I am not a deposed emperor of Han Dynasty

Chapter 253 As soon as this book comes out, the emperor is a saint (for subscription)

More than ten days ago, Wang Shi had already taken office in Taixue, but he still stayed in Menxia Temple for half of his time.

During these half a month, Liu He didn't know what Wang Shi was busy with, but he rarely saw him.

This time, Yu Wuyou quickly found Wang Shi in Xuanshidian.

When Wang Shi saw the paper on the case, he kept sighing in amazement. He held the paper cut into a foot square with both hands, unfolded it to look at the sun for a while, and folded it into small pieces again for a while. ...excited like a child.

After Wang Shi watched it thoroughly, Liu He asked with satisfaction, "Wang Fu, what do you think of this paper?"

"Your Majesty, is this really paper?"

"That's natural, authentic paper."

"It's really wonderful. Compared with Baqiao paper, it's just like cloud and mud."

Baqiao paper is extremely rough, grayish-yellow in color, inferior to linen, but although the current paper is not as smooth as silk, it is as white as silk.

"When Wang Fu saw this paper, what did he most want to use it for?" Liu He asked knowingly.

"Of course it's for writing."

"Then I will ask Wang Fu to give it a try." Liu He said, pushing the pen and ink in front of him to Wang Shi's side, and looked at him with encouraging eyes.

This pen is Liu He's special imperial pen, except for people like Huo Guang who don't know what is good or bad, the rest of the courtiers dare not use it indiscriminately.

But Wang Shi didn't bring a pen with him, but he couldn't resist the temptation to write. After hesitating for a long time, Wang Shi still picked up the pen after a salute, filled it with ink, and started writing on the paper.

"Why don't you say that you have no clothes, and you share the same robe with your son..."

Liu He is very familiar with this poem. It is "Qin Feng Wuyi" in "The Book of Songs". It is a battle song sung by soldiers in front of the battle. It has a heroic spirit.

The whole poem has a total of sixty characters, which is neither too long nor too short. Wang Shi wrote it without stopping, and it was done in one go, very smooth.

After finishing writing, several people held their breaths and looked at the clear-cut characters, not daring to breathe for fear of blowing away the ink on them.

Half a stick of incense has passed, and the edges of the sixty characters are hardly blurred, and they are clearer than those written on silk.

Several people finally breathed a sigh of relief, the paper seemed to be real.

"This thing is really wonderful. It's really wonderful. Using this thing to write, it's easy to preserve, and it won't scatter ink. It's just a god."

Wang Shi was full of praise, and then seemed to remember something, and asked: "Your Majesty, the cost of this thing is not expensive, it is like a square foot, do you want three dollars?"

"Wang Fu, as long as you can make enough fast enough, you can buy a two-foot square for one money." Liu He laughed.

Wang Shi couldn't help but muttered in his mouth: "One foot of silk is ten qian, and two feet of paper is one qian. Doesn't that mean..."

"Wang Fu doesn't need to count anymore, the price of this paper is only one-fiftieth of silk."

"So, is it even cheaper than bamboo slips?" Wang Shi asked in astonishment.

"Well, exactly."

"Wouldn't everyone in the world be able to write on this paper?"

Liu He nodded and said: "Wang Fu sees it thoroughly. If you use this paper to print books, then a copy of "The Analects of Confucius" will be no more than one inch thick at most."

Wang Shi didn't notice the word "yin" in the emperor's words, but he stood up suddenly, bowed to the emperor, and said: "Your Majesty, forgive me. When I was in Changyi, I said that your majesty is rigid It's a small skill, it really deserves death, what His Majesty has done is a great thing that benefits the country and the people."

Unexpectedly, this Wang Shi is so enlightened and transparent, and he can clearly see the importance of this "paper" to the people at a glance.

However, this is not enough, Liu He wants to give the big man's Tai Xueling an even bigger surprise.

"Wang Fumo is excited, I still have something to show Wang Fu."

"What?"

"Wang Fu calm down first, if something happens to Wang Fu, then I will lose my right hand and right arm."

When Liu He said this, Wang Shi, who was already impatient by nature, became even more anxious, but it was not easy to force him, so he poured the cup of cold tea on the case into his palm, and then slapped himself on the face.

