I’m Not That Kind of Snake
Beyond that, Tan Xiang’e repeatedly swore she would never publicly reveal Xing Yue’s private information. She guaranteed absolute medical ethics, putting Xing Yue at ease.
If it could help more people suffering from the same condition, Xing Yue had no reason to refuse.
Seeing that Tan Xiang’e seemed to know quite a few experienced medical professors, Xing Yue suddenly thought of probing for her best friend’s sake: “Doctor, I have a friend. Whenever she sees her own snake-form python head, she gets… very strange.”
After searching for a moment, Xing Yue finally found the right adjective. Her expression turned subtle, and she elaborated: “Specifically, she gets physically aroused. Utterly fascinated. Even if someone else is right there beside her, she sees nothing. All she can see is the giant python head in the mirror. Her snake tongue licks the glass, that long tail wraps around itself, and she just rubs against herself…”
Xing Yue almost couldn’t go on. She had accidentally stumbled upon the scene once. At first, it scared her, but she didn’t overthink it. She assumed it was just a normal adult relieving needs. After getting over the shock, she’d even teased the girl a couple of times, but Bo Wuxue acted as if she couldn’t see Xing Yue at all, showing zero reaction.
That was when Xing Yue realized something was wrong. In a chance move, she threw some clothes over Bo Wuxue’s eyes, and only then did Bo Wuxue gradually snap back to her senses. But the moment the clothes were removed, the problem started again.
After repeating it several times, Xing Yue finally found the culprit—mirrors.
Besides mirrors, it was also water surfaces, anything reflective that showed her own face. Bo Wuxue couldn’t look at her own python head. The instant she saw it, she became hopelessly infatuated. No one else registered in her eyes; she only saw herself.
Xing Yue had never heard of such an illness. She didn’t know if it affected the body, and Bo Wuxue was too embarrassed to bring it up and refused to see a doctor.
“Do you think my friend’s… condition needs a doctor? Or is it harmless?”
Tan Xiang’e loved challenging rare diseases. Just from the first sentence of Xing Yue’s description, she had already figured out most of it.
“In all my years of practice, I’ve only handled one case of this illness. Medically, it’s called ‘Obsessive-Compulsive Perfect Serpentine Personality.’ Most patients have been chronically denied and had opposing viewpoints forcefully instilled in them during childhood.
For example: she likes a black dress, but her parents tell her black is ugly and only pink dresses are pretty. She likes beautiful butterflies, but people around her constantly negate what she loves, repeatedly emphasizing that butterflies come from hairy caterpillars and are ugly and disgusting. Things like that.”
“These patients find it very difficult to perceive beauty in anything except themselves. They feel that only they themselves are perfect enough to arouse their own desires.”
“Most of them suffer greatly psychologically. We are social creatures. Her inability to accept anyone but herself means marriage and children are extremely difficult for her. Physiologically, she’ll be frigid towards a partner. There’s a high probability she’ll never fall in love with anyone else in her lifetime.”
This serpentine personality that loves only itself amplifies a single thought upon seeing its own snake-form python face: I’m so beautiful, I’m so gorgeous, I want to marry myself. I can’t stand it, why is there only one of me in the world?
This leads to profound sadness. Some patients suffer so much they wish the self in the mirror could step out, to the point of agony and even suicide.
Xing Yue looked back over the years watching Bo Wuxue grow up. No wonder that girl had looked down on everyone since childhood. Other teenagers had vague, innocent crushes during puberty, but Bo Wuxue never had any romantic awakening whatsoever.
The illness sounded harmless, but was terrifying upon closer thought. Being engaged to a woman she didn’t even know was already painful enough. And now this condition meant she couldn’t fall for anyone else either, completely killing any possibility of love developing after an arranged marriage.
This was serious! Her best friend was far sicker than she was!
“Can’t medication help?” Xing Yue asked, clutching at a sliver of hope, her expression grim.
Tan Xiang’e shook her head: “There’s currently no treatment plan. First, this condition is incredibly rare worldwide. It’s a rare disease with insufficient medical research.
Second, Obsessive-Compulsive Perfect Serpentine Personality has one advantage: because patients deeply adore themselves, they constantly strive for self-improvement and possess astonishing talent. Currently, eighty percent of individuals who have won awards in biology, science, literature, and music in our country have this condition. There are orders from higher up preventing us from over-researching this illness… I trust I’ve made myself clear. We’re just ordinary people.”
