Lady

Ju Hui put on the shoe covers she had just bought and headed towards the studio.

The entrance was just a few steps from the door. Her shoes weren't dirty, but this was, after all, her roommate's boyfriend's house.

Ju Hui didn't wander around; she had been on the phone with Yun Aonan since before entering the loft.

"Is this place really unused?" Ju Hui asked as soon as she entered, a gentle breeze brushing her face. "Why is it so cool? Did your senior run the air conditioner at a constant temperature for two or three months?"

Yun Aonan cleared his throat: "...It's normal. It's so hot during the summer vacation. We need to keep the temperature and humidity constant to prevent the artwork from cracking."

Ju Hui glanced around briefly. The studio was quite large, with plaster figures and tools of various sizes displayed on the left and right walls. In the center of the room, there was indeed an unfinished life-size figure with the clay half-dry under the plastic film.

Ju Hui could vaguely discern the top student's abilities, and she felt relieved, saying, "As long as you weren't kicked out, it's fine. It's much cooler here than the sculpture factory. Can I really borrow it?"

"Of course! If you had told me you were participating in social practice for that crappy space and cheap materials at the sculpture factory, I would have brought you here long ago! Is there anything you need—"

“If you need anything, ask Brother Jiaping first, then ask you—” Ju Hui interrupted, then smiled and said, “I only asked you because Bian Jiaping isn’t as good as you.”

Yun Aonan scoffed, knowing that Ju Hui was deliberately refusing to come because she was too proud to admit it. The next second, Yun Aonan received a work call. She told Ju Hui to feel free to use the studio, then hung up without a reply.

Ju Hui put away her phone and took a deep breath of the cool air from the air conditioner.

That summer was sweltering. The counselor announced that all first-year students in the sculpture department would have to complete their social practice during the summer vacation.

Ju Hui didn't go to the countryside to do cultural development work. With the resources of the sculpture studio, she could only take on some event orders at the sculpture factory, which used blowers as fans. While the other members of the team complained incessantly, Ju Hui never complained of being tired.

She needs a suitable sculpture workshop to create her portfolio, as she plans to apply for a bachelor's degree in sculpture at Khieu University in Norway next February. Although the sculpture factory is hot, it has the necessary equipment for her use.

But now...

Ju Hui called the sculpture factory owner.

Resign, giving up three academic credits.

The studio key was delivered to the school by Yun Aonan. Today was Ju Hui's first visit, and she was touring the large room that would be hers for the next two months.

The studio is located on the outskirts of the 798 Art District. It is a converted loft garage with a ceiling height of over six meters. The only small window is suspended on a three-meter-high platform, and most of the natural light comes from the glass wall behind her.

Behind the wall is a bright and tidy residential area, while inside the wall are messy cement boxes. This glass wall divides the loft into distinct areas.

Ju Hui felt a little embarrassed. She didn't want to, but she could indeed see the entire view of her senior's first floor just by turning around.

It was too quiet over there; there was a set of car keys on the shoe cabinet in the entryway.

Ju Hui tried her best not to look at it, focusing instead on the workbench as she tidied up the things she had brought back from the sculpture factory. Just as she was finishing, there was a sudden click, and two heavy objects rolled out of the book Ju Hui had picked up—two ceramic hair clips.

Yun Aonan's?

These hair clips are exquisite and adorable; she probably has ten pairs.

Ju Hui met Yun Aonan, a classmate, during her intensive training at the art studio. Since the smog in the north was severe, Yun Aonan never stayed in the studio dormitory. Every day, she would bring all the new equipment she needed for the day to the training, and she would give Yun Aonan any extras she had, such as art supplies and paper stools.

Ju Hui thought her greatest hobby was sharing, until she saw her buy two dozen Vinda toilet papers for 19.9 yuan in the bathroom.

Yun Aonan rented a hotel suite for the goods she had stockpiled online.

Without much thought, she picked up a hair clip and casually clipped back her bangs. After tidying up, she immediately started sketching and sculpting a small model, working until nearly dusk in the afternoon.

Sheng Qijing, who lives upstairs, woke up at this time, awakened by hunger and a new message notification.

Yun Aonan sent a voice message: [Have you returned to Ruobei? I want to discuss something with you...]

Sheng Qijing frowned. There were more and more messages on WeChat. He opened Yun Aonan's chat box, then casually exited it.

He stayed up all night last night setting up the exhibition, and this morning he bought a can of coffee at a convenience store and drove back to Ruobei from Shijiazhuang.

