Chapter 13: Sulking

How Do You Have the Gall to Say That About Me?

Right after they first got married, Bu Yao repeatedly asked Xing Yue to help her put on her shoes. At first, Xing Yue considered it a playful intimacy and didn’t mind at all. Later, she discovered that Bu Yao demanded this even in public, and would give her attitude if she refused.

She felt uncomfortable and communicated calmly with Bu Yao. The result was Bu Yao telling her matter-of-factly—”I’ve never needed to put on my own shoes since I was little. I don’t know how!”

Xing Yue thought, This is too ridiculous. Even an only daughter of a Queen wouldn’t be unable to put on shoes, right? She’s just messing with me.

Once, in school, Bu Yao hurt her leg during PE class and sat waiting for her to carry her. It happened to be a torrential downpour that day, and the traffic was terrible. She didn’t make it in time. When she arrived at the school, she saw Bu Yao hiding in a small pavilion waiting for her, her ankle swollen badly, her feet covered in mud, pants dirty.

“Didn’t the locker have spare slippers? If you can’t put on the cloth shoes, just wear the slippers first!” Xing Yue couldn’t understand. Bu Yao could have easily asked a classmate to grab the slippers; there was no need to go barefoot in the mud and hide there.

Asking a classmate for help wasn’t hard, but she couldn’t very well ask a classmate to put them on for her. Bu Yao still understood respecting classmates.

“Don’t you yell at me!” Bu Yao commanded, then added, “I don’t know how.”

Not that she wouldn’t wear them—she didn’t know how.

Xing Yue was shocked. She hadn’t expected Bu Yao wasn’t just speaking casually; she truly didn’t know how to put on shoes. An eighteen-year-old, already in university, yet so incapable of basic self-care.

This was something that completely negated her understanding of how things worked.

–

As if sensing what Xing Yue was thinking, Bu Yao leaned over and kissed Xing Yue on the cheek, her lips still slightly swollen from their intense kissing just moments before.

“Do you hate me?” Bu Yao asked, the corners of her eyes tinged red. It wasn’t even a question—it was a statement.

Xing Yue really seemed to despise her, wishing she would just disappear quickly and never appear before her again.

Xing Yue didn’t really want to answer this question. Why did adults have to pursue these things so thoroughly? She both hated and didn’t hate her. At the very least, she didn’t reject being intimate with Bu Yao.

“What do you think?” Xing Yue once again threw the question back. She picked up the towel to dry Bu Yao’s tail while asking, “Why did you suddenly seek me out?”

Ten years with no intersection whatsoever. One brief encounter at a dance, and you’re hopelessly entangled? The reason was too forced; she was constantly on guard.

Bu Yao had already answered before; Xing Yue just didn’t take it seriously.

Deep into the night, the entire duplex villa was dark. Only the small bedroom retained a fist-sized warm-colored bulb. The light was dim, not glaring, very comfortable.

Rain began to fall silently from the sky. The bedroom window was left open. The cold-toned Nordic floor tiles were soaked through in a patch. The curtains rustled and fluttered noisily. The pitter-patter of rain beat against the windowsill. The silent, sleepy night began to stir noisily.

In her haze, Xing Yue was woken by the noise. Anyway, there was nothing on the windowsill, so if the floor got wet, it got wet. She didn’t want to deal with it. Turning over, she hugged her little furnace and continued sleeping.

A wet, soft sensation swept across her face. Very hot, slightly ticklish. Without looking, she knew it was Bu Yao’s snake tongue.

She heard Bu Yao’s voice, soft and low: “Xing Yue… I’ve changed for the better. Don’t hate me.”

Xing Yue didn’t know how to respond and wanted to pretend to be asleep. But that snake tongue traveled from her face down to her neck. She couldn’t feign sleep any longer. Her index finger pressed against Bu Yao’s lips.

The snake tongue flickered out onto her fingertip, quickly retracting upon contact, then probed out again, touched and retracted, repeating endlessly.