Tan Xiang’e was actually being conservative. Many advanced devices were also invented by such patients, and the state had secretly established training bases.
She hinted at the truth, also advising Xing Yue not to waste time. No matter which hospital she went to, the answer would be the same—there would be no treatment plan.
It wasn’t that there was no cure. It was that higher authorities intervened to prevent one.
Xing Yue was utterly distracted on the entire way back. Her recent joy had barely lasted, and upon learning of Bo Wuxue’s condition, she couldn’t feel happy anymore.
She didn’t go home. The car headed towards the Bo Family Palace.
The first time Xing Yue met Bo Wuxue, the girl was barely four years old. She had come stumbling over to hug Xing Yue’s leg, babbling in a milky voice and calling her “Cousin.”
All around, the Bo family was laughing in amusement. The little girl looked up, only then realizing she’d hugged the wrong person. Blushing, she scampered away to hide behind Mother Bo, peeking her little face out to look at Xing Yue.
That day was a Bo family gathering. They’d come down from the city for some agritainment. Xing Yue, on summer break, had been dumped at her grandmother’s place. It was just a minor incident, but the Bo family had the bearing of a great house. That evening, they invited Xing Yue to join them as an apology.
Xing Yue hadn’t felt offended, and the little sticky-rice dumpling was incredibly cute. She didn’t feel they had any reason to apologize, but the person who came to invite her was the little sticky-rice dumpling herself.
“Do you want to eat something yummy?” Bo Wuxue rubbed her little belly, her small snake tail thumping against the floor. She looked up at Xing Yue, eyes full of anticipation.
Those eyes had a very poetic color name—Fish Master Cyan.
Her baby-fat cheeks were chubby and soft. She wore a gorgeous, pretty purple Western-style dress with a puffy skirt and a tiny little hat. So cute, so adorable, as exquisite as a doll. Xing Yue felt like melting from cuteness overload.
Coupled with her own physical disability and solitary nature, afraid of making friends, Bo Wuxue’s appearance was like a little angel. They got along wonderfully. Despite the age gap, there was no generation gap. Every summer during her school years, she and Bo Wuxue would go to the countryside to ride bikes, fly kites, pick strawberries, and gather field snails.
Up until then, Xing Yue had never made any other friends. She only hung out with Bo Wuxue.
Remembering what the doctor said, this was even harder to bear than the thought of being permanently disabled.
When the servants of the Bo family saw Xing Yue, they didn’t even need to inform the family head. They warmly opened the gates.
“Would Miss Xing like to stay for lunch? I can ask the cook to prepare some of your favorites?” the butler inquired.
“No need to trouble you. I’ll go out to eat with Little Snowflake.”
Little Snowflake was Bo Wuxue’s baby name, something only very close people were allowed to call her.
Xing Yue headed straight for Bo Wuxue’s room. As she reached the door, two servants each pulled open one half of the door. The bedroom was so enormous that Xing Yue walked for two minutes without passing the walk-in closet.
Right now, Bo Wuxue was sitting in front of her computer playing a game, mechanical keyboard clacking loudly. The battle was so fierce she hadn’t even noticed someone entering the room.
Xing Yue suddenly pulled Bo Wuxue up and hugged her tightly: “Tomorrow I start closed training. I won’t see you for two months. Let’s go out for a meal.”
She was so sad her eyes grew moist.
Bo Wuxue didn’t listen carefully at all, quickly pushing Xing Yue away: “E-sports have no room for emotions. Let me finish this match first.”
Watching Bo Wuxue return to her seat and keep gaming, Xing Yue sat aside to wait.
That mechanical keyboard was a gift from Xing Yue. Bo Wuxue’s father and mother didn’t allow her to play games, so Bo Wuxue only dared play when her parents were away on business.
Since childhood, Bo Wuxue had been instilled with the idea that she was the pride of the Green Stone Family. She learned perfumery, jewelry design, and dress design, because those were the family businesses.
She had no casual clothes. Every piece she wore had to be a dress. Every year, her birthday gifts were jewelry. She wasn’t allowed to like gaming, horseback riding, fencing, or wearing pants, sneakers, or having short hair.
Bo Wuxue’s whole life could only be about perfume, gemstones, and skirts.
Her childhood summers spent playing with Xing Yue in the countryside were her freest times.
