She didn’t know what snake species Xing Yue was.
It was no wonder Bu Yao’s emotions had suddenly erupted. Since that phone call, Xing Yue had been teasing her, gotten close to her in the office, kept stringing her along.
The mood had already been set. And then Xing Yue abruptly changed her mind and wanted to send her home. Bu Yao felt toyed with, and her temper gradually showed itself.
Seeing Bu Yao silent, no longer demanding to get out of the car, Xing Yue changed course, heading for her own home.
Having a little fireball accompany her wasn’t bad. She’d slept alone for so long; the older she got, the more she felt the loneliness.
But it wasn’t as if she was so lonely she needed a woman she didn’t have deep enough feelings for to warm her bed. She didn’t dislike Bu Yao; there was some affection, just not deep love. Sleeping chastely together was acceptable. But if Bu Yao were a little more forward, it seemed she wouldn’t necessarily refuse either.
Xing Yue knew this. And Bu Yao knew it too.
Back home, Xing Yue first checked on the camellia tree planted in the yard. The ground was littered with crumpled, dead leaves, though the blossoms themselves were intact. Her heart ached.
“Don’t destroy my flowers, okay?” She pulled the woman beside her close, pinching and tugging her cheek. “Four years of nurturing to bloom just once. If you strip any more leaves, I’ll tie you to the tree.”
This was clearly the result of Bu Yao throwing a tantrum while on the phone earlier.
Though she’d only stripped leaves, not lost her mind enough to target the flowers, the crime was comparable. Xing Yue had pruned the camellia in her yard herself; all the remaining growth was healthy. Neglected for half a day, Bu Yao had wrecked nearly half of it. The gardener’s heart was heavy.
Her cheek, pinched, reddened in a circle. Bu Yao’s face still bore the tear tracks from crying in the car. She stepped forward and hugged Xing Yue, her bright, glistening pupils filled with the woman before her. “I’m sorry. Tie me up. I was too bad.”
These eyes were far too deceptive. Even on that coldly elegant face, their feigned innocence made it seem like she’d truly realized her mistake and was earnestly begging Xing Yue to punish her. Anyone seeing that would be utterly fooled, calling her a good girl.
Only Xing Yue understood: how could the Eldest Miss Bu possibly be wrong? Even if she realized it, even knowing it was wrong, she’d still do it again. Because this daughter of privilege was Bu Yao. The Eldest Miss liked doing things based purely on her mood.
Xing Yue stroked that long hair, more beautiful than the red camellias. Her fingers slid through, grasping it like catching the last rays of a setting sun. Too beautiful. So beautiful she could unconditionally forgive Bu Yao’s transgressions in the flower garden.
“If the Eldest Miss turns back into her snake form… should I lock you in a cage?” She leaned down, her snake tongue flicking out, brushing Bu Yao’s flushed face.
The moment she drew close, the scent of Bu Yao’s snake tail permeated everywhere, even the very air seeming saturated.
Xing Yue’s expression stiffened slightly. The constant, overwhelming wave of fragrance invaded her senses without any gap. Every snake had its own unique scent.
Xing Yue had none. She hadn’t revealed her tail for decades. Her body carried only a clean, crisp freshness, or the scent of perfume. Her eyes dimmed. Suddenly, her interest vanished. She released the red strands of hair in her hand. “It’s late. Let’s sleep.”
Bu Yao froze in place. Her face still held the cool residue of the snake tongue’s lick. Aside from Fire Snakes, the body temperature of other snake species was naturally cool.
Some preferred dry environments, some damp. She didn’t know what snake species Xing Yue was. She had never seen it. She only knew Xing Yue liked high temperatures, loved the heat.
She watched Xing Yue climb the stairs to the second floor. No looking back, no waiting for her. Xing Yue said nothing. Under the cover of night, the boundless solitude felt even more stark and desolate.
It was at this moment that Bu Yao truly admitted something. Xing Yue had no one to confide in, no one to share her pain. And she, one of the few who knew Xing Yue’s secret, actually hurt Xing Yue like this…
She was understanding it with stark clarity: Xing Yue’s married days with her hadn’t been happy. Being loved by her wasn’t a joyful thing for Xing Yue. She was hurting Xing Yue. Ten years ago, and ten years later.
She’d been busy with work for most of the day, got home late at night, argued on the road, and came back to find her beloved flowers stripped of leaves. To say she wasn’t tired would be a lie.
Xing Yue was utterly exhausted, body and soul. She lay soaking in the bathtub. The water temperature was just right, giving her ample space to zone out.
