Eldest Miss, please take pity on me.
It was the weekend, and Li Mountain was crowded with hikers. The small shop bustled, a cacophony of noise all around. He Zhiwen’s voice was very distinctive; when not teaching, she always had a sunny, lively smile—completely different from her classroom persona.
Seeing Xing Yue keep staring at the daisies on her hat, she raised a hand to touch them, then plucked the little cluster and held it in her palm, casually letting her hand drop to her side.
Xing Yue’s face showed little expression. Her gaze was deep. “Not yet. Probably only after Eldest Miss Bu and I have settled things. Maybe then she’ll help me.”
Having confirmed that Madam Bu truly hadn’t lifted a finger to help Xing Yue’s tail, He Zhiwen rushed forward, stumbling over those few steps. “Three years ago… didn’t Madam Bu seek you out? Why do you still have to wait…”
It had been exactly three years since they broke up.
“No,” Xing Yue answered flatly. “Why?”
Three years ago, Madam Bu had found He Zhiwen and made her leave Xing Yue, promising to heal Xing Yue’s tail. If she hesitated any longer, she’d said, Xing Yue would be in a wheelchair within a few years.
She never imagined that after being forced to leave, during these three years, Madam Bu had never once sought Xing Yue out. Indifferent, uncaring. Even now, the faint hope of Xing Yue getting help was only thanks to Bu Yao. She, He Zhiwen, had just been the dowry laid out for Bu Yao.
He Zhiwen shook her head desperately, not revealing the truth. She tried to force a smile, but her expression looked worse than crying. “I-I… let’s have a meal sometime.”
They were like strangers with a vague acquaintance, exchanging obligatory pleasantries.
Xing Yue was silent for a few seconds, then spoke lightly. “Alright. I heard you got married? You’ve always had good judgment. You must be living happily.”
That sentence seemed a little like self-praise. Xing Yue couldn’t help a small laugh. Her teasing tone made He Zhiwen feel a bit better.
“She, I…”
Before He Zhiwen could finish her reply, Xing Yue raised the water bottle she’d just bought, saying hastily, “Oh good. That’s good. Very good… I’ll get going. Talk later.”
She didn’t linger. Leaving the shop, she walked very quickly. The moment she turned away, the relaxed, languid expression on her face vanished completely.
Bu Yao was resting her feet in the pavilion, stretching her legs out to relax. A small electric fan hung around her neck. Before she could even make out Xing Yue’s face, she was suddenly yanked up violently. She was practically dragged and hauled out of the pavilion.
“Xing Yue!” Terrified, she lost a shoe. Her beige sock stepped into the dirt, instantly covered in mud. “Are you crazy?!”
Her arm was nearly dislocated from Xing Yue’s grip.
Xing Yue acted as if she didn’t hear, ignoring the stares of onlookers, forcibly dragging Bu Yao to a secluded area behind the mountain. Releasing her grip, Bu Yao stumbled and fell straight into the bushes.
“Ah—”
Bu Yao cried out in pain. Branches and leaves scraped her all over, a rock gouging her palm, skinning a raw patch clean off. She cradled her wrist, too afraid to touch the raw, bleeding wound, trembling from the pain, too weak to even curse Xing Yue.
“Your mother is truly something else. Chased away my girlfriend of seven years. Played her for a complete fool.” Xing Yue’s face was a gathering storm, terrifyingly dark. It seemed as if she could commit horrifying acts in the next second.
She hadn’t dared to be bluntly honest with He Zhiwen. She could only play dumb, pretend she hadn’t noticed. He Zhiwen surely wouldn’t want her to know, fearing Xing Yue would feel guilty. The truth was too cruel. No one got off easy.
Bu Yao used a nearby rock to pull herself up from the bushes. Her neck, ears, and cheeks were covered in scratches from branches. One hand was still seeping blood.
If she had just been angry at Xing Yue for manhandling her moments before, upon hearing Xing Yue mention her ex-girlfriend, that anger morphed into icy sarcasm.
“Slap!” Using her uninjured hand, Bu Yao slapped Xing Yue hard across the face without any hesitation. “Who do you think you are? Would my mother have the leisure to care about your sordid flings? What kind of person do you take her for? Tricked your ex-girlfriend? Laid a trap for her? What makes you, Xing Yue, so important that our family would go through so much trouble for your petty affairs? Don’t go throwing mud at my mother!”
