Chapter 11: Serpent’s Kiss

Shall We Kiss?

Some things, children and the elderly can do, but a seemingly able-bodied adult cannot.

If anyone else witnessed this scene, the rumors would certainly be nasty. The shock level would be no less than seeing a glamorous, wealthy young lady streaking in the middle of the street.

Although Xing Yue disliked Bu Yao, she didn’t dislike her enough to want her mocked by onlookers. She had been mindful of this many years ago. No matter how fiercely they fought, if this happened outside, she would always help cover it up.

Now, it was purely a conditioned reflex. Xing Yue refused to admit she was completely under Bu Yao’s thumb. Sitting by the window, she turned her head to look at the scenery outside, the two of them sitting far apart.

As if feeling unsatisfied, she kicked the tail beside her with her foot.

Unfortunately, the car’s interior was simply too small. Even though there was an empty seat between her and Bu Yao, the red snake tail, coiled in two loops, still squeezed onto her.

The spot she had kicked hovered in the air for a few seconds, then slowly lowered again, even going so far as to rest heavily on her thigh, unbearably weighty.

Bu Yao’s tail was very beautiful, full and soft, with a gorgeous color and highly sensitive. The tiny snake scales made crawling motions on her leg, curling up in waves. Under the light and shadow, the tail looked even more stunning.

“Did you apply the medicine?” she asked, suddenly struck by conscience, remembering Bu Yao’s allergy.

Xing Yue asked casually, reaching out to stroke the snake tail. Most snake scales are cool and smooth, but the Fire Snake was unique; its scales had a matte texture and were hot.

It was too sensitive. It trembled with every touch. Within seconds, her entire palm became red and hot. She grasped the tail, gradually tightening her fingers, and just as the snake tail quivered, she suddenly squeezed hard.

Bu Yao was already ashamed of her inability to control her tail, and Xing Yue playing with it like this left her unable to speak.

Now, Xing Yue didn’t need to shoo her away; Bu Yao herself wanted to hide her tail.

“Don’t…” She hugged her tail, gathering it back inch by inch, pulling it from Xing Yue’s lap. Her voice was barely audible. “Don’t do that.”

She nestled into the corner by the car door, holding her tail tightly with both hands, resting her forehead on it to calm her erratic breathing, her burning face hidden within.

Only she knew why her tail had suddenly appeared… The clearer she understood, the hotter her face grew.

The car drove for a while before reaching the neighborhood where Xing Yue lived. She didn’t actually have much money. The small villa she bought wasn’t in the city center. For the same price, a place closer to the city center would only get you a tiny fifty-square-meter apartment.

In the suburbs, she could afford a small duplex villa. But it wasn’t very big either—two bedrooms, two living rooms, plus a garage.

The first floor had the living room, kitchen, and parking space; the second floor had the bedroom, recording studio, and a main hall. She didn’t even have extra space for a guest bedroom or study. This was the extent of her ability. Even this small duplex had cost her a significant chunk of her savings.

But Xing Yue never complained. She knew her financial situation was much better than the average office worker. It was just that she was constantly suppressed by the Bu family. This tiny income of hers was like begging on the street in their eyes.

Remembering all the past events, Xing Yue’s discontent bubbled up again. She stopped walking as she looked at the woman who had gotten out of the car with her and was already standing at her front door.

Didn’t she say she was just picking her up from work? Why had Bu Yao followed her here? And Butler Li had driven off in a flash, just leaving Bu Yao with her like this.

“You’re coming in with me?” Xing Yue asked uncertainly.

Bu Yao had calmed down, her feet stepping in delicate little high heels. She turned her face slightly and nodded.

Xing Yue laughed. “And what if I don’t let you in?”

If she refused entry, it seemed Bu Yao couldn’t do anything about it.

Bu Yao took a small bag out from her little rectangular black velvet purse. Inside were cotton swabs, medicinal powder, and ointment—all prescribed by the hospital.

She stuffed it into Xing Yue’s hands. At this moment, silence spoke louder than words.

Xing Yue bit her lower lip, almost drawing blood, utterly unable to utter a single word of refusal. That damn sense of morality!

“You couldn’t tell me you can’t use finger cots?” She grumbled as she led Bu Yao inside. “Just set on screwing me over, huh?”

Bu Yao followed behind Xing Yue, taking off her shoes in the entryway. She secretly looked around, surveying everything. “Why would I know beforehand that I couldn’t use finger cots?”

She must have used them for the first time to discover she was allergic to latex. Without ever trying, who would know in advance?

This counter-question made Xing Yue pause. She had dated girlfriends after the divorce, and naturally assumed Bu Yao had also been with other women. After all, it wasn’t three or five years—it had been ten. Ten years after the divorce, had Bu Yao really been with no one?

Suddenly realizing this, Xing Yue didn’t want to delve too deep. She tossed her keys on the entryway cabinet and went to the fridge for some ice water.

Bu Yao belatedly caught on to something. She followed to the kitchen, her gaze fixed intently on Xing Yue. “Xing Yue, after the divorce, did you date other girlfriends?”

The lights were on in the main hall, but the kitchen remained dark. The only light came from a distance, supplemented by the dim yellow illumination tube inside the fridge.

She could clearly see Xing Yue holding a curvaceous glass filled with ice cubes. As she tilted her head back to drink, her neckline slid, the scene utterly tempting. Even in profile, her superior features were flawless.

The mature, wifely allure on Xing Yue was too unfair—a forbidden, thrilling sensation, utterly captivating.

