Chapter 8: The Exhibition

Shi Mengxi’s driving skills were excessively good.

She sped along right at the speed limit the whole way, and the sharp turns and sudden brakes nearly made Lu Jia dizzy.

Seated in the back, Lu Jia gripped the seatbelt tightly, feeling her morning yogurt and iced bread churning in her stomach.

She glanced at Rong Yi through the rearview mirror, but the woman sat unmoved like a pine tree, her face perfectly calm.

Is this what it means for a mentor to remain unruffled?

Lu Jia sighed inwardly.

After getting out of the car, Lu Jia pressed her temples. “Senior Sister, do you drive often?”

Shi Mengxi beamed. “Not bad. The other senior sisters and junior sisters usually take good care of me and insist on driving themselves, saying they’re afraid I’ll get tired.”

She handed the car keys back to Rong Yi while continuing, “It’s been a while since I drove, though. My skills might be rusty.”

“It’s fine.”

Rong Yi looked down to retrieve the guest badge. “Let’s go.”

Lu Jia paused, swallowing her words.

She’d have to rent a car sometime to practice. Next time, she wouldn’t trouble Senior Sister Shi with driving; she was afraid of tiring her out too.

The opening ceremony was lively.

Rong Yi sat in the front guest seating, while Lu Jia and Shi Mengxi stood in the crowd behind.

Lu Jia was never comfortable in large crowds, but Shi Mengxi gripped her wrist firmly, saying she was afraid Lu Jia would get lost. Lu Jia had no choice but to stiffen her back and try to listen to the lengthy speeches on stage.

After several rounds of applause, the opening ceremony finally ended.

The crowd dispersed toward the exhibition halls on either side, and Rong Yi came over to find them. “Let’s go take a look too.”

The exhibition halls were divided into several themes, featuring printmaking works of various techniques. Rong Yi specialized in woodblock printing, so when she spotted certain pieces, she waited for the crowd around them to thin before pulling them over for a detailed explanation.

Most of the questions fell to Shi Mengxi, from techniques to material choices.

Lu Jia listened to their back-and-forth, occasionally asking a question herself or sharing her own thoughts.

When someone came over to chat with Rong Yi, she used the excuse, “I brought my students; we can talk in detail next time,” exchanged a few brief pleasantries, and then pulled them away.

Shi Mengxi whispered in her ear, “Our mentor’s a bit socially anxious, but she loves exhibitions. She always uses us as shields.”

Lu Jia nodded.

It was clear Advisor Rong was even more socially anxious than she was.

Rong Yi had other matters to attend to and, after about an hour, called a designated driver to leave first, letting them continue browsing on their own.

“I haven’t had breakfast yet, Little Lu. Want to head out?”

Shi Mengxi rubbed her stomach and nudged Lu Jia’s elbow with a grin. “Advisor Rong’s gone; we can bail too.”

Lu Jia politely declined. “I’ll look around a bit more. Senior Sister, go back and grab something to eat. Drive safe.”

Shi Mengxi nodded cheerfully. “Alright, see you next time.”

After touring two exhibition halls and taking in a overwhelming amount of renowned artists’ works, Lu Jia returned to the first-floor lobby to rest for a bit.

“Little Lu, what a coincidence.”

A familiar sultry voice came from behind, standing out clearly amid the murmur of conversations.

Lu Jia turned around to see Sheng Shubai raising an eyebrow at her. “Here by yourself?”

“Professor Sheng.”

Lu Jia nodded. “I came with Advisor Rong and Senior Sister.”

Sheng Shubai turned to leave, but then heard the girl continue, “They left a few minutes ago, though. What bad timing; we just missed you.”

That really is quite the coincidence.

Her toes pivoted back, and Sheng Shubai sat down beside her with a smile. “So it’s just you left?”

Lu Jia nodded. “Planning to browse a bit more.”

“How about together?”

Sheng Shubai invited her. “We can keep each other company; it won’t be boring.”

Over the years, Sheng Shubai had always kept her distance from printmaking. Today, an elder from another family whom she knew well had insisted she attend, and it was hard to refuse.

Having missed the opening ceremony, she couldn’t just wander around and slip away. She’d gritted her teeth and stayed for half an hour, during which people kept coming over to chat.

They addressed her as Professor Sheng and inquired after the recent situations of her family members.

Sheng Shubai kept a smiling face and found all sorts of excuses to leave, only to run into the next one after a few steps.

Now, with Lu Jia in tow, she finally had a handy excuse for some peace.

“Yeah, this is a young acquaintance of mine.”

She affectionately draped an arm over Lu Jia’s shoulder and said to the newcomer, “The kid’s here on summer break, flew in specially to see the exhibition. I’ll take her around first; we can catch up next time.”

Lu Jia thought, Is this script from some standard training?

Unfortunately, Rong Yi had already paraded her around once earlier, and now several people mentioned Rong Yi in succession. Sheng Shubai endured it for a while before asking quietly, “How many people did your mentor actually meet just now?”

Lu Jia thought for a few seconds, counting on her fingers back and forth. “Not many, maybe a dozen or so.”

Sheng Shubai: …

This little shield isn’t as effective as I’d hoped.

Fortunately, by the time they reached the final exhibition hall—which featured classic works from past years—the visitors were quietly appreciating the pieces, with only those in pairs exchanging occasional words.

Sheng Shubai let out a long breath of relief.

She really didn’t want to hear any more small talk, nor did she care about those family members’ recent works.

As they wandered deeper with Lu Jia, Sheng Shubai grew distracted and simply pulled out her phone to scroll.

