After a One-Night Stand with a Seductive Bad Woman - Chapter 28

Sheng Shubai was acting strangely tonight, far more passionate than usual.

 

Lu Jia was forced to endure her kiss, her thoughts scattering beyond capture. It wasn’t until Sheng Shubai finally released her, leaving her nearly limp in the woman’s arms, that Lu Jia managed to catch her breath.

 

“Sister Sheng, are you… going to take the lead tonight?” she asked softly, her expression gentle and questioning.

 

Sheng Shubai didn’t reply. Instead, the hand that had been cradling the back of Lu Jia’s head slid down her neck, gently tracing the curve to her jawline. Her fingers pressed lightly against Lu Jia’s slightly swollen lips, which had been thoroughly kissed.

 

With a lingering glance at Lu Jia, Sheng Shubai took the girl’s wrist and, in this guest bedroom that wasn’t her own, assumed control. She leaned back against the headboard with casual grace.

 

A flick of her fingers was all it took for Lu Jia to understand her meaning, preparing to lean in.

 

But before she could steady herself, Sheng Shubai tugged her wrist, pulling Lu Jia forward. Lu Jia stumbled, half her body collapsing onto Sheng Shubai, her lips pressing directly against the neckline of the woman’s nightgown, tracing the curve of the cleavage.

 

Her lips brushed against a faint coolness—the pendant Sheng Shubai often wore.

 

Sometimes, when they were in a hurry, Sheng Shubai didn’t have time to remove her pendant. As she leaned over, the cool metal would brush against certain sensitive areas of Lu Jia’s chest, sending shivers through her.

 

But this was the first time Lu Jia had initiated a kiss.

 

Perhaps the wine Fang Zhao had poured was particularly potent. Lu Jia’s thoughts stirred slightly as she gently bit the edge of the pendant, her eyes lifting to meet the woman leaning against the headboard.

 

Her upward gaze was beautifully submissive, her lips parted slightly, still flushed from Fang Zhao’s kisses.

 

A hint of amusement played at the corners of Sheng Shubai’s lips. “Switching to chest-level tonight?” she teased, her tone suggestive.

 

Lu Jia’s ears flushed. She knew exactly what Sheng Shubai meant.

 

With the pendant still between her teeth, she couldn’t speak, nor did she know how to respond.

 

“Mmm…”

 

Meeting the woman’s increasingly meaningful gaze, Lu Jia vaguely sensed what was coming. But before she could speak, something new was forced between her teeth.

 

It was a slender, pale fingertip, then another, and another.

 

She instinctively opened her lips to accommodate them, easily letting the pendant fall back against her chest. The slight dampness it left behind was brushed away, but neither woman noticed.

 

Her lips and tongue enveloped his finger, and naturally, the wetness followed.

 

Usually, Lu Jia faced away, her back pressed against Sheng Shubai’s chest. But tonight, she faced Sheng Shubai almost the entire time, coaxed and teased to keep her eyes open. He leaned down to let her suck on the pendant, then on his wetness.

 

She took the initiative once, flipping him over, but exhausted herself so completely that she lay limp in his arms, utterly drained.

 

She felt a few strands of his hair brush against her arm, tickling her faintly. She shifted slightly, raising her hand to brush them away.

 

But as she lifted her arm, Sheng Shubai gripped her wrist.

 

Seeing he didn’t intend to continue, Lu Jia sighed in relief. She’d thought she was taking the lead tonight, but somehow she’d ended up being flipped around even more than usual.

 

The next moment, she felt a cool, delicate touch on her fingertip.

 

Sheng Shubai was touching her.

 

More precisely, he was touching the spot where she’d been cut by the engraving knife.

 

Lu Jia had a tendency to scar easily, and as a printmaking student, even minor cuts took a long time to heal completely.

 

The cut from a while ago had long since scabbed over and healed, leaving only a faint, pale scar that was barely visible unless you looked closely.

 

And now, Sheng Shubai was examining it closely.

 

Just as Fang Zhao finished tidying up, she switched the lights back on, illuminating the room with a soft glow. Lu Jia’s hand was held up near Sheng Shubai’s gaze, and Lu Jia tilted her head to look as well.

 

Following the woman’s elegant jawline, Lu Jia met her gaze. The peach blossom eyes, usually curved in a gentle smile, now held an unreadable expression.

 

The soft touch of Sheng Shubai’s fingertips and rounded nails against her skin made Lu Jia feel strangely uneasy.

 

Seeing that the woman showed no sign of releasing her hand, Lu Jia pursed her lips.

 

Before she could speak, a new sensation diverted her attention.

 

The delicate touch of fingertips was replaced by a familiar softness—the lips Lu Jia had kissed countless times.

 

Sheng Shubai was kissing her wound.

 

The realization sent a tremor through Lu Jia’s fingertips. The warmth felt like a burning brand, and she instinctively wanted to pull away.

 

But the woman’s grip was firm, and she couldn’t break free.

 

Lu Jia lowered her gaze, her heart pounding against her ribs with a muffled thud. She even considered shifting her body to create some distance between them.

