Hua Jin looked at the slightly yellowed and blackened paper and sighed; this must be the worst quality paper, yet many scholars still cannot afford it.
Hua Jin thought and thought, finally folding the paper into several pieces. When she picked up the brush and looked at the barely legible writing she had done before, she put the brush down again.
The paper was too expensive to waste casually, and she also didn't trust her own hand. How could such a soft brush be controlled by someone who has only been practicing calligraphy for a few days?
She immediately put the brush back where it belonged, suddenly stood up, and ran out.
The sudden movement stunned her two brothers and even the fourth brother, who was scratching his head in frustration.
"Fourth brother, concentrate, you have half a cup of tea's time left. If you can't finish writing, you won't need to sleep tonight." Hua Yunao withdrew his gaze from the doorway and threatened his younger brother.
