"Come on, don't smudge it," Shang Qinghua whines, smacking Shen Jiu's hand away. He lifts a finger to point, hovering uncertainly over one end, then he decisively points at the other ink blob. "It'sssssss...that one. Yeah, see the stables? There's a cellar door just behind them. It shouldn't be too hard to get past the guards at night if we treat them all to drinks."

The stables are...a scribbly rectangle. It's not a blob, that's the important thing here!