Calming down to think, why was she even entangled with Bu Yao? If Bu Yao hadn’t appeared, her mood wouldn’t be this chaotic mess day after day.
Xing Yue deeply despised her own behavior. She casually grabbed the waist sash from the rack and tied it over her eyes. She sighed. For a face-con like her, she’d probably have to gouge her own eyes out to live a normal life.
She shook her head, self-deprecating, her vision pitch black. Both arms rested open on the tub edges. Tilting her head back, she let her entire body fully relax.
Utterly unaware that a red python had silently slithered into the bathroom. It raised its body, scaling the tub wall. Six meters long, climbing in was effortless.
It sank into the water, head and body surfacing, its tail slowly coiling and crawling in. Water continuously seeped over the tub’s edge. By the time the entire tail was inside, the whole space had become cramped.
It inevitably brushed against Xing Yue’s foot, startling her so much her leg twitched and recoiled.
Before she could even remove the blindfold, water gently surged towards her. A warm snake body glided into her arms. A damp snake tongue licked her chin.
Xing Yue pulled the fire snake close, fumbling from memory for the body wash. She lathered up the soap and began scrubbing the Little Fire Snake.
She’d still overestimated herself. Even blindfolded, unable to see Bu Yao, images still automatically surfaced in her mind. Wetted snake scales glittered, especially the red ones. Emerging from the water, the python’s body only became more alluring and magnificent, fiercely vibrant.
She couldn’t help but let her own snake tongue flicker out. The steam-filled room reddened her skin. This feeling of not seeing, relying entirely on imagination—yet deep down she knew: Bu Yao would only be more beautiful, more captivating, than she ever imagined.
Damp red strands of hair fell onto Xing Yue’s shoulder, accompanied by Bu Yao’s small hands clasping there. Xing Yue tilted her head back, motionless, letting the soft lips capture hers, kissing her. The two kissed in the bathroom.
Tomorrow, Xing Yue didn’t have to work. They had three whole days. But Bu Yao wasn’t as forward as Xing Yue had anticipated. They tumbled into the bedsheets, just holding each other quietly.
Xing Yue’s hand stroked and patted the snake tail absently. Her fatigued body and mind felt somewhat soothed.
“Xing Yue, in the bathroom… what were you thinking?” Bu Yao leaned against the headboard, looking down at Xing Yue, whose head rested on her tail.
Xing Yue answered truthfully: “Thinking… if I gouged out my eyes, could I stop being such a shallow face-con.”
“…”
Bu Yao reached out and covered Xing Yue’s eyes, hugging her from behind. “No way. I want to kiss them.”
Her tone was decidedly possessive, as if Xing Yue belonged to her. She loved kissing Xing Yue’s eyes. Gouging them out meant she couldn’t kiss them anymore.
Surprisingly, Xing Yue didn’t get angry, nor did the words bother her. She turned over, amused, and pulled Bu Yao into her arms. “Kiss them, you can kiss them. Here…”
The two tussled playfully on the bed. Bu Yao hid under the covers. When Xing Yue burrowed in after her, she pulled the blanket right up over their heads. She lay on Xing Yue’s chest. The darkness gave her a little less shyness, allowing her to say things she normally couldn’t, the embarrassing words.
“What I said in the car… you, Xing Yue, you…” She couldn’t even manage a complete sentence, stammering fragments.
It took her forever to force it out, her eye sockets still red: “D-don’t take it seriously.”
Even without seeing, Xing Yue knew Bu Yao’s expression. Unwilling to let her off so easily, she reached out in the dark and pinched the snake tail: “No can do. What if I already took it seriously? Truer than pearls. Even wanted to throw you out.”
That part wasn’t entirely false. In her moment of rage, she’d really considered ditching Bu Yao.
“Don’t,” Bu Yao protested, her voice soft and sweet, carrying a hint of a sob. “Even if you have no tail, I still like you. More and more each day.”
It was undeniable: the heart-piercing words Bu Yao had blurted out were indeed spoken in anger. If she truly despised Xing Yue’s physical condition, her inability to show her tail, she wouldn’t have loved Xing Yue for so many years.
“Hard to see it,” Xing Yue circled back to what Bu Yao had said, emphasizing the key point. “Didn’t you say you don’t like doing it with me? How does that show more liking each day?”
This accusatory remark made Bu Yao both embarrassed and annoyed. Whether she liked it or not—did Xing Yue honestly not know? Even her snake tail preferred sticking to Xing Yue over herself. She, the body’s master, couldn’t fully control it, but Xing Yue could. The answer was obvious.
“I do like it!” She emphasized.
What started as an attempt to coax Xing Yue somehow ended with herself getting worked up.
