Chapter 102: Bestie, Let
Teach You Calligraphy
Rustle, rustle...
The wind swept past the trees lining the manor entrance, stirring a chorus of plastic bags rubbing against one another. Two young maids carried bulging black trash bags in their hands, walking toward the public garbage bin outside the gate.
“Hey, sis, have you heard about that kind of calligraphy that’s been trending lately in the JM District?” the sweet-looking maid suddenly asked, her eyes sparkling. “I heard it was imported from abroad. It’s a fresh novelty—super fashionable.”
The other maid blinked in confusion. “Calligraphy? What’s that? So kind of magic from a novel?”
“Oh, co on, no!”
Thud!
The heavy trash bag was tossed into the bin. The maid dusted off her hands and wiped the sweat from her forehead before continuing, “It’s a very refined hobby. Let
tell you, not just anyone can handle it.”
Her companion shrugged indifferently. “You’re making it sound so exaggerated. What is it, really?”
“I heard you have to use a brush made from animal hair, dip it in specially prepared ink, and copy characters onto paper. But the focus isn’t the writing itself—it’s the whole process.” She gestured animatedly, her mouth moving nonstop.
“You have to grind the ink stick yourself, letting clear water slowly turn into ink of the perfect shade. Then you can begin copying.”
That stream of specialized terminology left the other girl completely baffled. What in the world was all that? It sounded strange, though she could not quite say why. Uncertain, she shook her head repeatedly.
“Grinding ink? A brush? I only know fountain pens. Isn’t this just another way of writing? What’s so special about it?”
“Tsk. See? I call you a country bumpkin and you still won’t believe .”
“Say that again?!”
The two young girls laughed and jostled each other as they walked back. Only then did they notice the black sedan parked outside the manor’s iron gate.
And a neatly dressed man in a suit squatting by the roadside, a cigarette between his fingers.
When he saw the maids approaching, he hurriedly hid the cigarette behind his back and forced a slightly awkward smile onto his face, trying to maintain a gentlemanly deanor while reluctant to part with a cigarette only half finished.
The two maids politely nodded and smiled at him before quickening their pace and leaving. Only after their figures disappeared around the manor’s corner did the man let out a breath of relief.
He glanced at the quiet car again, thinking that the Young Miss had been sitting inside for quite so ti now. Why had she not co out yet?
Well, with a cigarette for company, he might as well keep waiting.
...
The calligraphy lesson inside the car.
At that mont, Vivian gently lifted the maid’s chin with her fingers. The maid remained suspended between sleep and wakefulness, her eyes half-closed and her breathing steady—until Vivian’s lips once again covered hers.
Though it was not their first kiss, it still made Vivian’s heart race. She lightly nibbled the other girl’s soft red lips until Eve let out a muffled sound.
Seizing the opportunity, Vivian deepened the kiss. Her other hand stayed at the back of Eve’s head, grasping a large handful of white hair and pulling gently backward to keep her head tilted up.
You might ask—at this point, why was there no resistance?
First, she had willingly taken the bait of the blood-tinged taste lingering between those lips and teeth. And second...
To her, it was not truly uncomfortable. Moreover, she was still at the height of her drunken state.
When Vivian finally pulled away, a thin mist of moisture clouded Eve’s half-open eyes. Her maid uniform rose and fell with her breathing, the curves beneath shifting subtly.
“Are you satisfied?” Vivian’s voice was lowered, her warm breath brushing against Eve’s ear.
“Mm...” Eve’s reply was so soft it was nearly inaudible.
Vivian gave a quiet laugh, tinged with both helplessness and indulgence. “The way you look right now makes it seem as though I am bullying a fool.”
And you still know you are teasing a fool?
Eve did not respond. She only gazed at her with those misty eyes, her expression unfocused yet striving to remain attentive, as though she were trying to confirm the person before her.
“But I am not satisfied yet.”
With that, Vivian no longer hesitated. Her fingertips rested along the edge of the maid uniform at the chest, applying slight force as she tugged downward. As ntioned before, the off-shoulder design had been a wise choice—so convenient.
“...Young Miss?”
“Say my na,” Vivian suddenly demanded sharply. Yet her fingers paused in their movent. “Open your eyes. Look at . Say my na.”
No response ca—only that hazy, unfocused gaze. The disobedient display ignited a naless irritation within Vivian.
No reaction, is that it? You will regret this soon enough.
She began to express herself through action. Her subsequent exploration beca more deliberate, like the careful focus she had once applied when first practicing calligraphy.
Every movent required patience. There could be no haste, no carelessness.
Eve’s previously relaxed body tensed slightly, yet she still did not push Vivian away. Instead, she unconsciously gripped the edge of the seat.
“Eve,” Vivian suddenly called.
Still no reply. Yet her alcohol-flushed face turned faintly to one side, revealing the tip of a reddened ear. In itself, it seed like a silent signal.
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