Linchang was exceptionally quiet.
Outside the window, the treetops rustled occasionally in the cool breeze, but it was winter, so there were no bird calls yet.
The wood carving had already been sanded and polished, and Lu Jia was applying tung oil to it.
Her long hair was simply tied up with a clip, and a few stray strands fell loose when she lowered her head.
Sheng Shubai propped her chin and watched her, casually tucking the girl’s stray hair behind her ear.
“Thank you, Miss Sheng.”
Lu Jia looked up, her brows and eyes soft.
“Tsk.”
Hearing the form of address, Sheng Shubai raised an eyebrow. “Why are you still calling me ‘Miss Sheng’? Shouldn’t you change it to something else?”
She had grown so used to it.
Sheng Shubai had only just realized that from their meeting at noon until now, Lu Jia’s way of addressing her hadn’t changed.
Or rather, ever since the confession a while back, even though they had entered the ambiguous phase, the girl had still only called her “Miss Sheng.”
Of course, she called Lu Jia by her full name too.
Lu Jia set the wood carving back on the table and thought for a moment. “What do you want me to call you?”
“Sister. I like that one.”
Sheng Shubai was straightforward.
She still remembered that night in the car when Lu Jia had called her “sister” for the first time on her own initiative—her expression had been so obedient.
Lu Jia smiled. “Then should Sister change how she addresses me?”
“. . . You’re right.”
Sheng Shubai was indeed stumped by her words and pondered. “How about . . . baby?”
They both fell silent at the same time, exchanged a glance, and burst out laughing together.
That style of pet name really didn’t suit them. It was fine for flirting sometimes, but it felt awkward for everyday use.
Lu Jia cleared her throat lightly. “It’s a bit too weird.”
“Little sister? Baby? Wife? . . .”
Sheng Shubai listed them one by one, pretending to count seriously on her fingers, though her eyes sparkled with deliberate mischief to tease the girl.
Lu Jia’s ears burned all the way to her cheeks—half from shyness, half from embarrassment.
She couldn’t take it anymore and leaned over to cover the woman’s mouth. “How about we just stick to names?”
A couple of those pet names she actually liked, but Lu Jia had only ever heard Sheng Shubai use them in bed. If outsiders heard them, she was afraid she’d want to crawl into a hole.
Sheng Shubai rubbed the girl’s heated earlobe and leaned in to kiss her lips. “Little blockhead.”
–
As evening approached, they returned to the Lu Family home in the city.
Lu Manwan looked at the small wood carving Sheng Shubai was holding and smiled. “Ever since you got back, I’ve seen Little Jia fiddling with that piece of wood whenever she had free time. So it was for you—that explains why she put so much effort into it. It’s more meticulous than her previous ones.”
“Previous ones?”
Sheng Shubai’s interest was piqued, and she asked.
Lu Manwan nodded. “This kid has loved tinkering with wood carvings and woodcuts since she was little. We have plenty of that stuff at home. She even said she wanted to live with wood in the future and have wood be her wife.”
Hearing the last part, Sheng Shubai’s gaze slid over, and she subtly glanced at Lu Jia. “Hm?”
Lu Jia touched her nose and cleared her throat lightly. “Those were just silly things I said as a kid. Can’t take them seriously.”
She didn’t want wood as a wife anymore.
Now she had a girlfriend, who was prettier than wood, softer than wood, and better in every way.
Hearing the girl quietly comfort herself like that by pulling at her sleeve, Sheng Shubai teased her. “If you really ended up with a piece of wood as your wife, wouldn’t it be Big Log and Little Log living together?”
But there was no such if—now, the one who had wood as a wife was herself.
Lu Jia laughed along with her. “No wood for me. I want you.”
Dinner was ordered at a nearby restaurant, and Old Madam Lu had also simmered her specialty soup separately.
After the meal, Lu Jia led Sheng Shubai into a room.
It was a small study specially cleared out, with all four walls hung with Lu Jia’s works from over the years. Against one wall stood a wide display cabinet with four shelves, filled with all sorts of wood carvings.
These little trinkets were basically all carved by Lu Jia before she came of age.
They were arranged by age, growing more childish toward the bottom. The few on the far left inside were hardly even carvings—just rectangular blocks of wood slightly rounded and etched with simple dot eyes and bracket smiles.
But Old Madam Lu and her mother had carefully preserved them all, polishing, sanding, and oiling them before moving them from Linchang.
Sheng Shubai took them out one by one and examined them in her hands.
The carvings on the third shelf already showed considerable skill. Lu Jia explained that this row was from when she was fifteen or sixteen.
She was truly born to hold a carving knife.
Sheng Shubai praised her, and her gaze fell on a pair of round-headed wooden dolls.
They were one of the few pieces that had been painted.
The two chubby, silly dolls were integrated with their tray—one on the left holding the moon, the other on the right holding the stars. Clearly a pair.
Seeing the woman’s thoughtful gaze, Lu Jia explained that she had carved them when she was immature.
That year at sixteen, Lu Jia had spent the entire summer at Linchang. Bored on Qixi Festival with no crush at the time, she had lounged in the courtyard under the moonlight, roughly carving the outlines, then gradually refining them later.
The wooden dolls were both girls. Sheng Shubai asked curiously, “Did you already know back then that you liked women?”
Lu Jia nodded, then remembered something and smiled. “Mom and Grandma always thought they were two good friends and figured I planned to give them as a birthday gift to someone.”
