monument were not completely attached, so the unevenness of the carved words could not be seen, and it was naturally impossible to read them when they were carved out.

After working like this for a whole afternoon, Chang Xian used up seven or eight pieces of rice paper. He was so tired that he couldn't get out any of them.

Only then did he realize that this craft seemed easy, but it was much more difficult than carrying bricks on a construction site.

As evening approached, the old man Shi Shiran walked to the hut, followed by Xiao Man, holding a bamboo basket in his mouth. There was a small bag of rice in the bamboo basket, weighing about two or three kilograms.

Chang Xian was so busy that he was sweating profusely but got nothing. The old man stared at him for a while, shook his head, and leaned over to demonstrate a few times himself.

This artist's craftsmanship can be said to be very light and smooth. I didn't see how his arms moved. The surface of the monument has been coated with a thin and even layer of black ink. His movements are smooth and relaxed, which makes people feel relaxed and happy.

The old man put down his ink puff and said eight words calmly: "Don't move your fingers, just use your wrist."

Chang Xian tried it once and the effect was really good.

He was about to lean over and continue wiping, but the old man stopped him.

"It's getting late. Let's cook and eat first and then talk about it tomorrow."

The old man said, the clouds were calm and the wind was gentle.

It was dawn the next morning, and Chang Xian was sleeping in a daze when he suddenly felt someone tugging on his arm.

When he opened his eyes, he saw Xiao Man tugging at his sleeve.

Chang Xian got up and saw the old man cooking a pot of porridge in an iron pot. There were several bags of mustard on the table and a few slices of bacon on the plate.

This is a sin, who can bear it?

Chang Xian blushed and called "Master", and the old man said calmly: "Everything depends on the heart but not on the deeds. On the deeds of a poor family, there is no filial son. Don't care about the superficial details."

Chang Xian respectfully served a bowl of porridge to the old man.
Chapter completed!