It was already 5 p.m. when he woke up. Sheng Qijing hadn't eaten for 24 hours, so he decided to cook a bowl of instant noodles.

As soon as he came downstairs, Sheng Qijing stopped on his own staircase.

He probably chose glass for the studio walls so that he could check the overall situation at any time and see if a girl would suddenly appear in the studio.

She had already peeled off the film, and Ju Hui sat down next to the body, using his side workbench, wearing his work clothes and hair clip, and sculpting small models with his clay.

Sheng Qijing stared for a while, then stepped down another step, exposing Ju Hui and himself completely to the other party.

Sheng Qijing recognized Ju Hui and was not surprised to see her there.

He often saw her at school; she was friends with his childhood friend, Yun Aonan.

He leaned against the wall, staring at Ju Hui without saying a word, suddenly wondering when she would realize someone was there...

Sheng Qijing stood there for more than ten minutes.

Ju Hui's head only shifted slightly to the left by five degrees before immediately returning to its original position.

She only looked at the general outline; how could she be so meticulous about sculpting someone else's work?

Ju Hui meticulously clipped her hair back, revealing her thin eyebrows and short, heart-shaped cheeks. Her almond-shaped eyes drooped at the corners, giving her an appearance that was both obedient and aggressive. If she had a scalpel, she could probably secretly compress and take away the body.

Sheng Qijing took a deep breath and finally decided to ignore her and go downstairs to eat first.

But on the other side, Ju Hui suddenly stretched, as if she was about to get up. Startled, he instantly retreated two or three steps, accidentally tripping on his heel.

"hiss--"

The impact was quite strong; my skin is scraped.

By the time he was ready to carefully descend the stairs, Ju Hui had already taken off her oversized work clothes, lowered her head, and left through the front door, locking it behind her. She didn't glance at him once throughout the entire ordeal.

They moved so fast it looked like they were fleeing in panic.

"Tsk."

Sheng Qijing regretted hiding.

He rushed upstairs to the window of the room. He watched as Ju Hui opened and closed the courtyard gate, took out her key, turned it twice to lock it, got into the extra black car parked by the gate, and drove away.

That's a Bentley.

Bentley Flying Spur, 2015 latest model.

Ju Hui arrived near the home of her tutor in Bian Jiaping's new car.

I don’t know if it’s just my imagination, but every time Bian Jiaping comes to drive her, he picks the best car, as if he’s mocking her for earning only 150 yuan an hour and not being able to afford the car even if she worked 10,000 hours.

Ju Hui hung her head, inwardly cursing him for being childish. As she opened the car door to leave, he called her back.

"That house looks nice, is it your boyfriend's?" Bian Jiaping asked, lighting a cigarette before Ju Hui left.

“He’s Yun Aonan’s boyfriend.” Ju Hui deliberately slapped her face twice with her hand, frowning. “You really want me to be in a relationship, that’s why you insisted on coming even though I told you not to.”

A dry breeze slipped in from outside the car. Bian Jiaping rolled up his shirt sleeve, which had slipped down. A thin layer of mist veiled his narrow face and high cheekbones, making him appear thin, aloof, and wild. Her phone call at noon had been too sudden; he was looking at a report and hadn't listened carefully.

"I'm checking to see if you've really started dating that penniless guy." Bian Jiaping held the cigarette in the opposite direction. "I don't ask for much. As long as the senior you like can afford that house, I'll agree."

"What's the use of your agreement? Don't make him a penniless pauper." Ju Hui gave him a disdainful look.

She shouldn't have told Bian Jiaping who she liked. He didn't put on a good face, just calmly hummed in agreement, and after a while, asked about the other person's family background.

Ju Hui replied, "I can't tell."

These words prompted Bian Jiaping to immediately reject the other person, without asking whether they were male or female, or what their name was. Having sponsored Ju Hui for over six years, Bian Jiaping had urged her to find love since she came of age, but the main condition was that someone could bring Ju Hui happiness, that is, someone who could provide her with financial support.

You can't tell, they just don't have money.

Ju Hui's resentment towards the rich reached its peak, and she stopped paying attention to him. Unbeknownst to her, after she left, Jia Ping smoked two more cigarettes by himself. When the smoke cleared, he marked that day as a memorial on his calendar.

The day the cycad blooms.

Bian Jiaping took off his silver-rimmed glasses, which he only wore for work, and threw them in front of him: "Stop doing these lousy jobs. I'll pay you if you don't have any. Hurry up and find a boyfriend who can take care of you."

