That was fast. When Xu Qiguang returned after washing his face, he saw his Changqing had already slapped together a few decent-looking mud trays.
He had no idea what the quality was like, though. Usually, her grandfather would help her make similar braziers, and they'd had their share of failed attempts. Yet if someone bought them a ready-made one, the two of them would always find fault with it.
Xu Qiguang was just about to tell his daughter to go wash her hands. But instead, she picked up a half-basin of mud that had been mixed at some point, set it on the windowsill, and quickly hopped into the house.
'What a little rascal.'
Xu Changqing grinned at her father, holding the basin of mud. Then she pointed toward the West Outer Room—a signal that her mother and baby siblings were still sleeping, so he couldn't scold her loudly.
