The Hanyin Inn sent over ordinary hemp paper, no match for the fine yellow hemp paper produced at the Lu Clan Estate in Huating. It was rather rough, but the brush was good, a small-tube wolf-hair brush. The wolf hairs held a firm point and had plenty of spring. As the tip met the coarse, loosely textured paper, there was sometimes a sense of resistance during the sweeping and hooking strokes, yet writing with it had a peculiar charm of its own.
Historical records said that Ouyang Xun was particular about neither paper nor brush and could write freely with anything, bringing out the best in each. In Chen Caozhi's experience, however, tough paper could take soft bristles, while softer paper suited wolf hair. A short tip was unsuitable for fine strokes and small characters; a long tip was unsuitable for heavy, plump, rounded lettering. A dry brush was best for Zhangcao script and flying-white strokes, while soft bristles suited both running and regular scripts. Now he was using a small-tube wolf-hair brush on coarse hemp paper to record music: the string-instrument notation of Yan music half-character notation. In the flickering lamplight, incomplete Chinese characters and tadpole-shaped notes flowed forth...
Xie Daoyun and Xie Xuan sat facing each other across the stove. Xie Xuan occupied himself with drinking, secretly laughing. His elder sister and Zizhong had spent more than a day alone together, yet tonight she had insisted on dragging him along. Heh, after half a year as an official, his elder sister still had not forgotten that she was a woman.
Xie Daoyun took a light sip of the newly brewed Shanyin wine in her cup, savoring its warmth and sweetness as she watched Chen Caozhi. His brush never stopped, but now and then his brows drew together slightly