"Your Majesty, the old minister has calmed down now, but it doesn't matter. Even if His Majesty takes out the "Book of Songs" written by Confucius himself, the old man will be different."

Liu He was dumbfounded by Wang Shi's "Meng Lang" behavior. After shaking his head, he took out the "Analects of Confucius" hidden under the case.

"Wang Fu, please look at this thing. Although it was not made by the sage Kong, I am afraid that the sage Kong will admire it a few times if he sees it in this world."

Traditional Chinese books have actually gone through a long evolution, and there have been many kinds of forms in the middle.

From the initial bamboo slips and scrolls, to the dragon scales, whirlwinds and sutra foldings that appeared after the promotion of paper in the Eastern Han Dynasty, to the butterfly and backpacks that appeared in printing in the Tang and Song Dynasties, to the masters in the Ming and Qing Dynasties— — Thread bound book…

Books are getting lighter and thinner in material, but more and more reasonable in binding... Coupled with the continuous improvement and improvement of printing technology, when it comes to thread-bound books, it has added a formal beauty, which has become an art.

Liu He skipped the twists and turns of the past thousands of years, and directly let Yu Wuyou and the others make the shape of the book into a thread binding, which is not only beautiful but also practical.

The book before Wang Shi's eyes was very thin, only half an inch thick, and the corners were as smooth as if cut by a knife, and the back of the book was as straight as a girl's back.

The cover is very simple, with "The Analects of Confucius" written in big official script characters on the left side, and the word "Kongqiu" written in much smaller characters.

"Your Majesty, what is this?"

"Of course this is "The Analects of Confucius". Would you like to read it, Wang Fu?"

Wang Shi was very rude. Instead of answering the emperor's question, he reached out and took the "Analects of Confucius" in his hand, and gently opened the first page.

In an instant, Liu He caught a complex expression on Wang Shi's face.

Surprise, ecstasy, obsession, bewilderment... all these expressions appeared on Wang Shi's face in just a few moments, it was very exciting.

Wang Shi didn't look up, let alone speak, but flipped through the pages without a teacher.

Because the time was short and the engraving was still relatively rough, the original text of "The Analects of Confucius" was printed vertically from right to left on this book, and there was no time to add small annotations.

If it was written on bamboo slips, then this "Analects of Confucius" without annotations is not worth mentioning, but when it is printed as a "book", the shocking power is completely different.

It is clearer, more beautiful, and lighter than the "Analects of Confucius" on bamboo slips, and there is an indescribable fragrance of paper and ink.

Wang Shi kept scrolling down, and in the end, like a child who had just been enlightened, he began to read word by word, as if he was seeing "The Analects of Confucius" for the first time.

Liu He lowered his head slightly, seeing the corners of the eyes of this seventy-year-old old man, who did not know when there were a few teardrops.

At first, Liu He felt that it was a bit contrived and exaggerated, but in an instant he was also moved.

I have seen so many kinds of "books" that I no longer have the sense of freshness and expectation.

Before Wang Shi came, Liu He himself was a little excited, but not to the point of crying with joy.

But at this moment, when he saw Wang Shi's mesmerized appearance, Liu He suddenly came to his senses. It wasn't that Wang Shi was too pretentious, but that he was too numb.

Compared with the various knowledge carriers of later generations, the emergence of paper and books is actually infinitely greater.

It's just that people in that era were used to a bizarre world, so they sneered at the most common books around them.

But Wang Shi is different. Although he is a very old man who is used to seeing the vicissitudes of life, he has never seen a "book".

In addition to being a Confucian scholar, Wang Shi can naturally understand the greatness of this "book" in an instant - in the far west, that huge empire is still writing with clay tablets and leaves. How is this possible? long.

As an insider, of course Liu He also knew, so he was quickly moved by Wang Shi's touch.

From this moment on, human knowledge will be transferred from stone, bamboo and silk to "paper".

A new era has begun.

Liu He didn't bother, and waited until Wang Shi had finished flipping through this volume of "The Analects" before he coughed lightly and pulled Wang Shi out of the "book".

"Wang Fu, how about this book?"

"Okay, okay, okay!" Wang Shi said three good things in a row, and there was a choke in his words, and then he sighed: "Your Majesty is really a saint."

(End of this chapter)