“What do you think?” Xing Yue didn’t answer directly.

That was as good as an answer. Bu Yao understood. A flame seemed to ignite within her instantly. She gasped sharply, her chest heaving dramatically, her eyes brimming with misty tears.

“What kind of woman was she?” Bu Yao asked, her tone unexpectedly calm.

Xing Yue didn’t want to discuss it. She nodded indifferently. “Very good.”

Bu Yao didn’t understand. “Why did you break up?”

Xing Yue’s attitude remained lazy. “I wasn’t good enough.”

She was very good. I wasn’t good enough.

Although Xing Yue had tried her best not to mention other women, summarizing that relationship in two simple sentences, she knew Bu Yao would make a scene.

Knowing Bu Yao’s temper, how could she think about another woman? This crime was too great; she’d have to kill her to vent her anger.

She waited a long time, the ice water in her glass finished, but Bu Yao’s outburst never came.

Xing Yue lightly swung her hand to close the fridge door.

Turning around, she leaned back against the fridge, looking at Bu Yao in the half-light. The entire environment was eerily silent, the air itself frozen. She could clearly hear Bu Yao’s breathing, heavy with anger.

She was very sure Bu Yao was furious right now. As for why she wasn’t throwing a tantrum at her, she couldn’t figure it out at this moment.

Barefoot, Bu Yao stared straight at Xing Yue, her thoughts unreadable. Suddenly, she moved closer, grabbing the front of Xing Yue’s shirt. “Then what did you say about me in front of her? Overbearing, shrewish, hot-tempered, flash marriage and flash divorce, never loved me?”

These questions were too childish for Xing Yue. For an eighteen-year-old Bu Yao to ask them was understandable. To still care about these things at twenty-eight was too girlish.

But seeing this face, eyes redder than a rabbit’s, about to cry, fiercely questioning her with such seriousness—she found she couldn’t mock Bu Yao’s childishness.

“No…” Xing Yue denied. She only cursed Bu Yao in front of her best friend. In front of others, family, colleagues—never. “I said the Eldest Miss Bu is very beautiful, the type one easily falls for at first sight.”

Back then, the reason she didn’t refuse the Bu family’s marriage proposal was solely because of Bu Yao’s looks. It was a flash marriage for her appearance. She couldn’t name any other good points about Bu Yao, but she hadn’t said anything else either.

Whether Xing Yue’s answer was true or not, Bu Yao’s heart felt somewhat soothed in that moment. She had no standing to be jealous anymore, no standing to demand that Xing Yue remain chaste for her.

This feeling was agonizing.

“Really?” Bu Yao asked. She let go of Xing Yue, looked up at the ceiling, and forcefully blinked her eyes.

Xing Yue didn’t like this situation. It felt oppressive. She even forbade Bu Yao from crying in her house. “No crying. Seeing women cry just annoys me.”

Especially a woman who had bullied her, trampled on her dignity.

More than that, it was a baseless panic. Bu Yao was too abnormal. For a fleeting moment, she actually thought getting along with the Bu Yao from ten years ago would be easier. At least back then, Bu Yao would arrogantly and bluntly say whatever she wanted, not like now.

She couldn’t figure her out at all.

The moment this thought surfaced, Xing Yue cursed herself inwardly. She was such a cheap bastard, actually missing the woman who made her carry her shoes. Absolutely cheap.

It would have been better if she hadn’t said that. The moment those words left her mouth, Bu Yao felt even worse. She quickly walked out of the kitchen, circled the first floor without finding a bedroom, and stomped upstairs. She opened the bathroom door, closed it, and squatted on the floor, tears pattering down.

This inexplicable operation made Xing Yue uncomfortable too. What was this? As if she had done something to wrong Bu Yao!

She lay on the sofa, a headache brewing. An old, distant voice echoed in her mind:

“Shut up! Stop crying! I said, don’t cry, you hear me?! Ah—Don’t scream! No crying!”

Xing Yue abruptly sat up from the sofa, her body trembling slightly, her lips pale, her limbs ice-cold.

She got up and walked towards the bathroom. Before she could knock, the door opened from the inside. Bu Yao threw herself at her, hugging her tightly.

Just one embrace, and it seemed to shatter the Eldest Miss Bu’s temperament completely.

“I’m getting older…” Xing Yue licked her lower lip, neither returning the hug nor pushing her away. “I might not have a lot of patience for you. Don’t take what I just said too much to heart.”

It wasn’t that she really found crying women annoying. She just couldn’t guess what Bu Yao wanted, and her heart was thrown into chaos by Bu Yao, causing her irritation.

Xing Yue was very conflicted. She didn’t like their old way of interacting. Now that Bu Yao was more forbearing than her, she still didn’t like it.

The proud swan lowering its head didn’t bring her the pleasure of gaining the upper hand. Her chest felt like it was being pricked by needles—not intensely painful, just a subtle stinging numbness… barely noticeable at first, but unbearable as the pricks accumulated. Over time, even the wind blowing on the needle holes would hurt.

Bu Yao lifted her head and asked her, her eyelashes still damp. “Shall we kiss?”

A soft, slick snake tongue flickered in the air, heated and silent. The forked tip licked intimately across Xing Yue’s chin.

Xing Yue politely declined. “I have work tomorrow.”

Bu Yao leaned against her, her body heat transferring continuously, her eyes full of coquettish reproach. “Just a serpent’s kiss. We won’t do anything else.”