Lady

The air was momentarily still.

Pei Yao laughed and said of course not. Sheng Qijing pushed his suitcase forward, as if he hadn't heard her question, and saw Pei Yao off.

They were the only ones left in the room.

They exchanged a glance. After Pei Yao left, she became like a still pond again, as if she had lost all her strength knowing that she would be alone in a room with Sheng Qijing again.

Is she really that unhappy?

Before Sheng Qijing could react, Ju Hui turned and walked towards the studio. He called out to her, "Hey!"

"My name is Ju Hui."

"...Excuse me, Ju Hui, please wait a moment."

The tone was so fierce that he trembled from the shout.

Sheng Qijing brushed past her, walked to the refrigerator, took out a bottle of ice water, and waved it at her: "Don't you want this studio to be mine?"

Ju Hui felt awkward staying there and refused him, saying, "No need."

“It’s free, I bought it.” Sheng Qijing, who was taller than the refrigerator, tilted his head to indicate that it was inside. “If you need to get it yourself in the future, please help me out.”

There was plenty of water and various perishable fruits.

Ju Hui hesitated, then walked over, pulled out a chair and sat down. The bottle cap, emitting a chill, opened easily. Ju Hui ran her fingers lightly across the glass of ice water, and water droplets fell.

Ju Hui wasn't unhappy, but she felt inexplicably lost. Pei Yao's departure was too sudden; he left before she had a firm grasp on "The Painter."

"Why do I fall silent as soon as we get here?" Sheng Qijing sat down, resting his elbows on the table and propping his chin up as he looked at her hands and asked, "Didn't you say a few days ago that you wanted to do experiments? Why are you busy with exhibitions now?"

"Experiments are being conducted, and exhibitions are also being held."

Sheng Qijing, as an outsider, seemed dissatisfied with the answer. Ju Hui felt he was now like a teacher, with everyone around her suggesting she consult him, and even the studio might be his now; she lacked confidence.

Ju Hui continued, "Because being an assistant should be helpful for my experiments."

“No, it’s no help.” Sheng Qijing wiped away the water droplets. “I’ve dealt with the artist in ‘The Painter’ magazine before. He likes to withdraw from exhibitions but can guarantee a zero-breach record. He’s very good at finding loopholes in contracts, and his reasons are always different.”

Ju Hui remained silent; Hui Ling had already told her all this.

"Your next job will be dealing with contracts. You need to find out which terms satisfy Mr. Zhuang Hong and that the gallery's rights are protected. That will keep you busy. If you don't do it well, of course you won't do it well. You'll have to meet with him again after the exhibition because you need to find a way to make him, who hasn't breached the contract, pay for the gallery's losses."

Ju Hui's eyes remained dim, the air thick with cold, dampness. After a long pause, Sheng Qijing's tone softened: "So, give up on 'The Painter,' and finish your social practice..."

“Then I quit,” Ju Hui said resolutely. “I’m going to talk to Sister Huiling. This job sounds like it’s not worth the risk.”

The job of a curatorial assistant is well-paid and offers opportunities to learn. Why not use the time that Ju Hui is feeling lost to study ink brushwork?

But according to Sheng Qijing, if "The Painter" cannot be exhibited, it will bring her a lot of trouble, and she doesn't want to do something with low returns and high risks.

“You can give up on ‘The Painter’ and quietly wait for the charity exhibition to end.” Sheng Qijing choked, not having time to doubt whether she was acting impulsively. “If you’re going to do something, do something that will benefit you… You really want to sign with Mo Cun?”

"right."

Ju Hui wanted to go back and sculpt clay.

Sheng Qijing sat up straight and his voice softened: "Staying at Mochen isn't that good, and Mochen hasn't signed any second-year students yet."

Ju Hui nodded: "Then I can try to be the first one."

Sheng Qijing narrowed his eyes; only then did he realize how serious Ju Hui was.

The ink-wash pattern is like a walled city, its bricks shining brighter than anyone else's.

