The facts proved that spirituality was not all the same.
The Ancient Pottery House's spirituality was deep and weighty, its spiritual radiance contained within. The pottery-house components Shen Le had newly fired, however, possessed a lively, jumping spirituality, as though they might stand up and dance on their own at any moment.
Shen Le barely managed to piece them together, brushing Fish Maw Glue into the seams and securing them with specially made clamps. He had just finished the job and turned to take a sip of water when he heard a sharp snap behind him.
When he turned around, the Fish Maw Glue in the middle had split apart... split apart... split apart...
The Ancient Pottery House fragments stood firm as mountains, unmoving where they had been fixed. The components Shen Le had newly fired had strained outward by nearly half a centimeter, even forcing the clamps open.
The Fish Maw Glue between them had stretched into a long, visible strand, looking like a heart-rending scream:
"I don't want to get close to it! I don't want to become one with it!"
Well, this...
Was having too much spirituality no good either? Should he cut it in half? Or reduce it by a third?
Shen Le went back and forth, fiddling with it another seven or eight times. Too much spirituality would not work—the pieces would struggle on their own, utterly unwilling to merge with the Ancient Pottery House.
Too little spirituality would not work either. It could not support the structure or nourish the Ancient Pottery House enough for its original power to seep through.
More flour, add water; more water, add flour. In one breath, he adjusted the ratio of local porcelain clay to spiritual porcelain clay to the bizarre figure of 235:765, finally making them reluctantly