The pencils sent to Gu Qingling are not in the color of a wood. They have been processed by craftsmen below. They have carefully painted a layer of white and painted a bamboo tree. There are also a few furry iron-eating beasts lying next to them.
Gu Qingling was a little amused and crying. Since the giant panda appeared in the "Earth Chronicle" system they sent last time, she showed her love, and the people below seemed to have touched her pulse. No matter what they did, they would have a giant panda pattern.
Although she does prefer giant pandas, are the people below "too lazy"?
It turns out that "if you have something on the top, you will follow it."
Gu Qingling didn't say anything, and tried it after taking the paper and pen.
Before the pen was delivered, someone had peeled it. Gu Qingling held it in her hand and smelled a faint fragrance.
When Gu Qingling saw the wood of the pencil, he twitched: "How do they use sandalwood? It's too wasteful? Sandalwood is a spice, used as a pen... This writing is cut off, and there is no need to use such good wood. I have said many times before, and these things need to be learned to save costs. If the cost is too high, ordinary people can't afford it, and it's useless to design it."
Just like someone designed the "fan" that Gu Qingling wanted based on the principle of the water truck. Gu Qingling was overjoyed and hurried to the scene.
The result is...
That thing is very big, just like a wealthy family like them, but ordinary people can't afford it.
Gu Qingling had no choice but to give this master a suggestion: "Your version is probably affordable by only wealthy families, and it is big and takes up space, and it also requires water... It's too troublesome. Can you design a smaller one, just so high..."
She gestured, "It's so high, the height is almost the same as the height of a person. You can design several types, one is as tall as someone, and the other is placed on the table. You can tilt your hands, step on your feet, and…"
After making the request, Gu Qingling didn't care anymore, and didn't know what they could do to make it happen.
"Old Mrs., isn't this for you? Can it be the same as others use?" The maid Chuntian laughed at the sound of the sound and took out a whole box of pencils. "Look, they have made several types of pencils. This wood-colored pencil is affordable for ordinary people. This patterned, simpler color will not cost a few cents. But a slightly richer family can afford it."
He picked up another pencil that looked very exquisite, "This one looks very delicate at first glance, it is used by a rich man. And this kind of..."
The eldest maid Chuntian introduced them one by one.
It turns out that the pencil made of sandalwood in Gu Qingling's hand is the higher of these levels.
Even Gu Qingling's hand, the one who did not dare to use particularly good sandalwood, but used "scrap". The pencil was just small, and the waste was cut into small pieces and polished, and it was enough.
"Old Mrs., don't worry. You know that you are thinking about the people, and the people below are even more grateful. How can you not do things carefully? But they also know that you open a store to do business and cannot make you lose money. Therefore, according to the old rules, the pencil was divided into three or six or six grades..." The eldest maid Chuntian said with a smile, "Let us ordinary people benefit from it, and then earn the money of those rich."
Gu Qingling laughed when she said this: "If you say this, forget it, don't spread it, otherwise others will laugh at the Yao family after hearing it."
"I will tell you privately. I am not stupid, so I won't run out to talk to others."
Gu Qingling pointed her forehead from the air: "You, you are almost spoiled by me."
"That's also your favorite of the old lady."
...
A few days later, Yao Anhong, Yao Anyi and others received a gift from the old lady Gu Qingling - a set of pencils and notebooks.
When Yao Anhong and Yao Anyi took it out during class, their classmates were all stunned.
"What's this?"
"What are you two holding? Why do you see you writing with sticks during class?"
After class, the students all came to Yao Anhong and Yao Anyi's desk and asked.
Yao Anyi was a little proud: "This is not a stick, it is a gift given to us by the old lady, called a pencil. With this thing, it is much more convenient to take notes when the teacher gives lectures."
While saying that, he took out a piece of paper and started an interview in front of everyone.
When Yao Zimo saw it, he looked shocked: "You can really write?!"
"Of course, I said it, this is a pen."
Jing Jianzhang, a good relationship with Yao Anyi, said: "That... Anyi, can I try it?"
Yao Anyi said: "Of course, I can teach you."
He gave Jing Jianzhang the pen and taught him how to use it.
Why teach?
Because the people who studied in the Yao clan all use brushes, and the method of using pencils is different from that of brushes, if Yao Anyi didn't talk about it, he was afraid that Jing Jianzhang would not only be incorrect in his pen, but also not be able to write ink.
"The pencil can be used a little harder. It is different from a brush. Its hair tip is hard."
"Of course, you can't use too much force. After all, this is ink. If you use too much force, it will break."
"It's okay if I don't know how to use it at the beginning. If the refill is broken, just use a knife to cut it."
...
Under Yao Anyi's suggestion, Jing Jianzhang wrote the first word in pencil - Jing.
Yes, that's right.
He chose his own surname.
From light to heavy, increasing the weight bit by bit, Jing Jianzhang was extremely surprised: "It feels so strange..."
Yao Zimo said without any haste: "What's strange? If you don't want to use it, give it to me. I'm not surprised at all."
Jing Jianzhang glared at him.
Yao Anyi said, "Don't pay attention to him, you write yours. Anyway, everyone has a chance, and I will talk about it after you finish writing."
The people next to him also urged Jing Jianzhang to hurry up, and they also wanted to try.
There was no need for Yao Anyi to greet him. The classmates lined up consciously and waited to try the pencil.
There were too many classmates in the class, and Yao Anyi had no choice but to contribute all the pencils of himself and Yao Anhong.
"Ah...Bian Ren, you tried too hard and the refill was broken!"
"Oh, can you write? Give me the pen, it's my turn."
"I just wrote a word."
...
That's it, and everyone couldn't get it in a single class.
When the teacher walked into the classroom, he saw this picture.
He coughed lightly and asked everyone what they were doing, but he didn't hear the bell ringing in class.
Bian Ren immediately raised the broken pen in his hand and said, "Sir, we are trying out a new pen."
"New pen?"
Jing Jianzhang also said, "Well, it's the new pen from the Yao family, called a pencil. You can write without dipping ink. It's amazing."
When the gentleman heard this, he became interested.
The pen in Bian Ren's hand broke and he couldn't help the teacher, so he asked other students to contribute.
The gentleman tried it and exclaimed: "Can you really write words?!"
"Sir, this is a pen, so of course you can write words. This pen is a bit different from a brush, but this kind of pen is very convenient. If you take notes in class or have something to record when you go out..."
Chapter completed!