She didn't know how many artists squeezed in there, their arms folding the moment they stepped in, their bodies slowly hardening, unable to mold clay anymore, becoming a standard packaging box.

A beat late, Sheng Qijing laughed out loud: "You can't possibly do that experiment."

Ju Hui leaned back.

Sheng Qijing gently told her about all the difficulties she might encounter. He smiled gently, but casually commented on her project with an arrogant tone. This time, Sheng Qijing finally saw what Ju Hui looked like when she was angry. Her face began to turn red, deep in her neck from her collar.

—Three human figures of different sizes but the same height, and an enormous device—is it possible for someone like you, a sophomore who has barely touched a welding torch, to do this?

Ultimately, you're not pursuing perfection; you can't stand failure. Setting unattainable goals is the only way to prevent reality from defeating you.

—If you can't do it, you won't even shed a tear.

Sheng Qijing was internally telling her to stop, but he still said aloud that he wanted to hear her swear.

—And even if you actually manage to make it, would Mo Chen want you?

"Clang—la—"

Ju Hui stood up, pushing aside the sturdy wooden stool with a creak.

Sheng Qijing looked up: "Greybell won't let people leave halfway."

Hate.

Her face turned as red as a tomato. She turned around, went back to the studio, grabbed her bag, and left through the back door as if she had never been there.

The intense heat was scorching underfoot.

Ju Hui felt that Ruobei needed a heavy rain, preferably one that would flood his poorly drained studio and ruin all his works!

She took a deep breath, found someone's number on her phone, and dialed it.

The other party answered quickly: "What's up?"

“Bian… Brother Jiaping.” Ju Hui’s throat suddenly felt dry. “I want to borrow some money from you.”

Ju Hui asked Bian Jiaping for money, partly out of anger and partly because she genuinely needed it.

Reality couldn't match her ideals. Sheng Qijing rejected her work terribly. The mold making and experimentation were a considerable expense, and she was completely clueless about how to revise it. She needed money and guidance from a teacher.

So when Bian Jiaping asked her what she wanted the money for, she told him in detail that she planned to retake the Khio Sculpture undergraduate exam.

This is not a small number; on the contrary, it is terrifyingly large. Although studying abroad guidance costs money, it has far exceeded the budget, unlike what Ju Hui would say.

Bian Jiaping did not agree over the phone and suggested meeting in person to talk.

8 PM.

Bian Jiaping deliberately arranged this time and place at his parents' house on the North Second Ring Road, a place Ju Hui hadn't visited in almost two years.

"I heard you were coming, so I've been busy in the kitchen all day. You don't like spicy food, so it's not easy to cook your hometown dishes..." Bian's mother smiled. She hadn't seen Ju Hui for a long time, and at the dinner table, she asked about her health and her aunt, but didn't mention her studies.

She had heard Bian Jiaping say that Ju Hui's grades in her freshman year were average, and she guessed that Ju Hui was still upset about her failed attempt to study abroad, which she understood.

"Thank you, Auntie." Ju Hui took a bite of the steamed fish, her movements becoming much more ladylike, which pleased Bian's mother.

When writing her college application essays, Bian Jiaping asked her mother to help her find a famous teacher to write a recommendation letter. However, Ju Hui didn't even attend the interview. Ju Hui always felt apologetic to Bian's mother, feeling that she had embarrassed her.

When she came again this time, Bian's mother's attitude remained the same, and Ju Hui softened her sharp edge; it was Ju Hui who was being petty.

After dinner, Bian Jiaping took her back to school. Bian's mother said she hadn't seen her uncle yet and told her not to leave.

Ju Hui declined, promising to visit the elders again later. She sat in the passenger seat next to Bian Jiaping, and a faint, bitter smell wafted over.

Bian Jiaping is a heavy smoker, and even though he hasn't smoked, the car smells of smoke. Ju Hui took out perfume from the glove compartment, sprayed it on his face a few times first, and then sprayed it into the car.

"Tell me, what do you need so much money for?"

