Although time was tight, and Jiang Han was so tired she could barely lift her hands, processing ingredients was mechanical labor. She could cut them apart on instinct alone.
The moment Jiang Han touched an Ai Jun Mushroom, her mind analyzed the thickness of its cap and how she should bring down the knife.
One clean, decisive cut went down. At the same time, her fingers deftly released it, then gripped it again in a reverse pick-like hold and sliced upward. A delicate V-shaped opening was complete.
This lady's knife skills had been honed through twenty years of cutting paper!
Jiang Han looked at the sliced "White An Jun Horse," her heart brimming with pride.
In her previous life, her job often required writing letters while working in areas with poor signal, maintaining public order, or looking after left-behind children.
Some areas practically had no signal at all, so primitive letter delivery was widely used there. She handled more than twenty letters a day, sometimes nearly fifty—on weekends.
Sometimes, people wanted to send letters of thanks to those who had helped them, and she would write them on their behalf.
Besides giving her a sense of accomplishment, that work had also given her excellent skill with a paper knife.
The lack of magic enhancing her physical strength truly felt awful. Once she was done, she looked at Jiang Miao beside her, who was rubbing her wrist. "For a beginner, you did pretty well."
She offered that restrained bit of praise.
Jiang Miao's smile was as bright as sunshine, as though there were some joy hidden in this sort of mechanical labor.
"I think I did pretty well too. Maybe I can consider specializing in alchemy alongside music." She praised herself with absolutely no restraint.
Once you grow up, you'll realize