In Bu Yao’s eyes, Madam Bu had always been the embodiment of gentle dignity. She granted Bu Yao’s every wish and was all-powerful. She adored her mother. How could she allow Xing Yue to slander her so recklessly?
The entire business and political world knew Madam Bu as a remarkably courageous, resourceful, and highly respected powerhouse. Doing something underhanded like this… it truly seemed unlikely.
But Madam Bu had done exactly that. More than once or twice. Constantly hitting Xing Yue where it hurt, using little schemes to humiliate her.
“Ha ha ha ha ha!” Xing Yue suddenly burst out laughing, as if she’d heard the most ridiculous joke in the world. She laughed until she couldn’t stand straight. Lacking tear glands, her pupils were visibly bloodshot. “Yes, yes. Your family is righteous and noble, of the highest integrity. Even just to tie your shoes, I should burn three incense sticks and pray on my knees!”
Seven years. A girlfriend of seven years. Twelve thousand photos saved in her phone—averaging four or five a day. Seven Valentine’s Days together. Someone she’d reached the point of discussing marriage with. And Bu Yao called her a sordid fling.
The pretense that ‘after the breakup, you’d live well, and I would too’—that paper-thin window dressing was shattered. He Zhiwen had painstakingly sewn those holes shut, patching every gap, afraid Xing Yue would be upset. She hadn’t said it out loud. And Xing Yue hadn’t dared to either.
Xing Yue’s heart was bleeding.
Bu Yao could guess that Xing Yue must have seen her ex, or heard something from someone. Whatever it was, Xing Yue’s reaction thoroughly displeased her.
“What’s with the sarcasm?” She lifted her chin.
Fifteen minutes ago, she’d been sitting in that pavilion, wondering if she’d gained weight recently, whether Xing Yue could actually carry her. Just fifteen minutes, and now Xing Yue looked like she wanted nothing more than to throttle her.
Bu Yao’s face was icy. Her eye sockets ached fiercely, but her attitude was hard. “If you’re so full of pride, then don’t cooperate with New Shadow Entertainment. Break the contract with the company. At your age, still swallowing your pride like this to make money… it’s just a pitiful sight.”
She simply couldn’t stand Xing Yue being vicious to her over an ex-girlfriend.
But when she saw Xing Yue fall silent, that almost sarcastic, almost smiling expression lingering on her face… a bad premonition struck her, and her heart fluttered with panic for no reason.
She wanted to be better. Xing Yue always provoked her.
Bu Yao grabbed Xing Yue. She said, rather out of nowhere, “I stopped my medication these past few days. I’m a bit emotionally unstable…”
Xing Yue brushed her hand off and started walking down the mountain alone.
Bu Yao followed behind. She’d fallen hard earlier and was barefoot, mud and grime caked on her skin, sharp stones digging into her soles. Within a few steps, she fell again, utterly disheveled.
“Xing Yue!” She tried to get up, but her calf muscles trembled violently. She collapsed again. Seeing Xing Yue’s figure grow farther and farther, panic gripped her. “Xing Yue, don’t go! You said you would carry me… Don’t leave me here… Xing Yue…”
“Are you the only one hurting? Dragging me through a crowd of tourists—did you ever consider my feelings?”
“Ugh… Xing Yue…”
It had been sunny all day, but by evening, the weather in Mo City turned foul, like a section of the sky had caved in. Thunder roared, rain hammering down in torrents like a waterfall.
At home, Xing Yue was sorting through property deeds, bank books, credit cards, luxury bags she could sell, jewelry. She calculated all her assets—excluding the apartment she’d bought for Xing Yingnuan—adding everything up.
Even if she liquidated everything she owned, she’d still need a loan of over six hundred thousand just to pay the contract penalty fee.
Meeting Bu Yao had left her with nothing, and now loaded with such a heavy debt. Frustrated, Xing Yue swept the scattered assets off the table. The contract termination letter she’d long typed out on her phone sat unsent.
Her mother’s hair was already greying. She couldn’t let the old woman sell her retirement house for this mess.
Xing Yue couldn’t swallow this anger, yet was powerless to change her situation. The suffocation made her wish she was dead.