 

She… she was afraid Sheng Shubai could feel her racing pulse.

 

Thankfully, it seemed she couldn’t.

 

Lu Jia had no idea how long the woman’s lips lingered against her fingertip.

 

A fleeting moment? Or perhaps ten seconds? She couldn’t remember.

 

When Lu Jia regained her senses, Sheng Shubai had already released her wrist and calmly smoothed her hair back into place.

 

It was then that Lu Jia realized… she had been about to brush Sheng Shubai’s hair.

 

Meaning.

 

She didn’t ask.

 

The intimate details of their interactions were no different from their usual hand-holding and affectionate embraces.

 

Perhaps Sheng Shubai was simply drunk and felt…

 

Lu Jia lowered her gaze, remaining silent.

 

Sheng Shubai often praised her hands, turning them over and over in her own, saying how much she loved them. This was… perfectly normal. Nothing to worry about.

 

The room’s lights dimmed again.

 

Lu Jia shifted slightly, wanting to give Sheng Shubai some space.

 

After sleeping together so many times, she was well-acquainted with the woman’s habits.

 

When drunk, Sheng Shubai would sometimes complain about feeling hot, loosening her embrace instead of clinging tighter and saying the temperature was just right.

 

Lu Jia wasn’t sure how drunk Sheng Shubai was tonight.

 

Truthfully, after being so busy for so long, most of her intoxication should have worn off by now.

 

But Lu Jia simply wanted to keep some distance.

 

According to something she’d read in some book—she couldn’t remember which one—a person’s heart had a limited number of beats in a lifetime.

 

Tonight was the first time her heart had raced so fast, and for so long.

 

So long that her rationality had twisted into a labyrinth of back-and-forth thoughts, yet her heart still pounded relentlessly, nearly vibrating her eardrums.

 

Even after her weekly gym workouts, her heart rate usually returned to normal quickly.

 

This was… deeply unsettling.

 

I need to stay away from Sheng Shubai, Lu Jia thought.

 

I still plan to live to a hundred.

 

Lu Jia’s plan to keep her distance from women failed spectacularly.

 

To be precise, last night, she had barely shifted an inch before Sheng Shubai’s arm wrapped around her waist, pulling her back against her will.

 

Sheng Shubai had reclaimed her with an undeniable force, drawing her even closer.

 

Lu Jia couldn’t recall when she had fallen asleep.

 

Perhaps it was Sheng Shubai’s intoxicating scent. As their noses brushed, subtle, lingering fragrances had woven through the air, drawing her thoughts into a shared dreamscape.

 

Otherwise… how else could she have continued dreaming of intimate encounters with Sheng Shubai, even after their earlier encounter, as if still unsatisfied?

 

Lu Jia rarely dreamed. Even when someone appeared in her dreams, they usually served as atmospheric inspiration, their features remaining indistinct.

 

This was the first time she had not only clearly recognized someone in her dream but also remembered every vivid detail upon waking, each moment as clear as day.

 

“Awake? Why do you look so dazed?”

 

Sheng Shubai had apparently woken earlier and was leaning against the headboard, scrolling through her phone. The screen was dimmed in night mode, emitting no harsh glare.

 

Lu Jia shook her head, offering no reply.

 

Sheng Shubai assumed Lu Jia was still groggy from sleep and didn’t think much of it. She got out of bed too. “What do you want for breakfast? I’ll tell the housekeeper to make it.”

 

“Anything is fine.”

 

Lu Jia gently pressed the tip of her thumb against the wound on Sheng Shubai’s palm. It stung slightly, but not painfully.

 

After washing up, Lu Jia went downstairs and found Sheng Shubai already seated at the dining table.

 

The table was set with soup dumplings and noodle soup, both famous breakfast dishes from Z City. There were only two servings: one in front of Sheng Shubai, untouched, and the other across from her.

 

Lu Jia sat down opposite Sheng Shubai. “Where’s President Sheng?”

 

They hadn’t woken up particularly late; it was just past eight o’clock.

 

“He already ate. He went back up to his study on the third floor. He seems to have some kind of online meeting.”

 

Sheng Shubai picked up a soup dumpling and bit into it. She didn’t like dipping them in vinegar, so she pushed the vinegar dish toward Lu Jia.

 

The soup dumplings looked exquisite. Their thin, translucent skins revealed the glistening broth and savory meat filling beneath. Each bite burst with fresh, fragrant sweetness.

 

The noodle soup was made with a rich pork bone broth, topped with a sunny-side-up fried egg nestled atop a mound of thin noodles. As Lu Jia stirred the noodles, she discovered another fried egg submerged in the savory broth.

 

Lu Jia glanced up at Sheng Shubai.

 

Besides Sheng Shubai, no one else here knew she liked fried eggs. She wondered when Sheng Shubai had mentioned it to the housekeeper.

 

A smile played across the woman’s face as she winked at Lu Jia.

 

“Thank you, Sister Sheng,” Lu Jia said, gripping the rim of her bowl. The porcelain felt cool against her fingers, but the lower part of the bowl was warm. Her fingertips trembled slightly, pressing against the bowl before releasing.

