Night had already fallen deep.
A little after nine, Lu Jia followed Sheng Shubai back to her place.
She had originally planned to return to her own apartment first to change clothes, but the woman gripped her wrist and easily coaxed her back with a single sentence.
“Don’t you want your reward anymore?”
Sheng Shubai leaned in close, her rich, fragrant scent immediately enveloping Lu Jia.
Lu Jia said nothing more and obediently followed Sheng Shubai into the house.
After changing shoes in the entryway, she subtly glanced at the pair of red-bottom high heels on the shoe cabinet, her emotions indescribable.
So… it wasn’t what she had thought.
Lu Jia hadn’t drunk any alcohol that night and wasn’t the least bit dizzy.
Yet she couldn’t understand why her thoughts wandered so illogically, linking Sheng Shubai’s mention of a “reward” when they left with those high heels.
What else could this reward be?
Lu Jia figured it must be that the alcohol from the night before hadn’t fully worn off, or she wouldn’t be overthinking like this without reaching any conclusion.
“Be good and wait for me.”
The woman’s fingertips covered her eyes along with the black satin, gently stroking along the edge.
Lu Jia trembled slightly and softly agreed.
She sat quietly on the sofa, listening as Sheng Shubai’s footsteps receded—toward the master bedroom, it seemed.
Three minutes and six seconds later, the bedroom door opened, followed by the crisp sound of high heels, striking right at her heart.
Her fingers at her sides clenched tightly, rubbing lightly against the fabric of her skirt.
She wanted to guess but didn’t dare.
The footsteps finally stopped in front of her, and someone lifted her chin, fingertips tracing its shape.
Lu Jia pressed her lips together and waited quietly for Sheng Shubai to speak first.
“Can you still find the blanket?”
Lu Jia hummed softly in affirmation.
With Sheng Shubai’s guidance, she stood up. Her vision was completely blocked, but the woman didn’t leave her unattended; instead, she carefully led her to the spot.
Moments later, Lu Jia’s knees sank into the soft blanket.
They had done this before, and Sheng Shubai had specially replaced the rug by the sofa with a thick one, worried that Lu Jia’s knees would hurt from kneeling too long.
“So tense?” The woman chuckled lowly.
Lu Jia kept her back rigid.
Perhaps because her eyes were covered, not knowing Sheng Shubai’s expression or movements at that moment made her feel unusually uneasy in this situation.
The next instant, a light pressure touched her shoulder—just a small patch of contact.
Her heart skipped a beat; she could already tell what it was from the even pressure flattening her skin.
“Lu Jia, you can take it off now.”
The tone carried a casual laugh, the kind that always stirred her emotions.
Her covered eyelashes fluttered, as did her fingertips.
Lu Jia reached up and untied the satin from behind her head. It slipped lightly away, landing perfectly on the woman’s raised calf before sliding down to her ankle and onto the blanket.
The woman in the wine-red gown sat gracefully on the sofa, her brand-new red-bottom high heels pressing against Lu Jia’s… shoulder.
The heel was a slender cylinder, pressing slightly into her flesh with a faint pressure that Lu Jia no longer had the mind to care about.
Casually trailing from her shoulder downward, it pressed against the soft spot at her chest, then her lower abdomen—every sensitive inch of Lu Jia’s body that the woman knew all too well, each press perfectly measured.
One pass back and forth, then returning to her chest.
“…Miss Sheng.”
Lu Jia’s voice trembled at the end, her waist nearly going soft.
Under Sheng Shubai’s amused gaze, she forced herself to kneel straighter.
Her eyes traced slowly up from the woman’s pale, slender ankle. The skirt hem had ridden up with the movement, revealing a smooth curve of calf.
Lu Jia reached out to remove the satin that had fallen earlier, but when her palm touched the ankle, she couldn’t resist changing her action.
She… couldn’t hold back and gripped Sheng Shubai’s ankle.
Slender and warm.
The woman let out a soft muffled hum, still arching her brow as she looked down with indulgent permission, allowing Lu Jia to gradually overstep, stroking inch by inch upward.
Lu Jia picked up the satin that had been used on her earlier. Still kneeling, she looked up at the woman before her.
