The Immortal Cultivation World of Male Inferiority and Female Supremacy-Chapter 127 - . Your sense of humor threshold is too low

Chapter 127: 127. Your sense of humor threshold is too low

After the Yellow Mud Boards were all made, Cheng Xing had finished writing all the characters she knew, which filled two sheets of paper, totaling nearly ten thousand characters.

To her surprise, she had a good memory, and her handwriting was beautiful.

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Unlike Fang Zhou, whose brush-written characters were all crooked and slanted, comprehensible only to himself; they could very well be used as a code.

Fang Zhou asked the gourd children to help by cutting out these characters one by one and pasting them in reverse on the Yellow Mud Boards, then carving according to the traces of the characters.

After carving, each character was cut into a rectangular stamp of uniform length, width, and height.

He also made some larger mud stamps for use as titles.

In the end, it was the fourth child who breathed fire to harden these mud stamps by firing them.

Due to improper control of the fire, many were burnt and had to be redone.

While engaging in these activities, the gourd children were very puzzled, especially Cheng Xing who was particularly dissatisfied, thinking that Fang Zhou combining writing with mud digging was downright a desecration of the sacred characters.

However, as the mud stamps gradually took shape, Cheng Xing seemed to realize what Fang Zhou was up to, her eyes growing increasingly bright.

She peeked at Fang Zhou’s back several times, biting her lower lip, looking as if she had something to say but hesitated.

But Fang Zhou didn’t have time to pay attention to her. While the fourth child was firing the mud stamps, Fang Zhou took the third child Huang Lian to look for some sturdy wood to chop into planks for making movable type frames.

Huang Lian, tough as copper and iron, worked very efficiently, but her face was stern throughout, ignoring Fang Zhou with evident hostility.

Sometimes Fang Zhou wondered, where did this third child harbor such a grudge against him?

He hadn’t taken any advantages of her, had he?

But these issues could be discussed later. For now, the priority was to make tools.

After Huang Lian chopped out the wooden planks, Fang Zhou personally started to create rectangular frames out of these planks.

The thickness of the wooden planks had to be slightly lower than the height of the stamps, and the length and width of the wooden frames matched whole multiples of the size of the mud stamps, with an extra length for convenient installment of the mud stamps.

Fang Zhou then added a few more planks inside the movable type frame to create columns as in newspapers.

Once the movable type frame was finished, Fang Zhou filled it with the fired mud stamps.

He took a silk cloth, dipped it in ink to apply it evenly over the mud stamps, then covered it with carefully cut white paper, patting the back of the paper gently and evenly.

The gourd children watched the entire process, each with mud stains on their faces or bodies, looking as if they had just climbed out of a mud pit.

But at that moment, they were too excited to care about their appearances, eyes glued to Fang Zhou’s movements, not willing to miss a second.

After even patting, Fang Zhou lifted the paper to reveal neat and clear small characters printed on the snow-white paper.

Thus, the movable type printing was successfully created.

Although six out of the seven gourd children couldn’t read, that didn’t stop them from instinctively cheering “ohhhhhhhhhhh” when they saw the paper filled with characters!

This was the joy and sense of achievement they felt after their hard work paid off.

Cheng Xing, with shining eyes and an excited face, even her breathing became heavy.

Among the sisters, only Cheng Xing could read and was eager to learn, clearly understanding human language and culture, so only she knew what Fang Zhou’s method meant.

According to her understanding, human printing was currently based on block printing, which had already broken the monopoly of knowledge by the gentry, but the cost of carving blocks was still too high and labor-intensive.

If Fang Zhou’s method could be spread, the cost of acquiring knowledge would face an unprecedented reduction, similar to the previous two reductions brought by the invention of Papermaking and printing technology.

“How did you come up with this method?”

Cheng Xing took the initiative to talk to Fang Zhou, her tone so excited that she even stuttered.