 

She didn’t look up again, focusing on the steamed soup dumplings and noodles in front of her. She ate quietly until she heard footsteps descending the stairs.

 

“Sis, can I borrow the driver later to take Lu Jia to the Old Mansion?” Sheng Shubai called out.

 

“Sure,” Sheng Shujun replied.

 

Lu Jia looked up as well, meeting Sheng Shujun’s gaze. “Good morning, President Sheng,” she said politely.

 

“Good morning.” Sheng Shujun’s gaze lingered briefly on Lu Jia’s neck before she nodded slightly and subtly shifted her attention. “Calling me ‘President Sheng’ is too formal. From now on, just call me Sister Shujun, like Shubai does.”

 

Lu Jia was surprised.

 

She usually addressed Sheng Shubai as “Sister Sheng” and hadn’t yet reached the level of familiarity where she could use her given name.

 

The conversation had already reached this point, so she said softly, “Sister Shujun.”

 

Sheng Shujun briefly asked about their plans for the day and, upon learning they would be at the Sheng Family Exhibition Hall all day, sent her sister the contact information for another driver before turning to return to her study.

 

“Why isn’t Liu driving today?” Sheng Shubai asked, her voice teasing.

 

Sheng Shujun paused.

 

She knows perfectly well why.

 

Liu Zhao was her personal secretary, and the family naturally had their own dedicated drivers.

 

Sheng Shujun glanced down at Lu Jia by the dining table, then shifted her gaze to her sister’s teasing expression. “Assistant Liu has other matters to attend to,” she said evenly.

 

Sheng Shubai opened her mouth to say more, but when she caught the subtle warning in the woman’s eyes, she wisely fell silent.

 

After breakfast, Lu Jia and Sheng Shubai went upstairs to pack.

 

Lu Jia had little to pack. She leaned against the edge of her desk and opened a folder Sheng Shujun had sent her that morning.

 

Sheng Shujun’s staff worked with remarkable efficiency. In just one night, they had identified several female Printmaking Major students whose styles resembled Sheng Ling’s. Lu Jia began reviewing their detailed profiles one by one.

 

After just eliminating two candidates, a soft knock sounded on the open door.

 

Sheng Shubai looked up and saw Lu Jia standing there, wearing a long-sleeved shirt buttoned all the way up, her hand pressed against the side of her neck.

 

As if she’s trying to hide something obvious.

 

Sheng Shubai couldn’t help but chuckle softly. Meeting Lu Jia’s troubled gaze, she feigned innocence. “What’s wrong?”

 

“Sister Sheng,” Lu Jia mumbled, “did you see it this morning? You didn’t… say anything.”

 

Lu Jia had just gone to the bathroom to tidy up her skincare products when she glanced up and noticed two glaringly obvious hickeys on the side of her neck, fresh and crimson red.

 

She’d been too preoccupied with her morning routine to notice them earlier.

 

Sheng Shubai walked to the door, her eyes twinkling with amusement. “I thought you’d noticed and just didn’t care.”

 

How could I not care? Lu Jia wanted to retort, but the words caught in her throat.

 

They usually maintained a careful balance, rarely leaving marks on each other. Even when passion flared, they chose discreet spots—the chest or inner thighs—easily concealed by clothing.

 

But last night, during certain moments, Sheng Shubai had been particularly fervent, her lips and teeth leaving a deep imprint on Lu Jia’s neck. Yet Lu Jia had been equally absorbed in her own actions, unable to spare a thought for whether marks might linger.

 

To her surprise, the marks were indeed visible, brazenly exposed in plain sight, even to the nanny and Sheng Shujun.

 

Lu Jia’s thoughts froze. Hesitantly, she asked, “Then President Sheng…?”

 

“Didn’t we talk about this last night?” Sheng Shubai raised an eyebrow. “She knows.”

 

Lu Jia’s confusion deepened. “She knows about us—?”

 

The woman nodded calmly. “Yes, she knows about our… relationship.”

 

The last two words were drawn out, spoken softly with a lingering emphasis.

 

The implication hung in the air, light and seductive, even more alluring than the way Sheng Shubai had coaxed her to call her “Sister” the night before.

 

It finally dawned on Lu Jia why Sheng Shujun had suddenly insisted she change her form of address that morning.

 

She must have seen the marks and understood exactly what had transpired the previous night.

 

As Lu Jia voiced her hesitation, Sheng Shubai’s eyes flickered with a mischievous glint.

 

“Speaking of which,” she suggested, “why don’t you call me ‘Sister Shubai’ too?”

 

Her peach blossom eyes curved into a beautiful smile as she leaned closer, gently brushing aside Lu Jia’s hand covering her neck. She examined the depth of color in the two marks with evident satisfaction.

 

“I’d really like to hear it,” she purred, her eyes narrowing slightly.

 

Woody only ever called her “Sister” in bed.

 

Now that they were so intimately familiar, asking for the title in private hardly seemed unreasonable.