Suddenly, Bo Wuxue sent several messages: 【Holy shit, have you seen the news? A few days ago, a woman was raped, murdered and dismembered on Li Mountain. It just broke today.】
【That’s the mountain you went to hike, right? The killer hasn’t been caught yet, might still be hiding in the mountains. Are you back home now? Don’t go out there to play, it’s terrifying.】
【Reply ASAP】
Xing Yue’s pupils constricted sharply. She texted Bo Wuxue a quick ‘1’, then, relying on memory, dialed Butler Li.
The call connected, but the person who answered wasn’t Butler Li. It was an unfamiliar male voice. After all these years, maybe Xing Yue remembered the number wrong, or maybe Butler Li had changed it.
Xing Yue walked to the window, reassuring herself. With rain this heavy, Bu Yao must have gone home. Even if she couldn’t get back alone, one phone call and a helicopter could be dispatched to fetch her—a trivial matter.
Surely she wouldn’t still be waiting on the mountain.
But this daughter of privilege was sometimes stubborn to death. If she really got her back up… Xing Yue had never met a woman who could outmatch Bu Yao.
Against her will, Xing Yue sent Bu Yao a WeChat message.
[?]
Three minutes later—
Xing Yue: [??]
She called Bu Yao. Only a cold, mechanical voice: 【Sorry, the subscriber you dialed is powered off.】
Xing Yue’s mind buzzed chaotically, irritated and restless. Even if she hated Bu Yao, she didn’t want her to have an accident now. Especially since she was the one who’d suggested the mountain trip.
Without even changing her shoes, she grabbed an umbrella and headed for the door. She pulled open the front door. Just as she took half a step out, her foot was suddenly blocked.
Xing Yue looked down. A soaking wet woman was leaning against her doorframe, asleep.
Bu Yao had somehow returned. One foot still had a shoe, the other bare. She was soaked through. Her clothes were heavy and sticky with mud.
Nearly every inch of exposed skin bore scratches from branches and twigs. Her left hand was festering, pus-filled, and inflamed. The torn, rotting flesh was ground deeply into grit and dirt. It was a horrifying sight.
Xing Yue nudged Bu Yao with her foot, the movement gentle, only stopping when Bu Yao showed signs of stirring. “Get in.”
Bu Yao’s eyes were bleary and confused. When she processed Xing Yue’s words, her eyes finally brightened a little. She slowly stood up and limped her way inside.
“Now,” Xing Yue held out her phone to Bu Yao, expressionless, “Call Uncle Li. Have him come pick you up. Or find your mother. Hurry up.”
Bu Yao must have been sleeping outside for a while; her lips were white from cold, still dripping water. She seemed to feel the chill and curled her feet up onto the sofa.
Even her voice trembled: “I… argued with my mom. Had a big fight. I’ve run away from home. No place to go.”
Xing Yue laughed coldly. “Oh, please. How could the Eldest Miss pick this moment to fall out with Madam Bu? I still need to rely on you to become a superstar, to swallow my pride and earn big bucks. Please, Eldest Miss, take pity on me. Make up with Madam Bu.”
Couldn’t go home, didn’t have money on her? Hotels didn’t exist? Had to sleep here, just to spite her.
Bu Yao didn’t engage with Xing Yue’s sarcasm. While spacing out on the mountain, she’d called to verify things. The answer she got led to a huge fight with her mother, her phone battery dying from the arguing. She still felt dazed. It wasn’t something easy to accept.
“Xing Yue, my mom said… she won’t interfere in your private affairs ever again.”
That was the result after an entire day. Xing Yue felt truly insulted. “That’s it?”
Bu Yao saw the property deeds and bank cards scattered messily across the floor. Her eyelids lowered. “I’ll compensate you…”
These words were so pathetically weak. They brought Xing Yue’s fury to its absolute peak. To casually ruin the latter half of her life, then dismiss it so perfunctorily. Her whole future was utterly worthless.
Her chest heaving, she shoved Bu Yao down onto the sofa, pinning her with one knee. Her hand clamped tightly over Bu Yao’s festering, mangled hand, thumb digging into the wound.
Xing Yue loomed over her, her voice dripping with malice. “Really? Say, if I want to call out my ex-girlfriend’s name while we’re doing it… could the Eldest Miss satisfy that request, too?”
Bu Yao froze. Her deathly pale face visibly blanched even further. It was impossible to tell if it was the pain in her hand, but tears gushed from her eyes like floodgates opening, surging wildly. She shook her head frantically.