After finishing the game, Bo Wuxue turned around. Seeing the look on Xing Yue’s face, like she was about to cry, she jumped in fright: “What’s wrong with you? Just because I wasn’t paying attention because of my game? It’s not that serious, r-rein it in. Don’t cry.”
Xing Yue didn’t speak. Her mood was heavy. She lay on the desk, looking at Bo Wuxue.
Bo Wuxue’s scalp prickled under the gaze. Unable to sit still, she stood up and moved elsewhere, wrapping her arms around herself, muttering: “Why are you looking at me like that… it’s weird. I treat you as my sister, you don’t have feelings for me, do you? That won’t do. I’m not that kind of snake.”
Their interactions had always been relaxed. The atmosphere had never been like this before.
Xing Yue, who had been moping, instantly stopped feeling sentimental at those words. The doctor didn’t mention this illness came with a tendency for wishful thinking.
“You should drink some Chinese medicine to regulate yourself,” Xing Yue said with disdain, pulling herself together. “Come have lunch with me. Next time we meet will be two months from now.”
It might even be longer. If she went straight to filming after training, it would be four or five months, at least.
Bo Wuxue changed her clothes, an English court-style formal dress, and spent nearly an hour putting on makeup.
Sometimes, Xing Yue felt tired just watching Bo Wuxue. This kind of clothing was extremely cumbersome to put on, and with its large skirt hoops, it was completely impractical for going out.
But Bo Wuxue had no choice. She had to be gorgeously dressed to step outside.
“I went to see Tan Xiang’e today,” Xing Yue said on the way, making small talk with Bo Wuxue. “A few treatment courses and I should be better.”
Bo Wuxue’s face lit up with excitement: “Really? Then when you get back, I can see your tail after all!”
Before, Bo Wuxue hadn’t known Xing Yue’s secret and had never seen Xing Yue’s snake tail. She thought Xing Yue just didn’t like playing with her and had secretly been sad about it.
Later, when she learned the truth, she was even sadder.
Xing Yue still wasn’t sure if she could actually be cured. Seeing how excited Bo Wuxue was, she didn’t want to dampen her spirits and said nothing more.
They went to a Western-style restaurant they often frequented. Bo Wuxue’s attire drew everyone’s eyes wherever she went, earning her an extremely high rate of second glances.
“In the future, when you reveal your snake body, can you look in mirrors less?” Xing Yue ordered several steaks suited to Bo Wuxue’s palate, deeply concerned. “I’ve never seen such a narcissist.”
Bo Wuxue was completely unbothered: “Who told me to be beautiful? If I weren’t beautiful, would I look at myself every day?”
“How are things going with your fiancée?” Xing Yue switched gears, somewhat wanting to find another way to protect her little Green Stone.
Bo Wuxue still hadn’t shared a bed with her fiancée. Once she did, Bo Wuxue would find herself cold towards everyone, only reacting to herself.
When they married, life would surely be hard.
Xing Yue thought it over and over, still not knowing how to bring it up with Bo Wuxue…
Maybe she should just tear this marriage apart.
“I think… you and that woman aren’t quite right for each other.”
The moment Xing Yue finished speaking, a wave of inexplicable guilt washed over her. She felt like she was doing something wrong.
“Then who do you think Young Miss Bo would be more suitable with?” A cold voice suddenly cut in between them.
Bu Yao had appeared in the restaurant at some point, having clearly heard every word Xing Yue said. Her coldly beautiful face carried a trace of anger.
She pulled out a chair directly and sat down beside Xing Yue: “You low-class green tea bitch. You haven’t even met her fiancée? You claim they’re not suitable without a single meeting? You just want to monopolize your best friend. Shameless slut!”
Xing Yue hurriedly covered Bu Yao’s mouth. This wasn’t a private booth, and she was afraid the neighboring tables would hear: “What are you saying?! Are you following me?”
Bu Yao slapped Xing Yue’s hand away, pulling out several resumes and slamming them on the table. Her voice was dark and resentful: “Who’s following you! I went out to look for a job! I want to work hard and earn money to give you a home. And here you are, brewing your tea art for another woman behind my back!”
Her accusation drew frequent glances from the surrounding diners. Suddenly, the situation looked like Xing Yue was a scummy woman who loved flirting with flowers while her hardworking wife toiled away to scrape together pennies for their household.