Fang Zhou glanced at her and casually replied, “Stand on your head for two hours each day, let the blood rush to the brain to increase its oxygen content, take the high ground with IQ, and you’ll become smarter.”

“Handstand?”

Cheng Xing was somewhat bewildered, completely unable to understand what Fang Zhou was talking about.

But very soon, she looked as if she was lost in thought.

Fang Zhou continued to appreciate the printed newspaper. There were places where the ink was blurred or faint, but overall it didn’t affect reading, next, it just needed to be dried.

He called over Cheng Xing, who was still pondering, and dictated the content for her to record. Then, she selected the clay character stamps for each character and placed them into the movable type frame.

This first edition of the newspaper must become a hit, to establish a reputation.

To this end, Fang Zhou decided to add some explosive content.

A newspaper with four pages, he planned two pages for Cultivation World news, one page for jokes and short stories, and the last page for serialized fiction.

Cheng Xing wrote quickly. Fang Zhou dictated normally, and she could record everything without missing a single word.

With such speed, even if she didn’t become a monster, she could make a living as a stenographer.

Fang Zhou first dictated a dozen news articles about the Cultivation World, with shocking titles and content. The Calabash siblings became more and more alarmed as they listened, and Cheng Xing’s hand even began to tremble as she wrote.

She hadn’t realized the Cultivation World was so dangerous and terrifying; staying in Lanruo Temple, they really had a narrow view of the world.

Moreover, the fact that Fang Zhou, so young, knew so much secret information, was truly astonishing to the Calabash siblings.

Seeing the Calabash siblings’ unusual expressions, Fang Zhou asked in confusion, “Why do you all look like you’re constipated? Is there a problem?”

Cheng Xing hesitated and said, “The secrets you’re talking about—should we really write them down? Won’t we offend anyone?”

Fang Zhou was slightly taken aback, then couldn’t help but burst into laughter.

He intended this newspaper to be like a tabloid, hence the veracity of these so-called news and exposés was as you’d imagine—all made up by his own imagination, not involving any specific locations or sects.

He didn’t expect the Calabash siblings to take it seriously.

Fang Zhou had no interest in explaining it to them clearly, waving his hand grandly: “Since I dare to do it, there’s no problem. Continue writing.”

Cheng Xing could only continue writing. The dozen or so news articles almost filled up the two pages.

After finishing the news, Fang Zhou and Cheng Xing worked together to pick out the necessary clay stamps and arranged them in the movable type frame. If they were missing one or two characters, they quickly made them.

After the typesetting was finished, they let the eldest Calabash sister print the two pages of news and then set them aside to dry.

Fang Zhou continued to dictate jokes and short stories. To make them more comprehensible to readers of this era, he didn’t choose internet jokes, but rather ones that were consistent with the time period.

“A villager went to a temple to buy manure. The male monk asked for double the price. The villager was surprised. The monk said: ‘This manure is different from elsewhere. It’s solidly produced by the masters here. Once diluted, one load can yield two!'”

“Pfft—”

As a result, Cheng Xing understood it right away and couldn’t hold back her laughter, causing all the hardworking Calabash siblings to perk up their ears.

“Sorry!”

Cheng Xing took a deep breath, regained her composure, and put on a serious face.

Fang Zhou looked at her surprisedly. As soon as the joke was out, the second Calabash sister instantly understood, indicating she must have seen this kind of material before.

He thought for a while and told the second joke: “A Cultivator passed by a wild graveyard and was hurt by a ghost, but a passerby saved him. The Cultivator said: ‘Thanks for saving me, I have nothing to repay you, but take this ghost repellent charm as a token of my gratitude.'”

“Pfft… Hahaha!”

Before Cheng Xing even laughed, the nearby eavesdropping Calabash siblings burst into laughter, even the always serious Huang Lian quietly turned her head aside, her shoulders shaking uncontrollably.

The Calabash siblings laughed together, while Fang Zhou remained expressionless.

These monsters’ sense of humor was way too low.