"That's not how you hold a brush," Sang Zhi said.
Ye Qianning glanced down and moved her small hand a little lower. "Like this?"
"Like this." Sang Zhi reached out and adjusted her grip, separating her tightly clenched fingers.
No matter what kind of pen or brush she used, Ye Qianning always held it however was most comfortable. It was the same with chopsticks; the way she used her fingers was very different from other people.
The way she was holding the brush now was the same grip she used when she painted.
Now that her grip had been corrected, she tentatively touched the brush to the Xuan paper. 'Great...' she thought. 'Traditional characters already have so many strokes and are hard enough to write. This is even more difficult.'
A single, crooked character took up half the sheet of paper, and she was writing even more slowly than before.
Qian Zhuye stifled a laugh. "You'll be lucky if you can finish copying it even once today."
