Sheng Shubai had just arrived at the exhibition venue.
She heard a notification sound and looked down at her phone, nearly stumbling.
She rubbed her brow and replied matter-of-factly, “Not bad, but room for improvement.”
Afraid her words might be too harsh and dent the kid’s confidence.
After a pause, Sheng Shubai added, “Mainly, you need more practice with kissing. That bite was too hard. No teeth tonight when you kiss.”
It had only been one night, but a clear bite mark had already appeared on her lip.
Earlier, when she met up with an old friend, she caught that knowing, half-smiling look, and Sheng Shubai inwardly cursed the sharp-toothed little rascal.
It was clearly both their first kiss—how had she managed not to bite back?
“Iron tree blooming, eh, Professor Sheng?”
Her friend took the Americano she had brought along the way and couldn’t resist teasing.
Sheng Shubai glanced at the lush green-leaved flowers in the square, pretending not to hear, and forcibly changed the subject. “Yeah, late spring already, and your city’s landscaping is still so beautiful.”
Two more vibrations.
“I’ll study hard. We’ll improve together.”
“[handshake][handshake][handshake]”
What did that mean?
Sheng Shubai was first stunned by the three handshake emojis—they felt so corny—then the “improve together” struck her as implying her own kissing skills weren’t that great either.
She closed her eyes briefly and let out a deep breath.
Between “passive-aggressive sarcasm” and “out-of-touch polite old-person speak,” Sheng Shubai figured the latter was more likely.
Thinking back to Lu Jia’s behavior from last night until now, she tapped the top right corner and opened the friend info edit screen.
Her fingertip paused, then she changed Lu Jia’s note to: Little Stick-in-the-Mud.
–
Lu Jia wasn’t tired at all and hurried straight back to school.
Ever since experiencing it last night, she deeply agreed with her mentor’s words.
Art truly came from life.
New inspiration had struck right at the start last night. Lu Jia had wanted to grab her tablet midway to jot down a few notes, but Sheng Shubai wouldn’t let her. The woman held her with skillful strength—she couldn’t break free no matter what.
Sheng Shubai had declared righteously that capturing inspiration had to be done in one go.
Lu Jia thought it made perfect sense.
She did end up hugging her back to the desk. Sheng Shubai handed her the stylus and embraced her from behind, kissing the top of her head.
“Got more inspiration now?”
Her elbow could prop up the table, but her vision felt fogged, unable to pick out specific lines amid the intricate sketch.
Every time Lu Jia tried to sneak in a stroke during a gap, it seemed the person behind her had some telepathic sync—the pen tip’s movement stuttered and twisted.
In the end… well, she naturally didn’t achieve the result she wanted.
But circling a few arcs worth revising helped her recall those flashes of insight—that was already good enough.
Lu Jia pulled out the drafts she had discussed with her mentor earlier, printed them all out, and compared them side by side. Her focus shifted from the woman’s expression and pose in the drawing to adding details elsewhere.
She deliberately adjusted the position of the thin blanket in the sketch, covering a section of curve.
Exposing the half-hidden curve of her calf and slender ankle, she added more wrinkles to the bedsheet and skirt hem.
When refining the expression, Lu Jia unconsciously recalled her own face in the mirror last night.
And the woman’s lip-biting calls during the two later times she took the initiative.
The fresh experience was still vivid in her memory.
Noticing her breathing grow unsteady, Lu Jia steadied her mind.
This wasn’t the time to think about that. With tonight’s session ahead, she needed to revise the sketch first, then discuss with her mentor in the afternoon.
If there were still parts worth refining, she could use tonight’s opportunity to reference them again.
Thinking about borrowing Sheng Shubai as a model again made Lu Jia feel even more apologetic.
She spent the entire afternoon buried in supplementary materials from her friend after discussing with her mentor, studying hard.
Hoping to enrich her theoretical knowledge before meeting tonight.
At nearly eight in the evening, Lu Jia arrived at the hotel on time and messaged Sheng Shubai:
“Miss Sheng, I’ve just arrived downstairs. Is it convenient to come up now?”
Lu Jia wasn’t sure if Sheng Shubai was showering, but she had brought her own pajamas and toiletries tonight.
Last night, she had borrowed one of Sheng Shubai’s nightgowns—the fabric was so scant that her chest and legs had felt cold while sleeping.
After waiting two minutes, Sheng Shubai replied that she had an unavoidable business dinner to make an appearance at—it would be about an hour before she returned—and told her to head up first.
Lu Jia agreed.
After a thorough shower, she still had nearly half an hour left.
She simply pulled out her tablet and continued reviewing the reference materials her mentor had sent that afternoon.
It was a printmaking piece from many years ago that had won a silver award—not a formal competition, not well-known, and the artist’s name was just a single letter “L,” with no contact info.
But the atmosphere matched perfectly with the seductive woman Lu Jia wanted to draw—it was a valuable reference.
She searched various keywords online and barely found a few other works by the artist. But they were so old that the photos were unclear; zoomed in too much, and the lines blurred on screen.
