Rong Yi’s gaze flicked faintly toward her.
Lu Jia hesitated, wanting to speak but holding back.
“Professor Rong, what a coincidence?”
Sheng Shubai hadn’t heard Lu Jia’s response. She had just pushed open the frosted door when she saw Rong Yi’s eyes glancing her way.
She hadn’t paid much attention to the sounds outside earlier, only knowing that Lu Jia was talking to someone.
Now caught red-handed by Rong Yi, she showed no embarrassment on her face, carrying herself with complete openness and righteousness.
Even though it was almost dark outside.
“Shouldn’t Professor Sheng explain why you’re here?”
Rong Yi asked in a stern tone.
Sheng Shubai gave a half-smile. “Lu Jia and I are close. I came to find her so we could go out to eat together. Is that not allowed?”
She didn’t bother giving Rong Yi more than a lazy glance. Instead, she turned straight toward the tea table, bent down, and retrieved the lipstick she’d wanted earlier.
The metallic cylindrical tube gleamed softly under the ceiling light as her fingertips gripped it.
Sheng Shubai didn’t return to the bathroom. She walked over to Lu Jia’s side—or rather, stopped in front of the full-length mirror by the entryway—and brought the lipstick close to her lips.
“You two chat. Don’t mind me.”
Her tone was light and detached, as if she were merely a bystander watching a fire from across the river.
Rong Yi: …
Lu Jia glanced back at Sheng Shubai, then at her mentor whose expression had clearly darkened. She quickly spoke up. “Teacher, I’ll review the materials carefully. If there’s nothing else, I won’t keep you any longer.”
Rong Yi glanced at her and moved her lips. “Mm.”
“Professor Rong, please wait a moment.”
Sheng Shubai snapped the lipstick cap shut with a crisp click that echoed sharply in the small entryway.
Rong Yi had just started to turn away when her movement froze halfway and twisted back, a faint sense of unease rising in her heart.
After all, what good words could this woman possibly say to her?
Sheng Shubai flashed an obviously polite smile.
“Since the opening ceremony isn’t until the day after tomorrow, and if there’s nothing tomorrow, can Professor Rong approve of Little Lu coming home with me for a visit?”
This time, she was kindly giving advance notice to Rong Yi, lest the woman later accuse her of taking her student off without permission.
She shot Lu Jia a reassuring look, then smiled warmly as she awaited Rong Yi’s response.
Seeing the woman in front of her smiling like a sly fox, Rong Yi furrowed her brows warily. “What are you up to?”
Going home? Lu Jia wasn’t part of the Sheng Family—what home was there to return to?
“Of course, to show her some paintings.”
Sheng Shubai added, “The private collection at home. I’ll give Lu Jia a little special treatment. Professor Rong doesn’t mind, right?”
Rong Yi let out a breath of relief.
She naturally knew about Sheng Shubai’s family background and had no reason to block Lu Jia from such an opportunity.
Compared to this large-scale printmaking exhibition in Z City, the Sheng Family—a lineage of printmaking connoisseurs passed down for generations—held private treasures far more precious.
If Sheng Shubai was willing to take her student to see them firsthand, she ought to express thanks instead.
She weighed it for a few seconds and fell silent. “Go early and come back early.”
“That’s hard to say.”
Sheng Shubai curved her lips into a meaningful smile. “What if we get absorbed in one of the pieces? It might end up taking several hours before we know it.”
Pushing her luck.
Rong Yi ignored her and softly instructed Lu Jia, “Be safe. Contact me if anything comes up.”
Lu Jia listened to their back-and-forth exchange, nodding repeatedly without finding an opening to interject.
After seeing Rong Yi off at the elevator, she returned, closed the door, and asked in confusion, “Professor Sheng, when did you say I was going home with you?”
“What, others beg to see it and can’t, and you’re not happy that I’m taking you voluntarily?”
Sheng Shubai tapped her forehead. “If you don’t want to go, forget it.”
“I’ll go!”
She was already used to the woman occasionally tapping her forehead with her fingertip—a light pressure laced with playful reproach.
Lu Jia tilted her head with the motion, then straightened it. “Then tomorrow morning, I’ll come find you.”
Sheng Shubai withdrew her hand. “No need. Let’s go now.”
“Aren’t we going tomorrow?”
But Sheng Shubai raised her brow slightly. “Didn’t we agree tonight that you’d give me a massage? Why not go straight to my place? That way, you can sleep in tomorrow.”
Lu Jia thought it made sense. She nodded while pulling out her phone. “Then I’ll tell Rong—hey?”
She had just taken out her phone when the woman snatched it away.
Sheng Shubai’s tone was exasperated, as if dealing with someone hopeless. “We’re going out to eat and ended up shopping too late. My place is closer, so we’ll just stay there. Got it?”
Lu Jia blinked, then nodded. “Okay.”
They hadn’t even gone out to eat yet—how could they know they’d shop too late?
But seeing Sheng Shubai’s tone and expression, she didn’t dare say she didn’t understand.
The hotel wasn’t far from the exhibition venue but was quite a distance from the city center.
By the time the car reached the bustling commercial district teeming with traffic, the bread Lu Jia had eaten earlier to tide herself over was mostly digested.
When the woman asked what she wanted to eat, she simply said, “Miss Sheng, this is my first time in Z City. Anything is fine.”