The girl in front of her suddenly stopped, and Sheng Shubai nearly bumped into her.

Assuming Lu Jia was just admiring something closely, she didn’t pay much mind. But after two minutes with no movement, Sheng Shubai finally looked up leisurely. “Which one are you looking at that’s so…”

Her words caught in her throat as her gaze fell on the painting, then shifted instinctively to the description plaque beside it.

It was a gold award winner from an international competition years ago—the first domestic work to win in that event. It had caused a stir in the printmaking world back then, propelling a young, unknown student to rising star status.

Her eyes skimmed over the name on the plaque, and Sheng Shubai’s expression cooled. “You like this one?”

She looked straight at Lu Jia, trying to gauge the girl’s true feelings from her reaction.

“I don’t like it.” Lu Jia shook her head honestly.

Even though the artist was now a recognized senior in the printmaking world, with every work carrying an intimidating reputation, Lu Jia still disliked what she disliked.

Unaware of the shift from gloom to brightness on Sheng Shubai’s face.

Lu Jia pointed across at the left side of the image, her brows slightly furrowed. “That part… it feels a bit out of place.”

She’d only seen photos before and had always felt something off. Now, seeing the original, after studying it closely for a while, she finally pinpointed the awkward spot.

The work was a realistic black-and-white woodblock print. The main subject was terraced fields in overlapping layers, with a distant river, small bridge, and houses; the sky beside the mountains was dotted with a setting sun, attempting to capture the effect of diffused sunset glow.

Many praised that sunset as a clever touch, but Lu Jia found it jarring.

The knife strokes in that detail clearly differed from the rest of the print.

It might not be obvious on paper, but the original wooden printing block was displayed below the print. After some thought, Lu Jia found it odd.

It was like a work that should have been a perfect 100, suddenly marred by an 80-point element that stood out glaringly. She couldn’t understand what had earned it the gold award.

Lu Jia spoke bluntly, unconcerned if others overheard.

Sheng Shubai eyed her quietly for a few seconds, then suddenly broke into a smile, her bright features blooming with delight. “Well said.”

She leaned close to Lu Jia’s ear, her soft breath brushing down, voice lowered to a near whisper.

“Of course, it won… by theft.”

This painting was clearly her little aunt’s work from before her death—everything except that ridiculous sunset.

—

It was nearly three in the morning.

Lu Jia rarely woke from her dreams in the middle of the night.

She had stayed at the exhibition until it closed at five in the afternoon. After parting with Sheng Shubai at noon, she had spent the afternoon pondering alone. In her dream, she was surrounded by prints and wood, with countless inspirations bubbling up.

Upon waking, Lu Jia sat up abruptly, barely managing to switch on a desk lamp.

She sketched a few strokes, but then the pen tip hesitated.

The dream’s atmosphere and scenes lingered faintly in her mind, yet she couldn’t capture them on paper.

The tip felt like it was smudging against a veil of thin mist; no matter how she drew, it felt wrong.

After sitting blankly for a while, her sleepiness had long dissipated.

Lu Jia simply grabbed a bottle of mineral water from the fridge to drink, hoping to clear her head and sort out her thoughts.

The night was deeply silent; even faint sounds were amplified manifold, ringing out with exceptional clarity.

Lu Jia heard a noise from outside the door.

But it wasn’t her door—it was… in the hallway, across from her?

That was Sheng Shubai’s place.

Could it be a midnight burglar?

Even though the woman had said the complex had excellent security, who would be out visiting at nearly three-thirty in the morning?

Remembering the peephole was blocked by a fu character, Lu Jia’s hand paused on the way to the kitchen knife.

She’d hardly ever held the thing; she was more likely to hurt herself. So she switched direction and firmly gripped the rolling pin on the rack instead.

Lu Jia weighed it; the heft felt just right.

With wood in hand, she felt more secure.

She strode to the entryway, counted to two silently, then pressed down the door handle. The rolling pin poked out first, held squarely in front of her.

And then she locked eyes directly with Sheng Shubai.

“…Professor Sheng?”

Lu Jia blurted out in surprise.

The woman had one hand on her door handle, barely propping herself up, while the other fumbled at the keypad lock. Distracted by the noise behind her, she entered the wrong code, and it beeped twice sharply—unlock failed.

Her steps wavered, her eyes bright with intoxication; clearly, she’d drunk a lot.

Lu Jia saw her squint at her hand, then realized she was still holding the rolling pin and instinctively hid it behind her back.

“Are you… alright?”

Seeing Sheng Shubai like this, Lu Jia wondered how she’d staggered through the elevator ride up. Once inside, she’d probably crash on the sofa for the night.

But the woman beckoned her over.

As soon as her hand left the door handle, Sheng Shubai swayed, on the verge of collapsing.

Lu Jia quickly tossed the rolling pin aside; the wooden cylinder clattered on the tiles and rolled away.

She swiftly supported Sheng Shubai, letting the woman, reeking of alcohol, lean into her arms. Mixed with a seductive, rich perfume, it was oddly pleasant.

Already a few centimeters taller than her, and now in high heels, she towered even more over Lu Jia in slippers. She slumped softly against her, burying her face in Lu Jia’s shoulder.

“Professor Sheng, how about I…” help you inside?

Lu Jia had only gotten halfway when a sudden pain stabbed her shoulder. She hissed softly, her fingers tightening around the woman’s waist.

But Sheng Shubai didn’t let go after biting; her teeth pressed against the skin, grinding with a continuous, fine sting.

Mumbled words fell into Lu Jia’s ear, laced with a venting petulance.

“Printmaking students… aren’t good people.”