Qian Yaya's finished ink sticks had already been placed in the drying room, and she watched Jiang Lingxi still pounding at her lump of ink. She boldly reached out to touch it, her small face thoughtful: "Why do I feel like Teacher Jiang's ink lump is smoother than mine, is that an illusion?"
"Not an illusion," answered the master who also wore a satisfied expression as he looked at the ink lump, "This means the glue has fully merged with the ink, making it smooth and fluid when writing. Also, the ink color already has a subtle blue-purple hue, the proportions are perfect, and with ample pounding, the quality of this ink will definitely rank excellent once completed."
He glanced again at Jiang Lingxi, who was still diligently pounding with a small hammer, now seriously suspecting this young lady wasn't a novice.