After a One-Night Stand with a Seductive Bad Woman - Chapter 29

Lu Jia naturally didn’t call her “Sister.”

Meeting Sheng Shubai’s amused gaze, she looked away without responding.

This woman was deliberately teasing me just now.

At least… I’ll consider calling her that after the hickeys fade.

Fortunately, Sheng Shubai showed restraint. Their plans for the next few days centered around the Sheng Yan Exhibition Hall, avoiding contact with outsiders. If the marks didn’t disappear quickly, it wouldn’t matter.

By the time they returned to C City, the marks should be gone, preventing Director Rong from seeing them.

In that case, granting Sheng Shubai’s wish to hear me call her “Sister” might not be so bad, Lu Jia mused.

But the woman didn’t press the issue as she had before. She simply chuckled, turned back to the table, picked up her bag, and smoothly changed the subject without lingering: “All packed? Let’s go.”

Lu Jia lowered her head, gripped the handle of her suitcase, and unconsciously tightened her grip. The wheels slipped slightly on the tiled floor, but she steadied the suitcase with practiced ease.

It seemed the woman hadn’t really wanted an answer, likely just teasing her in passing. Otherwise, why wouldn’t she have asked again?

Lu Jia didn’t respond, remaining silent until they were in the car, where the woman chatted animatedly with the driver in the front seat.

She lowered her gaze and opened the tablet on her lap.

During her previous visit, Lu Jia had admired nearly all the printmaking pieces in the exhibition hall, but only with fleeting, superficial glances. She hadn’t lingered for more than ten minutes on any single work.

Having used her spare time to organize the photos and videos by category, she had already planned which pieces she would study in detail over the next few days.

After doing her homework—researching the backgrounds and details of the works she intended to appreciate today—she planned to review her notes once more, so she could also ask Sheng Shubai for insights.

But as soon as she tapped to open the document, a hand covered the screen.

The skin was pale and the knuckles distinct. Resting on the screen, illuminated by the backlighting, the hand appeared even more slender and beautiful.

Lu Jia involuntarily found herself momentarily mesmerized.

Shifting her gaze, she finally turned to look at the woman beside her. “Miss Sheng?”

Just a moment ago, Lu Jia had been chatting amiably with the driver. Why had Sheng Shubai suddenly blocked her screen?

“Careful with your eyes. Didn’t you learn your lesson last night?” Sheng Shubai glanced at her.

This morning, their close proximity allowed her to clearly see the bloodshot veins in Lu Jia’s eyes.

She imagined the girl, after finishing her evening routine, had stayed up waiting for her to knock, then spent the night poring over research on her tablet.

She stayed up late with me and didn’t get enough rest.

No wonder she’s Rong Yi’s student. Her dedication rivals that woman’s from years ago.

“We still have a while until we reach the Old Mansion. Close your eyes and rest. Otherwise, you’ll have to go back to my place to rest this afternoon.”

This tactic worked perfectly on Lu Jia.

She immediately turned off her screen. “Okay, I won’t look anymore.”

As she closed her eyes, her brows inevitably furrowed slightly.

Lu Jia had just leaned back in her seat, barely beginning to relax, when a feather-light touch brushed across her forehead, gentler than the early autumn breeze.

A satisfied chuckle reached her ear. “Good girl, Little Sister Lu.”

Lu Jia spent four days at the Sheng Yan Exhibition Hall.

During that time, apart from an afternoon when Sheng Shujun called Sheng Shubai away, the two women remained inseparable.

Lu Jia often spent hours studying a single artwork, while Sheng Shubai patiently leaned back on a nearby soft sofa, tablet in hand. Whenever Lu Jia had questions, she answered them immediately.

The exhibition hall included a printmaking workshop.

After viewing the artworks each day, Lu Jia couldn’t resist trying her hand at the craft, experimenting with carving techniques on the printing blocks.

Sheng Shubai watched from the side, arms crossed, showing no interest in trying it herself. Her gaze remained fixed on Lu Jia, occasionally glancing at the surface of the printing block before the girl, her expression calm.

Only when Lu Jia struggled to understand a particular technique, even after careful study, did Sheng Shubai lower her gaze and gently grasp the girl’s fingertips.

It was a gesture similar to teaching a child how to hold a pen. Leaning in from behind, she loosely encircled Lu Jia in her arms, covering her right hand with her own.

Although their fingers were roughly the same length, Lu Jia’s smaller frame and finer bones made her hand appear noticeably smaller than Sheng Shubai’s.

Holding the carving knife this way made it difficult to control.

Sheng Shubai didn’t apply any force. Instead, she helped Lu Jia find the right angle for the blade, then lightly rested her hand on the back of Lu Jia’s hand, letting her decide when to cut and how much pressure to use.

The initial sketch had been hastily completed during a lunch break on the first day.

Over the next few days, Lu Jia devoted considerable time and effort to the project. She poured all her newly acquired insights and techniques into this printmaking piece, even discarding one version along the way. The final result far exceeded her expectations.

Her skills had improved dramatically. In just a few days, she had progressed faster than others might in weeks or even months.

Sheng Shubai watched with growing interest, already determined to persuade Lu Jia to pursue a doctoral degree under one of the senior scholars at the Sheng Yan Exhibition Hall.

Though Lu Jia had no connections to the hall, Sheng Shubai knew that with a few years of focused study, she would undoubtedly shine brightly.

Such a promising talent couldn’t be allowed to slip through their fingers.