She wanted to blindfold Sheng Shubai too.
Her murmured words had barely fallen when her forward lean was halted. The pressure on her shoulder shifted from heel to toe, heavier with pain now, but still perfectly controlled.
Sheng Shubai eyed the girl, her tone light as it floated to her ear, enunciating each word: “Who gave you the nerve?”
She never relinquished control to anyone.
Leisurely withdrawing, Sheng Shubai crooked her index finger under Lu Jia’s clearly reluctant gaze, beckoning her closer.
Lu Jia obediently shuffled forward on her knees.
Until the woman leaned down, lifting her chin, her soft red lips drawing extremely close.
“Like being stepped on?”
The words and breath fell almost between her lips and teeth.
Lu Jia murmured: “I like it.”
The earlier presses from Sheng Shubai had sent ripples of thrilling, shallow pain. More intense than the riding crop before… nearly making her unable to kneel.
Sheng Shubai deliberately pressed the spot on her shoulder again, fingertips adding a bit of force, her tone seductive: “Satisfy me, and we’ll continue.”
In the end, she indulged Lu Jia’s wish.
The high heel rested on the girl’s shoulder, slipping halfway off and dangling for a while.
Before being carried into the bathroom, Sheng Shubai leaned lazily, letting Lu Jia tidy her up.
Seeing the girl carefully set the shoes aside, she couldn’t help but chuckle softly.
Where was this tenderness when she was licking her earlier, leaving several kiss marks on the inside of her thigh? Now she was handling a pair of shoes with such care.
Could the shoes possibly be prettier than her?
Lu Jia looked up, her tone negotiating: “Miss Sheng…”
Sheng Shubai hummed idly: “What?”
“Later in the bedroom… could you keep them on?” Her voice dropped lower, testing the reaction.
What she wanted her to wear went without saying.
Sheng Shubai raised a brow: “Want another round?”
Usually, Lu Jia lay back and let her take charge, but tonight, for some reason—Lu Jia had used her hands earlier, yet she still had energy to take initiative.
Sheng Shubai smiled, lifting her hand to circle the girl’s shoulders, letting her pick her up.
Taking advantage of the motion, she leaned close to Lu Jia’s ear: “Wash me comfortably first.”
The bathroom filled with steamy mist, the overlapping figures indistinct in the fog.
Wrapped only in a bath towel, Sheng Shubai was carried back to the bedroom by Lu Jia.
That night, Lu Jia took the initiative to turn on the light.
With all the rocking motions, the high heels—which had only been loosely slipped on—soon clattered to the floor.
Sheng Shubai ignored it, holding Lu Jia’s hand to prevent withdrawal.
When the girl tried to pull away, she laughed in exasperation, her threat laced with lingering seduction: “Lu Jia, if you go pick them up now, you won’t get back on this bed later.”
As it turned out, they could continue without getting on the bed.
After being kicked off twice by Sheng Shubai, Lu Jia wisely stopped trying to climb on, pressing her knees against the bed’s edge for leverage.
Her hands didn’t slack, eventually smoothing down the beautiful fox who had bristled in arousal.
With a sated, lazy expression, the woman hummed and crooked her finger, finally allowing Lu Jia to lie back down.
Eyeing her reaction, Sheng Shubai’s fingertips rubbed over, knowing the girl was struggling too.
Skilled as ever, she pulled her into her arms, biting her ear and laughing lowly:
“Lu Jia, next time I wear these, will I see you this proactive again?”
Lu Jia’s waist softened, her fingertips gripping the shoulder a bit harder.
As she sank into the boundless night, she vaguely heard herself reply:
“Yes.”
–
The autumn wind grew chilly; another weekend arrived.
Lu Jia rarely skipped diving headfirst into her studio. Instead, she arrived early at the parking lot beside C University Faculty Apartments.
Today, she was going with Rong Yi to visit a senior—not just her, but Shen Zhiwei was tagging along too.
According to Rong Yi’s private message, Shen Zhiwei’s mentor had once received a favor from Professor Liang. Upon learning they were heading to the neighboring city, she insisted on coming along to deliver a gift on her teacher’s behalf.
