Chapter 77 Part 1

Yue Bai spent her daytime hours and evening self-study sessions working on English exercises, memorizing vocabulary, and sending punctual check-in messages to Sang Wan.

The day before Labor Day, Yue Bai’s last shred of patience and hope for English finally ran out. She irritably tossed her book aside and slumped over her desk, her eyes filled with an unprecedented sense of bewilderment.

She could adapt quickly to competitions or trying out new art styles she’d never tackled before, but English was different—no matter what, she just couldn’t settle down to study it.

Every day, when Sang Wan asked about her progress, Yue Bai would reply, “Not bad. I memorized a few more words today.”

Well, she had memorized a few words today, but the ones from yesterday were already forgotten.

“Senior Sister, I feel like I can’t do this anymore.” Back at the Teachers’ Apartment, Yue Bai threw herself into Sang Wan’s arms, burying her head in the other’s chest, utterly listless. “English is so hard. Really, really hard.”

Sang Wan chuckled. “Is it really that tough?”

Yue Bai pulled a long face. “I’d rather paint for eight hours straight than spend one hour memorizing words.”

Sang Wan felt helpless. She gently pulled Yue Bai out of her embrace and studied her closely. Sure enough, she looked utterly dejected.

“How about Senior Sister tutors you?” Sang Wan suggested.

“Hm?” Yue Bai mumbled.

“I’ll help you with English?” Sang Wan asked again.

Yue Bai finally perked up a little. She eyed the woman in front of her suspiciously. “Senior Sister, did you pass CET-4 and CET-6?”

Sang Wan couldn’t help but laugh. She flicked Yue Bai’s forehead. “Are you doubting my skills?”

Yue Bai pursed her lips. She wasn’t questioning Sang Wan’s abilities per se, but the other woman was an art major. Though A University’s art programs had high cultural course requirements too, Yue Bai subconsciously assumed Sang Wan’s scores were about on par with her own.

She had completely overlooked the fact that Sang Wan had once tutored her in math before the Gaokao.

“I wouldn’t dare,” Yue Bai said, refusing to admit it.

Sang Wan gazed at her, guessing that she might not believe her. Unhurriedly, she said, “I passed CET-4 and CET-6 on my first try, no prep.”

Yue Bai’s eyes widened in surprise.

“My Gaokao English score was over 140,” Sang Wan continued.

Yue Bai was even more shocked.

“My total Gaokao score ranked in the top ten in Home City,” Sang Wan added calmly.

Yue Bai’s eyes went as round as saucers. Senior Sister’s scores were that good?

“Two points higher than Zhou Qingyan’s,” Sang Wan said, propping her chin on her hand with a teasing look at the woman who had frozen like a statue.

Zhou Qingyan was in A University’s Finance Department, one of the highest-admission-score majors.

“And last May 1st Holiday, I tutored you in math,” Sang Wan reminded her, sentence by sentence. “So, do you think I can tutor you in English?”

In that instant, Yue Bai remembered a flood of things. Last Labor Day, their first meeting at Wen Mo’s home in Home City—Zhou Qingyan had something come up last minute, so Wen Mo had asked Sang Wan to tutor her instead.

And right after freshman year started, Xu Nuo had mentioned that even though Sang Wan was an art major, her cultural course scores exceeded A University’s program admission lines.

How had she forgotten all that?

“Senior Sister.” Yue Bai’s eyes lit up. She threw her arms around Sang Wan. “Teach me how to study English, quick!”

Sang Wan leaned back. She nuzzled close to Yue Bai’s neck and gave it a gentle nip, ripples of amusement swirling in her eyes as she subtly crooked her finger.

“I’ll teach you, but it’ll cost a fee,” Sang Wan said with a soft laugh, hooking her pinky around Yue Bai’s left one. “Are you sure you want me to?”

“What kind of fee does Senior Sister want?” Yue Bai leaned in, looping her arms around Sang Wan’s neck.

“What do you think?” Sang Wan’s eyes took on a deeper, more heated glint. She smiled faintly and steadied Yue Bai’s waist. “Besides, my rates aren’t cheap.”

