Surrounded by an enraptured crowd, Allison gently picked up a piece of y and sprinkled it with water.
It was then that Ken realized she had been deliberately slowing down her pace to guide him through the basics.
Within a minute, the y in his hands had already begun to transform.
The art of sculpting gave way to the precision of carving.
“It’s like watching a movie,” someone murmured in amazement.
Colton and Mny, who had previously ridiculed Allison, were now showing visible signs of anxiety, their foreheads glistening with sweat.
They scrutinized his every move, wary of any hint of deception.
Ken expected Allison to need his help, but she only asked him asionally to hand her a file.
“Take the smallest one,” she ordered calmly, her voice a firm anchor in the charged atmosphere.
Her hands moved with deliberate grace and the y seemed to yield to her touch,ing to life beneath her deft fingers.
Ken handed her the smaller file from behind.
In that fleeting touch, he caught the scent of plum blossoms again.
A lump formed in her throat and she gently wiped the sweat from Allison''s forehead with a clean handkerchief, her fingers gently brushing her smooth skin.
As she pulled her hand away, she felt a strange sense of familiarity.
He marveled that her skin could be as smooth and fine as porcin.
But Allison seemedpletely absorbed in her work, never losing focus.
With a quick flick of her finger, a piece of y woulde loose and her slender fingers would move like a butterfly, expertly shaping the material.
A gentle brushstroke breathed life into the y, capturing the essence of a majestic mountain.
At that moment, Ken felt an unusual calm, as if they were thest two people on earth, standing next to the ceramics that surrounded them.
There were no ns, no bloodshed, just a serene space that seemed to ease the constant uneasiness that ran through him.
Allison was enigmatic, young but extremely serene, distant and aloof, as if her heart was hidden from everyone.
She reminded Ken of the woman he had met that crazy night.
She had effortlessly disarmed him and disappeared in the morning.
During her most fervent moments, her gaze had been as distant as an ancient cier, motionless in solemnity.
In the small courtyard, the initial murmurs of admiration gave way to a deep silence as everyone''s attention remained focused solely on Allison.
The collective breathlessness around them was palpable.
Even Colton, who had anticipated Allison’s failure, was now struggling to process the scene before him.
“How can this be…?”
Suddenly he remembered the little ceramic dog Allison had given him three years ago.
In a fit of nostalgia, he had smashed it against the floor.
The cute little figure had splintered into pieces, possibly cutting off his arm… or maybe not… At the moment, his attention was elsewhere.
Since then, Allison had be even more reserved and had not offered him anything again.
Colton felt a pang of regret, realizing he might have overlooked something deeply significant.
As the day drew to a close and the sun began to set, Allison finished her masterpiece.
The entire process had been wless.
Emanuel could barely contain his excitement.
“Excellent! Simply excellent.
”
When Allison looked up, a ck handkerchief was extended to her.
She calmly epted it, wiping her brow, as cheers erupted that nearly shook the heavens.
Even Ken’s eyes sparkled with amusement.
"I would pay a fortune to have Miss rke run my pottery gallery," someone dered.
A few began to vie for her favour.
Emanuel was quick to kick everyone out.
"Go away! My shop is closed for the whole month.
"
Then she carefully picked up the patterned tea set, her eyes filled with tears.
“This set is really magnificent! Looking at it, I can die without regrets!”
"Nonsense, you''ll live to be a hundred," Allison reassured him.
Emanuel''s fondness for beautiful ceramics was well known.
With a serene expression, Allison turned her gaze towards the now embarrassed figures.
"Since you''ve epted the bet, it''s time for you to kneel down!"