She knew Sheng Shubai was from Z City and naturally assumed the other woman was familiar with the local restaurants.
Sheng Shubai looked out the window, her expression calm.
In truth, she hadn’t been here in a long time.
In previous years, she’d only returned to the suburbs around this season, coming and going in haste—often turning back the same day.
All told, it had been nearly a decade since she’d set foot in this area.
“I’m not that familiar either.”
Sheng Shubai said softly. “I don’t know if the old shops are still open.”
The car circled past several malls and stopped at the entrance to a slightly less towering restaurant street.
At this hour, only pedestrians could proceed further inside; vehicles weren’t allowed.
She vaguely remembered seeing photos on friends’ social media in the past couple of years, but Sheng Shubai was only guessing whether that shop from back then was still there.
Z City’s restaurant street was famous. Right at the cusp between dinner and late-night snacks, the mobile stalls lined both sides of the not-so-wide road, making it feel crowded and lively.
“Be careful not to get separated.”
Sheng Shubai took Lu Jia’s hand, waiting for the girl to grip hers back.
The climate here was much more comfortable than in C City. The evening temperature had dropped, carrying a hint of coolness. Even amid the bustling, smoky streets, it didn’t feel stifling.
They strolled along, pausing now and then to eye the signs and addresses on both sides.
Halfway through, Sheng Shubai finally stopped and looked up at the somewhat unfamiliar sign: Ama Restaurant.
The location hadn’t changed much—perhaps shifted slightly inward—but the space was larger now, with a brighter sign and an obvious recent renovation.
“The food here is great. I used to come here with… my family when I was little. I wonder if it’s still the same owner.”
She turned to Lu Jia.
Lu Jia stepped ahead proactively. “We’ll know once we go in.”
The young woman at the cashier had noticed them earlier. Now, seeing them enter, she beamed. “Welcome!”
Sheng Shubai’s gaze lingered on her face as her voice softened. “Hello. Is the owner still Chen Ama?”
The girl’s smile sweetened further. “Chen Ama is my mom. She’s in the back kitchen teaching an apprentice right now. And you are?”
Sheng Shubai waved her hand, stopping the girl from heading to the back. “Just an old customer who ate here years ago. Haven’t been back to Z City in a long time. Just curious.”
She and Lu Jia settled at a table by the window and ordered a few signature dishes.
Sheng Shubai gazed outside, her tone nostalgic. “This place has been around for many years—from when I was very young until the end of high school. We’d come by now and then.”
“That girl at the cashier—we used to see her all the time too. The last time I came, she was doing homework by the register. Now she’s all grown up.”
In the blink of an eye, from eighteen to now, she was thirty-two.
The vicissitudes of life, seasons turning.
Sheng Shubai glanced at Lu Jia sitting across from her. The girl looked youthful and fresh.
Around the same age she had been back then.
The difference was that Lu Jia held a pure passion for printmaking, while she…
Never mind.
Sheng Shubai lowered her head and took a sip of the freshly poured tea.
The cup was only warm, but the tea scalded her tongue, making her pause and set it down.
The woman seemed unusually talkative tonight, though her mood fluctuated.
While waiting for the food, Lu Jia quietly listened as she recounted old stories—from her childhood up to high school graduation, mostly trivial details of life in Z City.
It was clear Sheng Shubai had deep feelings for the city; when speaking of these unfamiliar changes she’d seen tonight, her tone carried a touch of melancholy.
Whenever a topic trailed off or skipped something, Lu Jia pretended not to notice.
“Sorry, have I been talking too much?”
Once the food arrived, Sheng Shubai snapped back to the present, her tone apologetic. “You’ve had to listen to me ramble on like this.”
Lu Jia shook her head. “It’s fine. I’m happy to listen. Miss Sheng, you can talk as long as you want.”
She wasn’t sure if it was her imagination.
At a few points earlier, when the woman had lifted her teacup as if to mask something, a fleeting glint had appeared in her eyes—like the shimmer of tears.
Those parts had all involved family.
Lu Jia noticed the anomaly but wisely didn’t pry or offer comfort. With Sheng Shubai’s personality, she probably wouldn’t welcome consolation at a time like this.
The woman changed the subject, chatting about the printmaking exhibition.
“The opening ceremony the day after tomorrow isn’t all that interesting, but the artists for these pieces should be there too.”
Sheng Shubai pulled up photos on her phone and slid the screen toward her. “I just checked—they’re all in the same hall. If you’re interested, I’ll take you to see them and introduce you to the artists.”
Earlier in the car, Lu Jia had the materials from Rong Yi in her bag, and Sheng Shubai had glanced through them.
Seeing Lu Jia linger on a few pages for a while, she’d messaged an old family friend and gotten a reply just minutes ago.
Lu Jia’s gaze fell on the screen, her chopsticks pausing mid-air as she picked up food.
Through the restaurant’s soft yellow lighting and the faint white steam rising from the dishes, she spoke softly. “Miss Sheng.”
Sheng Shubai’s tone was even. “Hm?”
“Why are you so good to me?”
Lu Jia truly didn’t understand, so she asked directly.
From the woman offering to show her the private collection at home not long ago, to now actively introducing her to artists she admired.
Yet they were at most friends with benefits who got along well.