“At the very least, you’ll have to make it worth my while,” Sang Wan added, deliberately leading her on.

If Yue Bai still didn’t get it after dating this long, she’d have learned nothing. She lowered her gaze.

Sang Wan had already showered and was wearing the sleepwear Yue Bai had given her for Valentine’s Day—the exact same style as the one she’d torn before.

Black, austere, and irresistibly tempting.

“Senior Sister.” Yue Bai pressed closer, her fingertips tracing along the contours of Sang Wan’s face, sliding slowly downward to caress the subtle mole on her jaw.

Two buttons on the sleepshirt had come undone. A cool breeze slipped through the gap, mingling with Yue Bai’s warm fingertips.

“Go to the bedroom, Little Bai,” Sang Wan said, her voice husky.

“But I haven’t showered yet.” Yue Bai smiled faintly, deliberately pulling her hand back, her fair face the picture of innocence. “What now?”

Sang Wan huffed in dissatisfaction. Yue Bai showered fast—in a situation like this, three minutes would do it.

Sang Wan licked her lips, her dark eyes deepening as her throat bobbed. She turned her head away. “Wash after.”

Yue Bai’s fingers deliberately trailed over Sang Wan’s body, her tone laced with teasing intimacy. “Senior Sister doesn’t mind me being dirty?”

“Little Bai.” Sang Wan frowned, pinching the soft flesh at Yue Bai’s waist. She gave a half-smile, her eyes unabashedly revealing the desire and longing she’d been holding back. “Be good.”

“Then I’ll go wash my hands first.” Yue Bai climbed off Sang Wan and headed to the bathroom.

“Mm.”

When Yue Bai returned, she chuckled softly. She bent down and scooped Sang Wan up from the sofa in a princess carry.

In that moment, Yue Bai had a sense of it—Sang Wan was light. Nearly five-foot-eight, yet she lifted her effortlessly. Her palm brushed Sang Wan’s waist through her clothes, surprisingly firm.

Senior Sister has such a great figure. Yue Bai thought to herself.

One arm cradled under Sang Wan’s knees, the other supporting her back. Yue Bai strode quickly into the bedroom.

With a backward kick of her heel, Yue Bai shut the door.

The bedroom was pitch black, save for the faint moonlight filtering through the window.

Yue Bai tilted her chin up and gently laid Sang Wan on the bed. As Sang Wan tugged at her wrist in dissatisfaction, Yue Bai bent down and murmured soothingly, “Senior Sister, let me close the curtains first.”

The grip in Sang Wan’s hand loosened a bit.

Yue Bai went to the window. As she reached for the curtains, she noticed it was open. Her brows furrowed slightly. She glanced back at the woman on the bed, pressed her palm against the glass, and shut it.

Can’t have Senior Sister catching a chill later.

She drew the curtains closed.

Yue Bai had painted for five hours that afternoon. In the dead of night, she made up the remaining three.

…

The brush danced across the paper, tracing ripple after ripple. Colors converged, crafting a captivating scene. Yue Bai demonstrated her artistry again and again.

…

By the time Yue Bai finished showering, Sang Wan was already fast asleep.

…

She flexed her wrist and glanced at the time. It was past midnight.

Yue Bai pulled back the curtains and switched on the bedside lamp.

A soft glow illuminated the dark bedroom. Yue Bai leaned down and kissed the woman’s exhausted face. “Goodnight, Senior Sister.”

Sang Wan’s eyelids fluttered, but she didn’t reply.

The three-day May 1st Holiday began.

The alarm they’d set beforehand hadn’t been turned off. It rang once before Yue Bai, already awake, silenced it.

She instinctively glanced at Sang Wan. The woman in her arms showed no reaction.

Yue Bai breathed a sigh of relief. Senior Sister needed proper rest.

It wasn’t until after nine that Sang Wan stirred slightly. Yue Bai, who was playing on her phone, noticed and gently patted her back. “It’s still early. Sleep a bit more.”

“What time is it?” Sang Wan asked without opening her eyes, her voice terrifyingly hoarse.

“Not even half past nine.” Hearing that rasp, Yue Bai’s heart ached as she touched Sang Wan’s neck.

