Chapter 17: Crippled

Should she go on to harm other girls too?

What Bo Wuxue didn’t know was that that very morning, Xing Yue had already promised the Eldest Miss she’d consider remarrying. Although she’d raised a few conditions, it still fell under “consideration in progress.”

She was raging fiercely on the sofa when, without warning, her tail was grabbed by Madam Bu and yanked out from behind.

“Little Xue is still as mischievous as before,” the woman gently stroked the python’s dark blue-green head with the warmth of an elder toward a junior. “Already engaged and still so childish. Big Brother Bo is truly blessed to have such an adorable daughter.”

The Bo and Bu families had deep ties. Father Bo and Father Bu were close friends, so naturally, the parents’ generation was quite close.

But Bo Wuxue couldn’t get along with the Bu family people. And since Madam Bu often bullied Xing Yue, she disliked this aunt even more. She’d been fierce just a moment ago, but now she instantly wilted, desperately trying to burrow into Xing Yue without a peep.

Xing Yue gathered the python-form Bo Wuxue onto her lap. It took considerable effort to calm herself down even slightly. She stacked all the plates of breakfast items on the table into a pile and moved them aside.

She made room for Little Green Stone, brushing aside Madam Bu’s gesture.

“I’m not young anymore. You can tell Bu Yao to find a younger woman,” Xing Yue said expressionlessly, the color silently draining from her lips.

Ji Wenyan hadn’t known Xing Yue for just a day. She naturally understood that Xing Yue had her own backbone—unyielding and unresponsive to persuasion. Her words dropped with weight: “Yao Bao came back to find you not because you’re exceptionally outstanding; it’s because the Bu family has always produced hopeless romantics. Unlike you—less than a year divorced, and you’ve already got a new girlfriend.”

Bu Yao hadn’t even pursued the matter, yet Ji Wenyan was the one throwing barbs.

Every word insinuated mockery that Xing Yue had found a new girlfriend so quickly, while her own daughter, in order to reconcile with Xing Yue, had endured years of painful therapy.

Every time she thought of it, it pained her deeply. Xing Yue wouldn’t be the one hurting—this woman had never truly loved her daughter much at all.

“Madam Bu,” Xing Yue was somewhat weary from dealing with this. The movement as she sank back onto the sofa fully revealed her exhaustion. Coldly, word by word, she said: “If you’ve come flying into a rage because I demanded Bu Yao learn to do laundry and such, I advise you not to waste your efforts on me. You can’t intimidate me. Your daughter volunteered. If my mood turns sour, I might just let your daughter wash my feet the next time we’re intimate.”

Given Bu Yao’s current fervor toward Xing Yue, if Xing Yue actually voiced the request, she might genuinely run off to wash her feet.

Those words failed to provoke Ji Wenyan. She gave a gentle laugh, methodically packed away the insulated container, and said: “Holding power over a woman who loves you doesn’t make you majestic.”

Lightly tossing out that line, she rose and left the break room. Her gait was graceful—like a wind sweeping in a violent storm.

Ji Wenyan was shrewd. With that single sentence pressing down, she was certain Xing Yue wouldn’t actually do such a thing. Persistent quarreling would only push Xing Yue, in a moment of impulsiveness, to truly take her anger out on Bu Yao.

But Xing Yue wasn’t bad enough, wasn’t cold enough—she even had an unusually strong moral compass and integrity. That’s why she suffered so much torment.

The moment Madam Bu left, Bo Wuxue transformed back into human form and threw a full set of military combat punches at thin air, gritting her teeth: “That old witch is absolutely unbearable! A’Yue, take revenge right before her eyes—sleep with her daughter, scheme for her family fortune, make Bu Yao give birth to seven or eight little snake eggs for you, carve up the Bu family! Then keep a dozen wild lovers on the side, switching batches every quarter! Kick out everyone with the surname Bu and move all your lovers into Bu Manor!”

This was infuriating beyond belief! She declared that Madam Bu was a hundred times more detestable than Eldest Miss Bu! A hundred times!

Xing Yue let out a heavy breath. Her gloomy mood was slightly soothed by the sight of Bo Wuxue going ballistic.

After that whole scene, how could Xing Yue still have the heart to work? She left the company before noon.

When the tardy collaborator finally arrived, Qiao Rui stared at the ceiling without a single proper glance in their direction, declaring: “Who’s Jiang Li? Our Xing Yue doesn’t like waiting. Miss Jiang can roll right back wherever she came from. We don’t serve people like that.”

To begin with, Jiang Li and Xing Yue weren’t even on the same level—one in the dubbing circle, one in the cover artist circle. No need for either to disparage the other.

True to her fiery temper, Qiao Rui immediately called security upstairs to clear out all irrelevant parties.

At night, the largest lesbian bar in Mo City was lively and bustling.

Xing Yue got her own table and drank alone in misery. Before, when she was in a bad mood, she’d drink with Little Green Stone. But now that Little Green Stone had a fiancée, Xing Yue was considerate enough not to invite her out anymore.

Many times, Xing Yue had felt grateful that she lacked tear glands. Otherwise, with all the suffering she’d endured in this life, she’d have cried herself blind.

Madam Bu’s words from the day still echoed in her ears. She had four more years left on her contract with the company. That meant, unless she paid the penalty fee to break it, she’d have to follow the company’s arrangements—show her face on all kinds of programs, become some so-called singer, celebrity…

Xing Yue kept drinking in silence, her anguish having no outlet.