The night lights whistled past in the cold wind. Bian Jiaping emphasized the word "borrow," which Ju Hui cared about. She had an account book filled with the money he had sent over the years.

When Bian Jiaping had just graduated from university, he suddenly learned that his girlfriend Zeng Yue had been sponsoring a group of orphans. Over time, the money had accumulated into a huge sum of money, but at that time Zeng Yue had never met the girl.

Bian Jiaping asked Ju Hui to start keeping accounts and to tell them the specific amount of money each time a remittance was made.

Later, this became one of Bian Jiaping's most regrettable decisions. As a result, Ju Hui became increasingly sensitive to money, constantly thinking about repaying it, like an ungrateful little wolf ready to leave him at any time.

Ju Hui sat up straight, her seatbelt stretched out and tightened in front of her. "The school arranged social practice for me. I'm currently working as a curatorial assistant at the Mo Cun Gallery. I'm going to use the extra money I borrowed to 'bribe' an artist."

Bian Jiaping: "Bribery?"

Ju Hui nodded emphatically.

Bian Jiaping glanced at her.

Looks like it's time to steal that little ledger and throw it away.

"Just because that senior said a few words to you?"

After listening to Ju Hui's venting, Bian Jiaping also laughed at her, but it wasn't as harsh as Sheng Qijing's: "What he said is quite right. If you want to see 'The Painter,' I'll take you there tomorrow."

"That's different."

The lush light of the streetlights outside the window reflected on Ju Hui's face, making her look like a beautiful nineteen-year-old: "Anyway, I just want to make him admit defeat. What he can't handle, I can handle."

"Him? Who is he?" Bian Jiaping gripped the steering wheel, looking over. "Is your roommate's boyfriend so nosy?"

Ju Hui paused, then mumbled a vague "hmm."

Bian Jiaping laughed more tonight than ever before. He called her childish, and she said he had wrinkles around his eyes.

Forty minutes later, the car stopped near the school. Before she got out, Jia Ping said to her, "When we get to the dorm, send me the information of the person you want to bribe. I can handle it."

Ju Hui gave him a thumbs up, smiled, and turned to leave.

It's very late now, and to get to the school's main gate, you have to walk along a dark path under the trees.

Sometimes Bian Jiaping would politely park his car and drive her to a well-lit place, and other times he would be indifferent like a ride-hailing driver, turning around and leaving, just like tonight.

Whether to send a gift or not is entirely up to Bian Jiaping's mood.

Ju Hui couldn't simply define her relationship with Bian Jiaping as that of creditors and debtors, or family and friends. She was useless and dispensable to him, but he had been a part of most of the most memorable moments in her life.

She never dared to go against him since she was a child, and she never imagined that she would vent her emotions on him when she grew up. She thought that Bian Jiaping would not leave her because it would be troublesome.

She didn't even know how many times Ju Hui had thrown a tantrum at him before she became certain that Bian Jiaping would never leave.

So Ju Hui dared to refuse his melancholy calls after he was drunk, because she was sure he would call again and try to reminisce with her about his long-deceased girlfriend.

But she can answer when she's in the mood; he'll call eventually anyway.

What kind of relationship is this? Is it family?

Ju Hui, an orphan in her childhood, was unaware of this.

After that unpleasant day, Ju Hui didn't go to Loft for several days in a row, and her only destination in 798 was Mo Cun.

During the tour, she took the initiative to praise Sheng Qijing for her hard work at the gallery. She quickly contacted "The Painter" magazine, and they had a good chat. It seemed like they might actually be able to exhibit there.

Sheng Qijing: [The exhibition "The Painter" cannot be held.]

Sheng Qijing: [Tell Greybell, the Hong Kong sponsor, to lend her an extra painting so she can arrange for her to be in the center position.]

During the trip: [...]

You: [Why are you only saying this now! You really hate your junior.]

In the afternoon, Ju Hui was pulled away by Hui Ling alone. The long-haired, strong woman put her hands together and apologized for the sponsor's sudden interruption. She gave Ju Hui two days off because she had been working hard recently.