Xing Yue’s eyes darkened. “Do you absolutely have to be in heat?”

Bu Yao’s face burned. She shook her head innocently, finally stopping the game.

She burrowed into Xing Yue’s embrace, rubbing the tip of her nose against Xing Yue’s chest, finding a comfortable position, resting her cheek there.

With this disruption, how could Xing Yue still sleep? She pulled Bu Yao’s tail over, kneading it in her hand, and asked huskily: “Does the Eldest Miss want to remarry?”

Bu Yao hadn’t expected Xing Yue to be so blunt. Instantly nervous to the point of stammering, she clutched the collar of Xing Yue’s clothes. “And… and you?”

At this moment, it felt as though if Xing Yue nodded, they could remarry immediately.

Actually, the reasons for their divorce weren’t solely Bu Yao’s love for humiliating people. There were also the disparities in their family backgrounds. Xing Yue had no voice in the Bu household. She wanted to move out and live alone with Bu Yao, but the Two Elders of the Bu Family disapproved.

The frequent charity galas, the various high-society social events—all of these made Xing Yue uneasy and out of place. She could appear graceful and poised, attending such occasions freely, but the moment she opened her mouth, her true colors would show, deeply exposing her inadequacies.

Xing Yue wasn’t originally afraid. If the Bu family needed it, she could change, could contribute to the Bu family’s business. But Father and Mother Bu were stingy with even a shred of appreciation, their words laced with ridicule that she wasn’t presentable.

When she confided in Bu Yao, Bu Yao blamed her for being overly sensitive and overthinking. Their backgrounds were different, they were from two different worlds; why force integration?

“I don’t want to,” Xing Yue said flatly, holding the little furnace in her arms, her heart cold as ice. “Marriage isn’t happy. Why would I remarry?”

Bu Yao struggled out of Xing Yue’s embrace, pulled away her tail, refusing to let Xing Yue play with it anymore. She propped herself up on the bed with both hands, leaning over to look at Xing Yue. “What part isn’t happy?”

That was a good question. Apart from the physical aspect, Xing Yue had been unhappy with Bu Yao in every conceivable way.

“Of course you were happy,” she said, lying flat on the bed, casually resting an arm on her forehead, yawning. “Got an extra servant to wait on you, why not be happy? I dressed you, put on your shoes, drove you to and from school, cooked for you during the day, coaxed you to sleep at night, even washed your hair. When going out, I had to carry your bag and shoes. Raise my voice a little and I was punished by kneeling on a keyboard. Not home by eight and I’m kicked out to sleep at the courtyard gate. Married to you, I had no human rights. And you still want me to remarry?”

Faced with these accusations, Bu Yao’s breathing turned ragged with urgency. She hurriedly tried to explain: “But isn’t that how dating always is? Don’t other couples cook for their wives and coax them to sleep? Don’t they all…”

“Stop, stop, stop—” Xing Yue interrupted Bu Yao. For better effect, she sat up from her lying position, leaning back against the headboard. “Eldest Miss Bu, please don’t whitewash your actions. With others, it’s mutual. With you, it was one-sided. You just ordered me to do this and that, treating me like a dog. If I told you to help me put on my shoes right now, would you be willing?”

The more they argued, the more frustrated she became. Xing Yue tilted her chin up. Her foot, under the blanket, moved to rest on Bu Yao’s stomach, her toes reaching downwards towards the warm snake scales. She deliberately stepped on it, the provocation clear.

The red snake tail curled up slightly. Bu Yao was stunned. “I don’t know how to put on shoes.”

Xing Yue sneered, tilting her head back, sarcastically: “By your logic, because you know nothing, you don’t have to do anything? And because I know how to do everything, I have to serve you in every way? If this is the married life you yearn for, that’s your happiness, not mine. I don’t want to remarry, don’t want to live that kind of life.”