Absorbed in the tablet, wearing earphones, Lu Jia only noticed Sheng Shubai when she approached.
Startled by her nearness, Lu Jia’s fingertip instinctively tapped back to the screen.
“What are you looking at… a drawing?”
Her gaze fell on the tablet in the girl’s hands; the enlarged image shrank to original size. Sheng Shubai paused, her casual question halting for a beat.
She was very familiar with this piece.
Composing herself, Sheng Shubai asked, “You’re studying printmaking?”
Last night, Lu Jia had shown her graduation project prints, but she had only glanced and hadn’t dwelled on the girl’s major.
Seeing this now, she realized Lu Jia was in this field.
Lu Jia nodded, curious. “Does Miss Sheng know about printmaking too?”
Most laypeople knew more about watercolor or oil painting; recognizing this as printmaking at a glance suggested some involvement.
Sheng Shubai took a few seconds to reply, her tone emotionless. “Just heard of it.”
Before Lu Jia could respond, the woman looked away and set her bag in the opposite corner of the table. “I’ll go wash up first. You do your thing.”
Lu Jia watched Sheng Shubai’s retreating back, words on the tip of her tongue.
When the woman emerged from the shower, she gathered her slightly damp ends. Her curly long hair cascaded over her shoulders, contrasting her expanse of pale chest skin.
She looked at Lu Jia’s pajamas, her expression indescribable. “You’re wearing that for pajamas?”
She hadn’t noticed the girl’s outfit when she first returned.
Now, seeing the dozens of white-with-pink cartoon sheep all over, Sheng Shubai fell silent—counting just two made her feel sleepy.
“I specially picked it from my closet. It was the most suitable one.”
Seeing Sheng Shubai’s tone back to normal, that fleeting low mood seemingly passed, Lu Jia didn’t ask and followed her lead.
She had carefully chosen it before coming.
Compared to her usual styles, this one was from home for New Year—barely the tallest dwarf.
Sheng Shubai didn’t buy it.
But when Lu Jia actually showed her the purchase record from the same store—pure-color long-sleeve long-pants sets with fine dots.
High collar up to the chin, even on the model it screamed sexless, ascetic; she had bought four colors in succession.
“They’re really comfortable. In the dorm, you don’t need to fuss.”
Lu Jia hesitated two seconds and swallowed the follow-up: “Otherwise, next time I’ll buy different pajamas.”
She knew Sheng Shubai was just here on business.
And her graduation sketch would be finalized soon—no more need to see each other in pajamas.
“Or just go without?”
Compared to the flock of cartoon sheep, Sheng Shubai would rather see other expanses of white—at least they were pretty and soft to touch.
Lu Jia clutched her buttons. “I’ll get cold.”
From last night’s experience, even one round took so long. With AC on, her navel exposed to the air still made her worry about catching a chill.
For afternoon naps, even in pajamas, she always tugged a corner of the blanket over her belly.
Sheng Shubai rubbed her brow. “But if you wear that, I’ll feel like I’m with an underage kid. It’ll bother me.”
“You promised this morning—tonight, I take the lead the whole time, right?”
That line worked; for promise-keeping Lu Jia, it hit home.
After some negotiation, Lu Jia borrowed one of the woman’s shirts, fastening two buttons around her waist, leaving the rest open.
Sheng Shubai rarely wore shirts, and the few she bought were loose and oversized. Lu Jia was only a few centimeters shorter; the skin below peeked half-hidden at the hem.
Not in the bathroom this time.
The blanket was laid in front of the full-length mirror, convenient for Lu Jia to observe the poses needed for her sketch.
Kneeling on the soft shag blanket, warm overhead light poured down, plus the bright halo from the mirror’s edges.
Leaning against the woman for support, she looked into the mirror.
Modeling for herself—even the second time—still felt novel.
Sheng Shubai was an excellent instructor.
Guiding her hand-by-hand on poses to match the sketch’s intended effect, useful for reference when drawing.
While noting to observe her own expressions more, Lu Jia recalled a few confusions from revising the sketch that day and shared them. Sheng Shubai pondered briefly, then nodded toward the mirror, indicating she turn sideways.
Gradually understanding the sketch’s errors, Lu Jia felt genuine admiration—Miss Sheng was truly impressive.
She tilted her head to praise Sheng Shubai, her cheek brushing the woman’s hair ends. Freshly washed, they were still damp, leaving watery marks on the light brown blanket.
The light strip was soft, diffusing in her vision.
Not just Sheng Shubai’s slender, beautiful long hands, but the light falling on her wrists and forearms—warm tones like flowing water.
Everywhere like warm jade, so stunning Lu Jia couldn’t look away.
She stared intently, so later when drawing beautiful women, she’d have a real reference in mind.
By the time she noted the references she wanted, it was late, time to rest. Lu Jia instinctively tugged the blanket corner over her navel, afraid of chilling, but Sheng Shubai held her back.
“Mmph…”
Her words caught midway as the woman leaned down to kiss her earlobe.
Then came a soft, brushing whisper.
“Covering it blocks the detail references. But I have a way—no need to worry about the chill.”