These past two days, Ju Hui has had a lot of free time, but she still hasn't returned to her studio.

Sheng Qijing was deeply troubled, which earned him a reputation for being petty and narrow-minded. Even Pu Yin knew that he disliked Ju Hui.

Pu Yin came to borrow the electric kiln again today. She glanced around the studio to make sure the person wasn't there, then asked, "Why did you treat them like that?"

Sheng Qijing sat back down at the table, humming in confusion, pretending not to understand who she was talking about.

Pu Yin clicked her tongue and sighed, "It has to be you. When you flatter someone, it's like a gentle breeze, but when you hate someone, it's like a knife slicing through blood."

"It's a painting or calligraphy piece that the sponsor added at the last minute. It's his own work, and he just wants to sell it for a good reputation." Sheng Qijing turned around. "You know I hate this kind of thing the most."

Pu Yin remained silent, observing that he had been busy and enjoying himself these past few days without Ju Hui, and seemed to be in good spirits. But she couldn't stand it and insisted on asking, "Did you kick her out because you found out... she has a boyfriend?"

Sheng Qijing's expression remained unchanged.

“Before, Xiaohui would be busy until six o’clock and ride her bicycle to the bus stop by herself. Now, the museum closes at one to five o’clock, and sometimes even four o’clock, when someone picks her up.”

Pu Yin pouted and said boastfully, "He's a really cool-looking guy."

Sheng Qijing's eye finally twitched, as if to say that her information was too outdated: "That's her brother. Don't you think they look alike?"

“Impossible.” Pu Yin took back her joke. “You Zhong also said they were siblings, but a woman’s intuition tells me that they are absolutely, without any, blood relation.”

"Oh, that has nothing to do with me." Sheng Qijing said coldly, turning back to continue typing.

Pu Yin lost interest in men who didn't like gossip. She glanced at the time; it was 2:30 PM.

"I'll come back to pick it up in three hours. Will you still be there then?"

"No," Sheng Qijing replied decisively. "I need to go to Liuli's house; the crib she ordered has been delivered to the gallery."

Liuli, the CEO of Mochen Gallery and a childhood friend of Sheng Qijing's sister, was five months pregnant by July. After the summer vacation started, Sheng Qijing took the initiative to invite her home to recuperate. Liuli was deeply moved and said that she was finally close to retirement.

The crib has been delivered to the gallery.

Pu Yin responded with an "oh," immediately unaware that anything was amiss.

Recently, Ju Hui hasn't been to the studio, but she keeps running into Sheng Qijing. Especially on this day, she even bumped into him at the art museum in the next city.

She didn't go not to avoid him, but because Bian Jiaping found her a portfolio tutor. Recently, besides tutoring, she has been brainstorming in the tutor's studio, so busy that she doesn't even have time to go back to Loft to get old drafts.

I had some free time today because Zhuang Hong, the sculptor from "The Painter," is having a solo exhibition here. I can learn a lot from it. Bian Jiaping also came along, and I accompanied her today since I had some free time.

Ju Hui first caught his eye in the crowd, followed by Sheng Qijing. Both were surprised for a moment before looking away.

Sheng Qijing looked over again. Today, Ju Hui was wearing Chanel, a light-colored retro green suit paired with pearls and a tweed belt, and the lace cuffs covered the inexplicable bruises on her arms.

She stood in front of "The Painter" with her "boyfriend".

The plaster figure with murky eyes extends its index finger, its arm outstretched, higher than its head. It is sketching the beauty in its heart, who is sacred and great, so the hand that touches her must also be high.

Ju Hui looked up and quietly observed the blind painter's devout expression.

"The Painter" uses only a single human figure to fully express its imagery, forcing the observing visitor to look up and contemplate. Ju Hui was immersed in it, slowly feeling the oppressive feeling brought by genius, which smelled... a lot like jealousy.

"Ju Hui".

Sheng Qijing's voice rang in my ear, "Do you need me to take you to see Teacher Zhuang Hong?"