To inherit the legacy, Lu Jia wouldn’t need to keep looking over her shoulder, wondering when she’d be asked to return to printmaking.

“Miss Sheng, the ink transfer is complete,” Lu Jia announced.

Having long recognized the figure in the print, Sheng Shubai feigned ignorance. “The person you carved has a really graceful swimming form.”

Lu Jia’s eyes curved into crescents. “It’s you.”

Because of Zhan Yun’s swimming posture, the image only showed his back.

However, the details of the pool’s design and the trees in the background were unmistakably familiar. Sheng Shubai had even seen the original sketches, so there was no way she couldn’t guess who it was.

She nodded with a pleased smile. “Thank you. I’ll accept it.”

“I should be the one thanking you,” Lu Jia said earnestly. “Thank you for spending these past few days with me and teaching me so much. I… I don’t know how else to express my gratitude, so I’m giving you this print.”

She had specifically asked Sheng Shubai what she wanted, but the woman had insisted she didn’t want any expensive gifts, only something small. Lu Jia figured the only thing she could offer was her printmaking, and since Sheng Shubai said she wouldn’t mind receiving it, she finally started working on it.

Sheng Shubai glanced at her meaningfully. “Haven’t you already thanked me?”

Under the woman’s knowing gaze, Lu Jia recalled the intimate details of their past few nights—details that had truly gone too far. She couldn’t even bear to think about them anymore.

Her ears flushed slightly as she struggled to steer the conversation back on track. “This has nothing to do with… those things.”

They had signed a contract, after all. Doing those things was simply part of the agreement.

Even though things had gotten a bit… intense these past few times, it was all consensual.

Besides, they had both initiated things at different times, so Lu Jia didn’t see any reason for “gratitude.”

“Alright, if you still feel bad about it—”

Sheng Shubai tapped Lu Jia’s forehead with a familiar force, pulling her thoughts back to the present.

Lu Jia looked up to see the woman smiling. “Why don’t you just give me the woodblock print too?”

“Of course,” Lu Jia agreed without hesitation.

She had originally carved it as a portrait of Sheng Shubai. If the woman wanted it, she would gladly offer it with both hands.

Sheng Shubai, ever decisive, immediately made a phone call. After hanging up, Lu Jia asked, “Miss Sheng, are you having it shipped to C City?”

She had assumed Sheng Shubai would leave it at her residence in Z City.

“Mm-hmm.” Sheng Shubai nodded, then added as if remembering something, “Oh, it’s being shipped with your painting, Wind Beneath the Trees. It was originally scheduled to leave tomorrow, so it’ll arrive in C City the same day as us. Adding another piece at the last minute meant I had to call urgently.”

“What?” Lu Jia’s expression was one of utter bewilderment.

If she remembered correctly, that painting was a prized possession on the fourth floor of Sheng Shujun’s villa. How could it possibly be hers?

“My fault, I forgot to mention it.”

The woman’s eyes sparkled with warmth. “I noticed you admired it last time we met, so I asked my sister for it. Consider it a welcome gift.”

The die was cast.

Since Sheng Shubai had already secured the gift for her, refusing it now would seem ungrateful.

Lu Jia murmured, “Thank you.”

“You’re not thinking about how to repay my sister later, are you?”

Sheng Shubai noticed Lu Jia’s downcast gaze and thoughtful expression. By now, he understood her personality well—not perfectly, but at least seventy or eighty percent.

He recalled a sketch he’d glimpsed while helping Lu Jia with her drafts earlier. It depicted a woman in traditional Chinese attire, her features and demeanor strikingly similar to Sheng Shujun’s.

The woman narrowed her eyes. “What? Are you planning to make a print of her too, as a gift?”

Lu Jia’s eyes lit up, clearly intrigued by the suggestion. “But I should check first. I wonder if President Sheng would mind—”

“Absolutely not.”

Sheng Shubai cut her off.

When Lu Jia looked up, startled, he barely managed to suppress his inexplicable irritation.

“My sister… she doesn’t like being painted by others. Besides, she’s developing a connection with another woman right now. Sending her a portrait would be inappropriate.”

Lu Jia nodded in understanding. “I see.”

That was indeed unsuitable. She would have to think of another gift.

Before Lu Jia could come up with a suitable alternative, the woman before her tilted her chin, her peach-blossom eyes curving into a meaningful, beautiful arc.

“Don’t worry about her for now. I think the print you gave me, which clearly took so much effort, is truly precious.”

“It’s only proper to reciprocate. Tonight, I should return the favor.”

The word “return” was emphasized with a suggestive undertone.

Lu Jia gently bit the soft flesh of her inner lip, remaining silent but nodding in agreement.

For the past few nights, the woman had either bound or pinned her down, even blindfolding her before letting a whip fall. In the past, when they shared their post-coital feelings, Lu Jia had never felt particularly embarrassed; she had always been straightforward about her desires.

But after several such encounters, Lu Jia began to sense a growing inclination toward pain.

Despite her usually direct and uninhibited nature, an inexplicable emotion kept suppressing the words she wanted to voice.

She feared Sheng Shubai wouldn’t like her harboring such thoughts.

She feared… the woman would find her too strange.

Lacking private moments lately, Lu Jia had deliberately avoided delving into these thoughts.

If Sheng Shubai’s drunken bite had once brought a fleeting pleasure of new inspiration through pain, now Lu Jia’s reactions to such sensory stimulation were becoming increasingly pronounced—even craving more.

What was causing this?