Xing Yue couldn’t help but laugh. That lazy, magnetic laugh made Bu Yao’s face burn even more. Now even angrier, she rubbed her forehead insistently against Xing Yue.
A single sentence wouldn’t brush Xing Yue off. With one hand, she pulled down the blanket, letting the bright lamplight fall directly on Bu Yao’s face. Even the fine downy hair on her cheeks was clearly visible.
“The Eldest Miss doesn’t even seem sorry when she apologizes. What do you like? If you don’t say it, I can’t feel your remorse.”
Without the blanket’s cover, Bu Yao’s embarrassment skyrocketed. There was no way she could say it now: “I don’t know how to say it…”
She rarely spoke so softly and coquettishly, thinking playing weak would make Xing Yue let her off.
She didn’t realize this only amplified Xing Yue’s mischievous streak: “Say it the way you said it in the car. Was it the wrong location? Should we go to the parking garage?”
Xing Yue even said it with a perfectly serious tone, as if it was a conclusion reached after deep thought and careful consideration.
This hypothetical scenario was enough to make Bu Yao’s face burn completely through. She wanted to cover Xing Yue’s eyes: “I’ll say it! Just don’t look at me!”
Her hands were intercepted by Xing Yue, who deliberately grasped Bu Yao’s wrists, pinning her firmly, offering no chance to hide away. “How do I know you’re being sincere if I’m not looking at you while you say it?”
Bu Yao’s face was practically steaming. Her hands were trapped, unable to even hide her face. Her red lips uttered the scorching words: “I like… Sister… I… like doing… with… Sister…”
The final word seemed to cancel itself out, muffled by her chaotic, buzzing mind. The words, disrupted by her pounding heart, were something she herself couldn’t hear clearly. But someone else heard them perfectly well.
Xing Yue, like a well-satiated fox, still wasn’t satisfied. She deliberately raised her voice: “Really, now?”
The Eldest Miss nodded as rapidly as a chick pecking grain.
The dark, quiet night suddenly felt less agonizing. Xing Yue was indeed soothed. She hugged the red snake tail, nuzzling and petting it, her mood considerably lifted. Even their wedding night ten years ago hadn’t been this sweetly intimate.
On the first day of leave, Xing Yue and Bu Yao planned to hike up a mountain. In the evening, they’d have a barbecue by the sea. If the atmosphere was good, they might rent a small yacht and spend two days out on the water.
Last night’s events had significantly improved their relationship. Without Bu Yao needing to ask, Xing Yue proactively put on Bu Yao’s shoes. She’d even specially ordered a comfortable pair suitable for hiking, delivered early that morning.
Actually, Bu Yao didn’t like hiking. To be blunt, she physically couldn’t handle it. But Xing Yue hadn’t watched a sunset in ages and had even added, “If you’re too tired to climb, I’ll carry you.”
This left Bu Yao stunned for a moment, her face flushing hot. If she’d known Xing Yue liked this sort of thing, she’d say it ten or eight times a day. The sudden happiness felt somewhat unreal.
“You won’t trick me, right? Lure me halfway up the mountain, then refuse to carry me.” She eyed Xing Yue with wary suspicion.
Xing Yue put soft socks on her. “If I don’t carry you, you can just turn back into your snake form and climb. You really do need exercise, you’re so delicate.”
“No, I won’t climb. I’ll turn into my snake form and you carry me…”
From the moment they set off, they bickered the whole way. Barely a fraction of the way up, Bu Yao was already crying tired.
Xing Yue got Bu Yao settled in a pavilion to rest while she went to a small shop nearby to buy water.
While waiting in line among the crowd, someone called out from behind her—
“A’Yue.”
A familiar voice. Xing Yue’s heart reflexively clenched.
Turning back, she saw He Zhiwen standing a short distance away, also in line. Her petite figure wore a refreshingly cute hat, making her delicate face appear even more refined.
There was a small cluster of daisies tucked into the hat. Someone else must have just picked them and put them there for her.
Perhaps because they hadn’t seen each other in so long, He Zhiwen was a bit stirred, a myriad of emotions flashing by. But on her face, it was just a gentle smile. “Is your snake tail doing alright?”
Her voice was soft, meant only for Xing Yue to hear.
Xing Yue didn’t know why He Zhiwen suddenly brought this up. Even during their seven years together, He Zhiwen had rarely spoken of it.
Seeing the look on Xing Yue’s face, the woman’s own expression changed drastically. A bitter realization seemed to dawn on her. She smiled bitterly: “Was the treatment ineffective? Or… did Madam Bu never actually send someone to heal your tail?”