Rong Yi had repeatedly reminded her in chat to keep her distance from Shen Zhiwei.
Lu Jia didn’t think much of it but nodded obediently in agreement.
She didn’t interact much with Shen Zhiwei usually.
It was mostly the other way around—Shen Zhiwei would observe Lu Jia’s schedule at the college studio and knock around mealtime, smiling as she asked if she wanted to grab food at the cafeteria.
Lu Jia had no intention of changing her habits for others. After a few refusals, Shen Zhiwei took the lack of rejection as tacit approval.
They walked side by side, usually maintaining a social distance of nearly half a meter.
They occasionally ran into Sheng Shubai, but Lu Jia would only nod and say “Professor Sheng” before passing by.
The cafeteria in the academic area was newly built this semester, and the food was decent.
During meals, Lu Jia wasn’t used to talking much with unfamiliar people, only responding briefly when Shen Zhiwei asked.
Sheng Shubai had told her not to force it, but Lu Jia didn’t want their relationship too distant either.
Keeping it at a not-too-close, not-too-distant ordinary friendship was just right.
Shen Zhiwei, however, had somehow learned—perhaps from those two graduate students in her cohort—that Lu Jia was just like this, not getting too close to anyone, her world filled only with printmaking.
Far from backing off, she grew even more persistent.
She always brought over precious material from Song Lan’s collection for “discussion” with Lu Jia, staying for one or two hours.
Lu Jia accepted the materials without refusal.
Though not as valuable as those she’d seen firsthand at the Sheng Family Exhibition Hall, they had the appeal of foreign works in different styles.
Over time, others who saw them together daily assumed they were close—even Rong Yi had worriedly reminded her privately.
Sheng Shubai never asked, not even mentioning it once.
Lu Jia wasn’t sure if it was complete trust in her boundaries or if Sheng Shuyun simply hadn’t told her sister how many times Shen Zhiwei had come by lately when Lu Jia reported their interactions.
Seeing the girl approach with her bag, Lu Jia snapped back and nodded politely: “Classmate Shen, good morning.”
Shen Zhiwei smiled brightly and offered a breakfast bag, holding a sizable gift box in her other hand: “I just asked Advisor Rong; she hasn’t eaten breakfast yet, so I grabbed a few on the way. Want some?”
She shook the yogurt in her hand, and Lu Jia replied warmly: “Thanks, I’ve eaten.”
Not long ago, she had gotten up from Sheng Shubai’s bed, even steaming breakfast in the kitchen and leaving a note reminding the woman to eat when she woke.
Chewing toast, Lu Jia had returned to her own unit across the hall, grabbing a bottle of yogurt from the fridge.
She hadn’t opened it yet; the bottle gleamed in the autumn morning light, cool condensation on her fingertips.
Lu Jia loved the original flavor of this yogurt brand. Last time she shopped for groceries with Sheng Shubai, she bought a whole case.
Shen Zhiwei withdrew her hand and waited with her for Rong Yi.
Three minutes later, Rong Yi rounded the corner into view.
Shen Zhiwei stowed the gift in the trunk, and Lu Jia opened the driver’s door. Foreign licenses weren’t valid domestically, so she was handling the entire round trip alone.
“Is Senior Sister not coming?”
Lu Jia turned to ask her mentor, who was resting with eyes closed in the back seat.
She wasn’t close with the other senior sisters and just called them “Senior Sister” in general—the one living with Rong Yi being Shi Mengxi.
From the moment they met, Lu Jia had noticed Rong Yi didn’t seem well today.
Her mentor usually wore only light makeup, thickening it only for formal occasions. Today’s was heavier than even that, as if to mask fatigue and appear more energetic, but it couldn’t hide the weariness in her expression.
Lu Jia didn’t wear makeup often, but after spending time with Sheng Shubai—who had dragged her to learn—she was proficient at concealing dark circles from lack of sleep and other marks.
Rong Yi’s expression remained flat, unlike her usual softening when mentioning Shi Mengxi.
“She said she doesn’t want to come.”
Her voice carried an uncharacteristic coldness.