This woman was truly something else. She had the courage to drop out and retake the law school exam, and damn well passed. She could attain such prestige in this field, so she clearly wasn’t afraid of learning; she just stubbornly refused to learn basic life skills.

She had seen it all now. Bu Yao’s bad habits were hard to change. As expected, a moment’s tenderness was all an act, coaxing her back to the Bu family to be a servant.

“Teach me.” Bu Yao said seriously, her gaze entirely fixed on Xing Yue.

That little expression was too earnest; even in the dim light, Xing Yue could see it clearly. Her feelings were complicated. Bu Yao was an adult! Even if she had never done those things herself, she had seen them, right? Seen how others operated, right?

How could there be someone in this world who needed to be taught such basic common sense? If the Bu family had no servants, would Bu Yao be unable to survive?

So stupid, yet with such a serious expression, it could anger Xing Yue to death. She couldn’t help but grumble: “The Eldest Miss Bu, besides being beautiful, is completely useless.”

After a whole night, it was under this taunt that Bu Yao’s temper finally teetered on the brink of exploding. Anger flickered in her eyes: “Why do you keep scolding me?”

“Just scolding you. You scolded me plenty before, didn’t you? What’s wrong with scolding you a couple of times?” Xing Yue’s own fire flared up. She flicked Bu Yao’s forehead with her index finger. “Unhappy with me? Unhappy with me, then go home. I’ll call a car for you.”

If they didn’t dredge up old scores, they could manage a false, polite coexistence. But once old scores were settled, the anger surged uncontrollably. She wanted to see what else Bu Yao could possibly say.

Bu Yao pushed Xing Yue’s foot away, her chest heaving violently. She glared fiercely at Xing Yue. “You said you have work tomorrow, yet here you are scolding me in the middle of the night instead of sleeping. Is it because you couldn’t handle those few rounds yesterday? No wonder you emphasized your age, laying the groundwork for your feebleness. You should have just said so! Beating around the bush, bah!”

“…”

After saying all this, Bu Yao still felt unsatisfied. She threw a pillow at Xing Yue’s face. “Damn face-con!”

She quickly scrambled off the bed, wanting to slip away. Her body ran fast, but her tail was still on the bed.

Xing Yue scooped it up with one hand, yanking her tail. By the time Bu Yao transformed into legs, it was too late to run. Her hands and feet were completely pinned down by Xing Yue.

“How do you have the gall to say that about me?” Xing Yue found it unbelievable, pressing the person into the bedding. “Heh, I haven’t even complained about your bad technique…”

“Tsk.”

Bu Yao quickly bit Xing Yue’s lip.

Xing Yue continued from where she left off: “I haven’t even complained about your tech… Tsk!”

Bit again by Bu Yao, her lower lip burning.

The woman beneath her glared with wide eyes, watching her intently, not allowing her to finish that sentence.

This posture made Xing Yue unable to help but laugh. She couldn’t say it anymore; if she did, the Eldest Miss would start crying. All claws and fangs, quite fierce.

“A kiss?” she asked, her voice softening.

Bu Yao’s eyes were moist. She ignored Xing Yue.

Xing Yue slowly leaned down, her entire body fully aligning with Bu Yao’s curves, head to toe, seamless, leaving no gap. She murmured in Bu Yao’s ear: “Yes or no?”

The low, husky voice, as if moistened by red wine, lazy and mature—it wasn’t a question, but a tease. A teasing with crushing dominance.

It was precisely because she understood this that Bu Yao felt both embarrassed and angry. She clenched her jaw and refused to make a single sound, sulking.

So close, even their breaths could mingle. In this moment, it was as if they were the most intimate people in the world.

Xing Yue touched Bu Yao’s forehead with her own, her index finger tracing those tightly closed red lips. Soft, moist, very sexy. She outlined the shape of the lips, pressing lightly. “Yes or no?”

As she asked, her fingertip continuously slid across Bu Yao’s lips. “I don’t like forcing others.”