After saying that, he left, leaving Ju Hui, who had been angered, behind.

Bian Jiaping really loves to control her, from grades to part-time jobs to dating.

In her first semester of freshman year, Ju Hui was just eighteen years old. Excited about earning her own money for materials, she took on many and varied part-time jobs, often skipping classes and neglecting her studies, resulting in a bottom-ranked GPA. After Bian Jiaping found out, he would drive to the school to catch her skipping classes whenever he had the chance, and he caught her every time. Ju Hui was forced to stop most of her work, and her GPA finally rose to 3.2.

Now Bian Jiaping only allows her to work as an IELTS tutor. Summer vacation has only been going on for a week, and Ju Hui has time to give up her social practice. She is itching to find students to help with her portfolio expenses. Ju Hui then receives a call from her counselor.

"Why did Ju Hui resign? Who bullied you? The students staying on campus now are doing social practice. You can't stay on campus if you don't go."

Several days had passed since he left the sculpture factory, but his counselor, Marvin, still found out, his deep voice laced with feigned ease.

"Besides, anonymous reporting will be implemented next semester for the announcement of student aid grants. If someone blames you for this, it will also cause problems."

"...Let me think about it some more, teacher."

Slap! Slap—

Ju Hui was hammering clay in her studio when her phone vibrated on the table, making Marvin's ears hurt: "Is that the sound you make when you're working with clay? At school or in a workshop?"

Ma Wen grasped something and continued, "Hey Ju Hui, if the teacher doesn't care about you and you don't go back to the sculpture factory, go work as a teaching assistant at some children's art camp. Teach the kids to draw and stuff, it's easy... When you write the application, include Yun Aonan's name."

The hammer stopped.

Ju Hui said, "No problem, teacher."

The disdain in his eyes was impossible to hide.

Ju Hui picked up a towel to wipe her hands, turned off the speakerphone, quickly finished the call, and hung up.

Losing all interest in sculpting, Ju Hui looked at her tiny model, which resembled a pile of dog poop, and then at the towering, life-sized human figures next to her. The difference between them was like heaven and earth.

Ju Hui got up and admired the wall of her senior's artwork one last time.

After a few days of getting used to the environment, Ju Hui forgot all about etiquette and went straight to touch the brow bones and columella of the statues, and even looked up at the second floor above her head.

On the other side of the glass wall, Ju Hui was stunned.

She took two or three steps back to make sure that what she saw was a colorful scene, and there was a whole row of flowers on the second floor.

They weren't real plant flowers, but rather colorful, large and small doll-like flowers made of various materials like yarn, ceramic, and copper wire. They stood in a row, smiling at her, as numerous as dust sprites in an attic.

Ju Hui turned her body completely around and touched the hair clips on both sides of her head, which were decorated with these flowers.

The next second, she caught a glimpse of something white moving on the first floor out of the corner of her eye. She was startled and immediately followed the movement with her eyes, her ponytail rustling against her work clothes.

Ju Hui finally met Sheng Qijing's gaze.

Sheng Qijing stood at the corner of the stairs, wearing a white T-shirt and white pajamas. The slanting sunlight streaming through the window painted him with a golden edge, his features gentle, and his high nose casting a small shadow. He looked at her, the light emanating a faint gray hue, as if everything was about to melt into a warm illusion.

He went down two more steps and stopped.

Sheng Qijing pointed behind her and said something, but the sound was too far away for Ju Hui to hear. Her gaze followed his arm; Sheng Qijing's muscle definition was the best she had ever seen.

It's almost six o'clock.

Sheng Qijing gestured to the clock behind her.

Ju Hui turned around. It was time for her to go to the mall to change her clothes, have a McDonald's 1+1, and then teach her students.

She packed up her tools and backpack, opened the studio door, and glanced one last time at the stairwell, where Sheng Qijing was still there.

She nodded to him, then left in silence, this time without locking the door.

Ju Hui walked a long way before opening Yun Aonan's WeChat.

The last conversation was five days ago.

Yun Aonan: [Who do you like? Sheng Qijing?]

Ju Hui: [Yes, and I really, really want to touch him.]

That day, Ju Hui walked in the middle of the path, oblivious to the lingering heat of the sun. Her heart was pounding. After much deliberation, she sent a message: "[Ao Nan, it seems Sheng Qijing has moved into your boyfriend's house.]"