She’d already cried so much on the mountain. Even blinking now was a piercing sting. Crying more like this, her eyes seemed about to dissolve.
Xing Yue’s other hand grabbed her face, fingers digging into the soft cheeks around her mouth, suppressing any sound of crying. Her eyes were dark and deep. “Didn’t the Eldest Miss say she’d compensate me? You can’t even handle this small thing. How will you compensate me?”
What could Bu Yao even do? She couldn’t even put on her own shoes. Never mind compensation; just getting her to stop needing to be waited on hand and foot would be an achievement.
Her hand radiated an abnormally high heat, far higher than a Fire Snake’s body temperature. She likely had a fever from the rain. Those ruby eyes were brimming with liquid, endlessly overflowing, every second spilling fresh tears.
Xing Yue clenched her eyes shut hard. She let go of Bu Yao, got off the sofa, and rummaged out a bottle of antiseptic solution, sterile gauze, and a fever-reducing pill. She placed them on the table.
Then she turned and went upstairs.
“I’m still not over my anger. Best not to make any noise that annoys me. If I get fed up, I’ll leave you the house. I’ll go.”
She warned Bu Yao. Her words weren’t even as fierce as the thunderstorm raging outside.
Deep into the night.
Xing Yue lay in bed, tossing and turning, unable to sleep. There really had been no sound from downstairs. It was past midnight. Had Bu Yao not come up to shower? No shower, no change of clothes, no blow-drying her hair? Had her brain cooked from the fever?
She couldn’t settle her mind. Then again, would Bu Yao even know how to use gauze? Didn’t she know wounds needed to be cleaned before applying antiseptic? What if Bu Yao truly didn’t know? If the wound got infected, worst case… amputation.
Already incapable of taking care of herself, and now losing a hand? Even more trouble.
Xing Yue was stifled with frustration. She grabbed a cup and went downstairs. Swerving by the kitchen, she filled it with water before coming out. Sipping water, she made her way into the living room.
Bu Yao was curled up on the sofa. Her outer clothing was tossed aside, leaving her in only a damp white tank top. The shape of her underwear was clearly visible—a three-quarter V-cut style, cleavage subtly hinted at beneath the soaked fabric.
Afflicted by the wind-cold, her breathing was slightly heavy. The medicine had made her sleep rather deeply.
Xing Yue reached out to check her temperature. The fever seemed to have subsided. Then she pinched a lock of the wet, dripping hair.
Xing Yue shook Bu Yao awake. “Go dry your hair. You’ve soaked my sofa. Do you know how expensive this set is?”
Groggy and muddled, Bu Yao half-opened her eyes. She sat up, spaced out for two seconds, then, like a booting program finally activating, stumbled drowsily towards the second floor, still clutching a sofa cushion in her hand.
When Xing Yue came up to check, Bu Yao had already helped herself to the bed. Her hair was partially dried, but her clothes were still wet.
Angry and helpless, Xing Yue pulled her up. “Don’t expect me to wait on you. Change your clothes.”
Bu Yao was limp all over, probably suffering greatly from the cold, her brain sluggish, reactions slowed.
Both her hands gripped the hem of the tank top. Right in front of Xing Yue, she lifted her arms and began pulling the top upwards. Her movements were slow. Lacking strength, she had to tug at it several times.
It happened so suddenly, Xing Yue didn’t even know where to look. Yet the directive her brain issued kept her eyes locked onto the same spot. She couldn’t avert her gaze.
The small tank top was tossed carelessly on the floor. Bu Yao knelt on the bedding, crawling on her knees towards the middle of the big bed. Flame-like red hair melded with snow-white skin, exquisitely delicate beyond compare.
Standing at the foot of the bed, Xing Yue took in the entire scene. Steadying her breathing, she patted the blanket. “Get down. Did I allow you to sleep in my bed?”
The woman’s voice was drowsy and languid: “Isn’t this supposed to be compensation… The request you made… I… agree to it.”
Though she feigned lazy charm, the trembling within those words was still caught by Xing Yue.
Bu Yao was gambling. Betting that Xing Yue wasn’t that kind of person. That there were many ways to hate her, to hurt her, but Xing Yue wouldn’t do that. And yet, she was terrified her bet was wrong. The tremor in her voice betrayed her completely.
That speculative wariness made Xing Yue sneer. “You really think I’m so noble?”
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