Art school had all sorts of orientations.
Even though Lu Jia hadn’t thought about romance back then, constantly surrounded by it, she had wondered what kind of person she’d like in the future.
Though she couldn’t picture it clearly, she knew it would definitely be a girl, and she accepted the fact quite naturally.
From sixteen to twenty-two, Lu Jia had never been moved by anyone during that time, so she hadn’t told her family.
After hearing the story, Sheng Shubai pointed at the two wooden dolls succinctly. “I want them.”
“Should I carve you a new pair?”
Lu Jia thought for a moment. “I can make them look like us and put them over at your place later.”
Sheng Shubai wagged her fingertip. “Then I want both—the old ones and the new ones. One pair for the apartment, one pair here with you.”
After all, these dolls carried a bit of Lu Jia’s girlish heart.
Past and present, they had to be hers.
Seeing the girl obediently agree, Sheng Shubai added, “Remember to carve me pretty.”
Lu Jia promised, “Of course.”
In just a few words, she had already sketched the rough form in her mind.
This time, she didn’t plan to carve just two figures separately but a whole scene: the moment at the Sheng Family Exhibition Hall when the woman pointed at the printmaking plate and explained it to her.
She shared the inspiration with Sheng Shubai, and seeing her nod, Lu Jia went out to fetch a tablet and started drafting.
“So eager?”
Sheng Shubai ruffled her hair and sat down at the desk in the small study too.
That afternoon, while accompanying Lu Jia to Linchang and receiving the wood carving planter, the rest of the time had been spent watching Lu Jia work on her printmaking.
It was the piece to be submitted for the Qinghui Cup soon. The line draft alone had gone through over twenty versions, and only in the past few days had she started cutting to get the feel.
Seeing the girl rub her eyes, Sheng Shubai simply took the stylus from her hand and pulled the tablet over. “I’ll draw it. You’ve been busy all afternoon already.”
After all, it was a decorative piece for their home—she should participate too.
The study light was a bright, warm eye-protecting color.
It fell just right, haloing the woman’s hair with soft light.
Lu Jia watched her quietly for several seconds, then leaned over, half her body against Sheng Shubai, her voice very soft. “Sister.”
Sheng Shubai, who had switched to a finer brush, hummed lightly. “What is it?”
“I suddenly realized I quite like this feeling.”
Just the two of them in a bright, quiet room, each doing their own thing—or her watching Sheng Shubai work.
Lu Jia had previously found it hard to imagine what it would be like for two people in love to spend time together.
Now that it was her turn to be in a relationship, she discovered it wasn’t much different from before—still that comfortable, relaxed interaction—but a inexplicable pleasure bubbled up from her heart.
It was like . . . knowing the other person truly belonged to her made her heart settle.
No more tossing and turning in doubt, no more wondering if the woman really liked her. She already was hers.
Sheng Shubai laughed at her words, twirled the stylus, and used the end to lift Lu Jia’s chin.
“What feeling?”
She deliberately leaned close to the girl’s face, extremely near.
Just before their breaths mingled, Lu Jia tried to explain. “It’s just . . . mmph—”
By the time Lu Manwan knocked to bring fruit, Sheng Shubai finally released her.
Her lips bore clear marks of kissing, and the corners of her eyes were tinged with a flush.
Watching Sheng Shubai calmly pull her up to answer the door, Lu Jia pursed her lips and tugged at her sleeve after all. “I . . . I’ll get it.”
Having done such things inside, it felt wrong to let Sheng Shubai open the door.
Though it was this woman who had initiated the kiss, she had actively hugged her waist too, letting Sheng Shubai press her against the chair back.
Lu Manwan glanced over and knew exactly what they had been up to.
She didn’t show it on her face, though, and smiled. “Little Bai, the guest room is ready. We have new toiletries at home. Stay here these few days like it’s your own home.”
Sheng Shubai nodded. “Okay, thank you, Aunt. Sorry for the trouble.”
A whole plate of freshly washed cherries—Lu Jia’s favorite. Sheng Shubai bit one and fed her most of them. In return, she pulled the girl onto her lap by the waist and leaned in for a kiss.
They fooled around until past nine at night when her phone buzzed.
Lu Jia then saw Lu Manwan had sent another message, reminding them to wash up early—she and Grandma were heading to their rooms first.
“We really should wash up. We have to head to Linchang early tomorrow.”
Lu Jia packed up the tablet, set it on the table to charge, and hooked her pinky with Sheng Shubai’s as they left the study.
Unlike the woman’s multi-layered skincare and body lotions, Lu Jia showered faster and waited in the living room ahead of time.
Seeing that Sheng Shubai wasn’t wearing a nightgown tonight but a long-sleeved top she hadn’t seen before, covering her completely, Lu Jia said, “It would have been great if you hadn’t brought pajamas—you’d have to wear mine.”
She had rushed back from C City back then without packing much.
These days at home, she had been wearing those questionable nighties from before, which Sheng Shubai had teased her about over video.
Sheng Shubai nodded. “Call it foresight.”
Glared at lightly by the girl, she tapped the corner of her own lips and lowered her voice. “One last kiss before bed?”
Kissing in the living room—Sheng Shubai had thought she was already quite improper.
But after the kiss, Lu Jia followed her into the guest room.
She asked Lu Jia, “. . . Aren’t you going back to your room to sleep?”
