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Chapter 243 Buying Four Treasures to Make a Poor Scholar Laughable

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    There was quite a commotion at the intersection of Xuanwu Street in Chang'an City last night, and even the governor of Chang'an Prefecture was alarmed.

    However, this matter was not reported to the court. According to the reports of the people on Xuanwu Street, there should have been a fight between gangsters and thieves on Xuanwu Street last night.

    "But the fight between these gangsters and thieves actually destroyed Tianxiang Tower, which turned out to be a strange story.

    Du Xuanhuai, the Yin of Chang'an Prefecture, strictly ordered a thorough investigation of the matter and the arrest of the culprit. The most qualified police officers in the entire Chang'an Prefecture were dispatched.

    At ten o'clock in the morning, the gate of Chang'an City opened, and the gate guards conducted strict checks on the people coming in and out.

    At this time, a young scholar who looked rather shabby came in. He had nothing to offer and looked poor at first glance.

    The guard responsible for the interrogation glanced at the scholar and asked casually: "Where did it come from?"

    The scholar quickly said: "He's from Nan Province."

    "Southern Province?" the guard asked again, "Is there a road?"

    "Yes, yes, yes." The scholar took out the road note and handed it to the guard.

    The guard took a closer look and said, "Zhang Daoling? Going to Beijing to make a living?"

    "Yes." Zhang Daoling said in response.

    The guard handed the road note back and said, "Go in."

    "Thank you." Zhang Daoling took back the road, put it back in his arms, thanked the guards, and then entered Chang'an City.

    Chang'an City has wide streets, bustling markets, and tall buildings.

    Businessmen and envoys from various countries and places all lamented the prosperity of Chang'an and the prosperity of the country of poetry, calligraphy, etiquette and music.

    Zhang Daoling was walking in the market, listening to the cries of vendors on both sides, but looking towards the north of the city.

    On the bustling streets, a group of soldiers wearing helmets and armor and holding halberds walked by from time to time.

    From time to time, you will see an official sedan passing through the bustling crowd, or a few government officials and police officers walking through the crowd.

    Zhang Daoling walked on the street, heading north.

    "Sir, do you want to stay at the inn?" A boy standing at the door of the inn asked Zhang Daoling.

    Zhang Daoling turned around and said, "I want to live here, how much will it cost?"

    The boy smiled and said, "It costs one hundred cents to stay a night."

    Zhang Daoling was a little disappointed and said, "I just have ninety-nine cents left on me, can I get a discount?"

    The boy said very politely: "It's a small business, so there will be no discounts."

    "I can tell stories." Zhang Daoling said, "My books are very good."

    The boy shook his head and said, "We don't want storytellers in our inn. You can ask at Duiguo'er Restaurant."

    "Okay." Zhang Daoling shook his head, turned around and left.

    Along the way, other inn boys kept asking: "Do you want to stay in the hotel?"

    "Sir, come in and have a cup of tea."

    "Sir, would you like to come in and listen to me playing the piano?"

    But Zhang Daoling refused very politely: "Sorry, I don't have money."

    After walking for half an hour, we arrived at Xuanwu Street in the north of the city, where we could see the collapsed archway and ruins from a distance.

    Zhang Daoling walked to the ruins at the intersection of Xuanwu Street and looked at the government officials standing guard and the people watching and discussing.

    Soon, he saw a study shop.

    In the study shop, of course, the main products sold are the four treasures of the study, which are 'pen, ink, paper and inkstone', and of course some books.

    Zhang Daoling entered the shop. The shopkeeper was a middle-aged man wearing a Confucian shirt and a hat. He had a quiet temperament and a gentle manner.

    "Sir, what do you want?" The shopkeeper stood up and looked at Zhang Daoling and asked.

    Zhang Daoling took out fifty copper coins from his pocket and said, "Please, shopkeeper, please sell me a set of pen, ink, paper and inkstone for these fifty cents."

    The shopkeeper glanced at the bunch of copper coins and said with a smile: "Fifty cents can only buy the lowest four treasures of the study."

    "It's okay, just take it first. It's useless to be so good." Zhang Daoling said.

    The shopkeeper smiled slightly and said: "That's right, you are not Wang Xizhi or Wu Daozi, so it is useless to have such good pen, ink, paper and inkstone."

    Soon, the shopkeeper placed a gray pottery inkstone, a wool brush, a rough-quality ink stick, and a stack of rough paper in front of Zhang Daoling.

    Zhang Daoling thanked him, picked up his pen, ink, paper and inkstone and walked out.

    The shopkeeper saw Zhang Daoling coming to Xuanwu Street with those pens, inks, papers and inkstones.Under the blue brick wall at the entrance.

    He smiled slightly. These scholars who had just arrived in the capital had either spent all their money or were extremely poor, so they had to sell their writing to make a living.

    But he didn¡¯t mean to ridicule, after all, everyone is a scholar.

    I saw Zhang Daoling coming to the wall, first picking up a piece of paper and sticking it on the wall, then picking up another piece of paper and sticking it next to the previous piece of paper.

    Strangely enough, these papers stuck to them with just a slight press of Zhang Daoling's fingers, and they would not fall off even if the wind blows.

    In less than a moment, Zhang Daoling pasted twenty pieces of white paper to form a huge white paper on the wall.

    At this time, the people around him gradually looked over. They looked at Zhang Daoling's dress, his movements, and the pen, ink, paper and inkstone at his feet, and they immediately understood the scholar's intention.

    "Sir, are you selling your words?" A middle-aged man asked Zhang Daoling curiously.

    Zhang Daoling shook his head and said, "I won't sell it."

    "Huh?" The middle-aged man looked at Zhang Daoling strangely, and then looked at the huge piece of white paper on the wall.

    Suddenly, he suddenly said: "Then sir, you want to sell paintings?"

    Zhang Daoling shook his head and said, "I won't sell it either."

    "What is this, sir?" the middle-aged man asked doubtfully.

    Zhang Daoling said while grinding: "This is performance art, do you understand?"

    "Performance art?" The middle-aged man muttered this weird word, shook his head and said, "I don't understand."

    Zhang Daoling said: "If you don't understand, that's fine. If you don't understand, it's called performance art. If you understand, it's called traditional culture."

    ¡°Hey, that¡¯s weird, I¡¯ve lived half my life and I¡¯ve never heard you say anything like this.¡± The middle-aged man chuckled.

    Zhang Daoling looked at the polished ink, picked up the brush and dipped it in, and immediately a hair forked and fell off.

    The middle-aged man shook his head and said, "Tsk, tsk, tsk, your writing brush is really bad."

    Zhang Daoling said helplessly: "If a person has no money, his clothes will fall off, let alone his writing brush."

    "What you said makes sense." The middle-aged man became more interested in Zhang Daoling, "I want to see what you want to do?"

    "I want Master Yin of Chang'an Prefecture to invite me to tea." Zhang Daoling said.

    "Hahaha!"

    "Bragging."

    "Why does Master Yin invite you, a poor scholar, to tea?"

    The crowd of people watching suddenly burst into cheerful laughter. Zhang Daoling did not refute and said, "You will know later that what I said is true."

    Everyone immediately started laughing again. Some were sarcastic towards Zhang Daoling, while others said he was losing his mind and going crazy.

    There were some who made fun of him, and some who were just watching the fun.

    In short, the crowd at the intersection of Xuanwu Street is full of joy.  (Remember the website address: www.hlnovel.com
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