The sun had already risen, and the morning sunlight completely dispersed the dimness above the attic. Faintly from outside the window came the gradually increasing sounds of voices and vehicles on the streets, along with some unknown birds squawking on nearby rooftops, producing chirping noises.
But all of these did not interrupt Yu Sheng's concentration.
He held a doll's head that was nearly finished shaping — it was still a lump of rather hard clay — and was carefully pressing out the contours of the eyes and nose with a knitting needle, taking a long time to complete this step. He even had to redo it several times before finally reaching a relatively satisfactory condition before the clay became too hard to work with.