Sang Wan had resisted several times last night, but Yue Bai hadn’t held back, begging over and over, “Senior Sister, I’ll pay extra.”

Sang Wan hummed sleepily and rolled over, seeking an embrace. Then, as if realizing something was off in her haze, she rolled back, draping a pale arm across Yue Bai’s waist.

After two minutes, she pinched lightly. “Sore?”

Realizing Sang Wan was awake, Yue Bai curved her lips. “Does Senior Sister want to try?”

“Get lost,” Sang Wan said, stopping her.

“Which way?” Yue Bai teased.

Smack. Sang Wan lightly patted Yue Bai’s body. “Be good.”

“I’m already good!” Yue Bai protested.

“Very good,” Sang Wan indulged her.

It was past eleven by the time they finally dragged themselves out of bed, all lazy reluctance.

As the quilt slipped away, Sang Wan glanced down to see her body covered in dense red marks—even her neck bore a few.

Her teeth ached at the sight, and she blinked.

She had underestimated Yue Bai. The girl was a quick study.

They had a simple lunch, and then Sang Wan headed to the balcony to catch some sun.

Yue Bai, full of energy, hugged her phone and played a game. Sang Wan glanced over—it was some casual button-mashing game that tested reflexes.

Yue Bai cleared level after level with ease.

Sang Wan held a disposable water cup. “Nice hand speed.”

Yue Bai didn’t look up, blurting out on instinct, “Practiced on you, Senior Sister.”

“…” Sang Wan.

This girl’s skin was getting thicker by the day. A couple teases used to turn her bright red; now she even dared to joke about her.

The sunlight was warm, and the ground, dampened by last night’s light rain, had long since dried, showing no trace of moisture.

Sang Wan watched her play for a while before standing up.

“Senior Sister, where are you going?” Yue Bai caught the movement in her peripheral vision and asked casually.

“To shower.” Sang Wan paused briefly. Purple-red spots marred her pale neck, and her collarbone bore two neat rows of teeth marks.

“Finish this round and get out your English materials. I’ll tutor you after I shower,” Sang Wan said, turning her head as she headed to the bathroom.

Yue Bai mumbled an absent acknowledgment and kept gaming.

Sang Wan wasn’t sure if she’d even heard her.

Once Sang Wan had gone in, Yue Bai stretched lazily and went to the living room to fetch the English materials from her backpack.

Several thick volumes.

“They’ve crushed my fragile little frame,” Yue Bai said, hefting her backpack and gesturing along her body. “So heavy, so thick, so many words.”

Pulling a ghostly face full of resentment, Yue Bai reluctantly hugged a thick stack of English materials back out to the balcony.

She had set the folding table in the center of the balcony, and now she poured a cup of water and placed it at Sang Wan’s spot.

“Senior Sister.” When Sang Wan approached, Yue Bai called out in a light, cheerful voice, then shifted to a negotiating tone. “Can we study just one hour today?”

Sang Wan raised an eyebrow as she sat down. Her light blue shirt gleamed with a serene sheen in the sunlight, while a gentle breeze lifted strands of her freshly blow-dried hair, veiling her expression.

“Didn’t you pay so much last night? Shouldn’t we learn a bit more today?” Her slender fingers pinched a ballpoint pen, twirling it twice at her fingertips, as her free hand smoothed back the wind-tousled locks.

She beckoned with a wave, and Yue Bai obediently squatted down in front of her.

Wafts of warm fragrance drifted into Yue Bai’s nose. She leaned in closer, the familiar scent overwhelming her senses.

“Senior Sister, you smell so good,” Yue Bai murmured, her tongue peeking out just a little. “It’s not like body wash or shampoo.”

She and Sang Wan used the same products, but Yue Bai carried no such aroma.

Sang Wan tilted her head halfway, her fingers deftly spinning the pen. “Mm.”

She gave a faint acknowledgment but showed no intention of revealing the source of the scent.

Sang Wan extended her palm, and Yue Bai naturally rested her chin in it.

“What’s your English level?” Sang Wan asked.

“Gaokao English was over ninety. CET-4… four twenty-five.” Yue Bai’s voice was small.