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The writing brush was of a medium size, commonly used in calligraphy, with nothing special about it.
The pigment being used was a dark, subdued green that conveyed a sense of age through its settled appearance.
The person holding the brush grasped it midway with effortless skill, sometimes drawing thick lines, sometimes adding delicate strokes within the light ones. Just a few strokes down, and the entire body of the vase was outlined.
The originally colorless ceramic came to life under her brush, as if reverting to its former glory.
The two who entered were stunned.
"..."
"!!!"
"Tangtang... Junior Sister Tang?!"
Fang Yining exclaimed in disbelief, his eyes wide open as he scanned back and forth between Tang Shu and the ceramic piece.
Tang Shu hummed in acknowledgment, and after finishing a line with her brush, turned to look at the two of them.
"Professor Cao, Senior Fang, you have arrived?"