Her phone suddenly rang with an incoming call. She pulled it out, and her nose stung with emotion. Stumbling, she made her way to the back alley of the bar, where it was quieter: “Mom…”

She called softly, her breathing somewhat unsteady.

Xing Yingnuan didn’t detect the distress on the other end. As always, she set about arranging marriages for Xing Yue: “Darling, come home this weekend. Mom has matched you with a few girls with decent qualifications.”

Hearing the all-too-familiar words, Xing Yue finally broke. She leaned back against a lamppost, crouched down on the ground, and was filled with desolation: “Blind dates, blind dates, blind dates—you call and it’s always only about this. So what if I never get married?”

She’d known full well what the call would be about, but she’d still answered, hoping her mother might show a little care for her—even just to ask if she’d eaten or gotten off work. Just those two things would’ve been enough.

Every time, it was urging her to marry, urging her to marry. As if not marrying was some monstrous, unforgivable crime. She was being pushed to death.

“What do you mean, ‘so what if I never get married’?” Xing Yingnuan’s voice grew considerably louder on the phone, scolding. “Do you still think you’re a young girl? You’re already thirty-five! Others your age have kids old enough to buy soy sauce! If you don’t want to come home for matchmaking, then find a girlfriend yourself.”

Normally, Xing Yingnuan nagged about this often enough, and each time Xing Yue would deflect it with casual excuses.

But today, with all the disastrous events of the day weighing on her, Xing Yue was now extremely sensitive about age. Hearing that number, combined with the alcohol surging to her head, her face instantly flushed with blood. She cried out hoarsely: “Do you think I don’t know why finding a girlfriend is so hard for me, Mom? I’m crippled! I don’t have a tail! Since I was seven, I’ve never shown my snake tail. Now I’m thirty-five—an old woman. Never mated with anyone. You know exactly why my ex-girlfriend and I broke up! Why should I go on to harm other girls?!”

She didn’t even wait to hang up. She hurled the phone directly onto the ground, smashing it to pieces.

Wrapping her arms around her knees, her entire body trembled like a sieve. A gloomy, cold wind made her lips turn pale. She couldn’t hold back her sobs. Her eyes were empty with no tears coming out, red as if they could bleed.

Healthy people had legs and a tail. During their estrus cycle, they needed to mate to find relief. Xing Yue had no tail. She could only use her legs to mate with her partner. She couldn’t mate properly, nor could she relieve her partner’s heat cycle.

For a snake, this was an intensely painful torment.

Bu Yao was an exception. Her body had always been different from ordinary people. Her snake tail was deeply controlled by Xing Yue. When her heat cycle came, no matter how Xing Yue worked it, she could reach climax—she didn’t even need to mate.

Their family backgrounds didn’t match. The mountains were too high, too vast for Xing Yue to overcome. Yet, she had to admit—her body was most compatible with Bu Yao.

Under the boundless night sky, a light drizzle began to fall. The air was chilly and damp. Xing Yue picked up her now completely black-screened phone, removed the SIM card and put it in her bag, then packed the ruined device away as well.

Just like that, she wandered the streets in the drizzly rain, her entire body ice-cold to the bone. At this age, she was facing a major upheaval in her career while still being pressured to marry.

The stress on Xing Yue was too great—especially since her legs weren’t in good condition. She was just an ordinary person; she was terrified of paralysis, terrified of needing a wheelchair…

The sudden rain meant the streets were mostly empty. Every taxi that passed already had passengers. Xing Yue couldn’t hail one, so she had to walk back.

She’d drunk quite a bit and was staggering as she walked. It was past three in the morning when she finally made it near her home. Just as she was almost at her doorstep, her body abruptly lost balance and she toppled headfirst into the grassy ground, covered in mud and grass stains.

Icy rainwater poured down on her face, with rolling thunder roaring in her ears.

Xing Yue was so tired. She didn’t want to get up. Her eyelids were heavy, fighting to close. Suddenly, a flash of red entered her vision, and the sensation of being pelted by rain abruptly vanished.

She forced her eyes open and finally saw clearly the person before her…

Bu Yao held an umbrella, crouching beside Xing Yue. She wore no shoes, letting the filthy mud splash on her delicate, pampered feet. It was hard to tell if she was angry or heartbroken as she demanded, “Where did you go? I looked everywhere and couldn’t find you.”

Under the influence of alcohol, Xing Yue’s reactions were sluggish. She was stunned for several seconds, unable to speak.

Fortunately, Xing Yue wasn’t drunk to the point of being completely incapacitated. With Bu Yao’s help, she got up. The two of them shared the umbrella and returned to the small duplex.

Due to the lightning, the power had gone out. Only a single lit candle provided light.

Xing Yue wrapped her arms around Bu Yao from behind, pressing her chest against that naturally warm, soft back. She sighed in comfort, “Let me hold you for a while.”

She closed her sore, tired eyes. Her breathing gradually steadied. Her icy-cold skin snuggled against the Little Fire Snake, her body temperature slowly rising.

Bu Yao could sense that Xing Yue’s mood tonight was utterly terrible, that she seemed exhausted. For once, she stayed quiet and obediently let Xing Yue hold her.

“What did you come to find me for?” Xing Yue’s voice was more than half hoarse now. Her snake tongue licked Bu Yao’s cheek. “Worried about me?”

Bu Yao could smell the alcohol. Her ears flushed red from the scent. She nodded hastily.

Xing Yue tightened her arms, holding the person in her embrace even closer, as if trying to fill the void in her heart: “I want to hear you say it out loud.”