Chapter 21 Part 2

Unable to get the pill, the Little Snake whined in frustration. In the end, she directly used her tail to press against Ah Wan’s back, forcing her down, and took a bite.

Her warm lips brushed against Ah Wan’s mouth. In that electric instant, it felt like an eternity.

Ah Wan stared into the Little Snake’s eyes for a long while before reluctantly releasing her mouth. The pill fell into hers.

She then rested the Little Snake’s head on her palm, her left hand supporting the curve of her waist, kneading the two small dimples at her lower back.

After taking the medicine, the burning sensation on the Little Snake quickly faded. Ah Wan’s kneading was also exceptionally comfortable, like soaking in a warm pool.

Her tail trembled slightly, wrapped lazily around Ah Wan’s leg with a sluggish, indolent energy, gently rubbing. Her scales lightly scraped against Ah Wan’s skin.

“Human~”

The Little Snake hummed in comfort. Clinging to Ah Wan’s arm, she murmured softly, “Like.”

Then her little head tilted to the side and she fell asleep. The snake tail wrapped around Ah Wan’s leg also unraveled, coiling downwards.

With each coil that loosened, Ah Wan’s heart sank a few degrees.

“How can she not understand?”

Ah Wan hugged her and rolled over, letting the Little Snake lie on top of her. She truly felt her weight and warmth. Gently rubbing her head, she sighed unwillingly.

After a moment of hesitation, she still cupped her face and gently kissed her on the tip of her nose. It was chaste, a comforting muah. As if consoling herself: “It’s okay if she doesn’t understand.”

She had time. She could teach her, slowly.

~

In the early morning, Ah Wan’s biological clock woke her promptly.

The little one in her arms was sleeping soundly on top of her. Ah Wan reached under the blanket. The cool, smooth snake tail had already transformed into a pair of legs, which were domineeringly draped sideways across her waist.

They were dry. The mating season must have ended.

Ah Wan stared at her for a long time, then twisted a lock of the Little Snake’s hair around her finger and kissed it. She carefully tried to get up, but accidentally woke the Little Snake in her arms.

The Little Snake cracked one eye open, saw it was her, and immediately whined, chasing after her.

“I’m getting up to cook.” Ah Wan explained. But a pair of bare, tender arms hooked around her neck without any argument.

The Little Snake sprawled entirely on Ah Wan, clinging to her tightly like a koala. Her cheek pressed firmly against Ah Wan’s chest as she hummed in dissatisfaction.

Lying flat on her back, Ah Wan sighed helplessly and patted her on the bottom, her voice very light. “Get up. I need to cook.”

“No.” The Little Snake threw a tantrum.

Perhaps it was because her mating season had just passed, but at this moment, she was deeply dependent on Ah Wan, both physically and mentally.

Ah Wan had no way to deal with her. She could only lift the blanket and pick her up, walking toward the kitchen just like that.

The two of them had eaten almost nothing since yesterday. She didn’t know if the Little Snake was hungry, but Ah Wan certainly was.

With one arm she held the fair-skinned girl, and with the other she prepared congee. After thinking for a moment, she still took a piece of meat from the fridge and set it aside to thaw.

The Little Snake lay obediently on her shoulder, her legs dangling around her waist.

Ah Wan’s waistline didn’t smooth out; instead, it curved inward slightly, as if it were a place custom-made for the Little Snake, perfectly allowing her legs to hook there.

The heat was too high, and the congee in the pot boiled over. Ah Wan rushed to turn down the heat, forgetting to pat her.

A slightly aggrieved and dissatisfied whine sounded from behind her. Ah Wan finally patted her back. She turned off the heat and sat her down on the kitchen counter.

The clothes the Little Snake was wearing were the ones Ah Wan had worn yesterday. She had woken up once during the night and hazily grabbed Ah Wan’s clothes, refusing to let go. Ah Wan had to take it off herself and put it on her.

It always seemed like this — body heat familiarized itself with the Little Snake sooner than her own feelings did.

The clothes, though oversized, weren’t long. On the Little Snake, they barely covered her bottom. Sitting down made them even shorter. The stone countertop was so cold it made her flinch. She stretched out her hands, wanting Ah Wan to hold her.

Ah Wan didn’t agree, but didn’t dare push her away either. Instead, she braced her hands on the counter on either side of the girl and slowly leaned in.

After hesitating for a moment, she gently pressed her forehead against the Little Snake’s and gazed down.

They drew closer and closer. Everything about the two figures gradually merged, except for their flesh.

Souls tentatively touched, yet bodies shrank back in fear.

Bright sunlight pierced through the window. Ah Wan counted the fine, downy hairs on the girl’s face. Unable to resist, she gently poked the girl’s chubby cheek with her finger. Only then did she slowly lift her eyes to meet that clear, bright gaze.

The moment their eyes met, time seemed to stand still.

Ah Wan stared for a moment, but was the first to look away. Her crow-feather-like lashes fluttered twice, and her gaze landed on the tiny pink mole at the tip of the Little Snake’s nose.

How was everything so pink…

As if bewitched, Ah Wan moved in bit by bit, wanting to gently bite that tiny mole.

But as she advanced, the Little Snake retreated, her back against the cold wall, her hands bracing against Ah Wan’s chest. She questioned fiercely yet timidly, “Human, are you going to eat Snakey?”

Ah Wan snapped back to her senses instantly. She let go of her and straightened up. Turning around as a cover, she opened the cabinet to get a bowl.

“Human!”

The Little Snake pointed at the bowls that were already placed nearby and reminded her seriously, “You got a bowl.”

Ah Wan turned around. Holding the bowl in her hand left her unable to put it down or keep holding it. Her ears instantly flared red.

“Human, you’re so strange.” The Little Snake pinched her own ears and pulled them outward, wanting to show Ah Wan. She explained, “Here. It turned red all of a sudden.”

After a thought, she asked curiously, “Did Human also go into mating season?”

Ah Wan quietly put the bowl down. Gritting her teeth, her tone flat, she replied, “Humans don’t go into mating season.”

The Little Snake was instantly astonished. “They don’t? But last time, Human went into mating season too.”

“That was because I took the wrong medicine.” Ah Wan explained while ladling out her own breakfast. She turned and walked away with the bowl.

Watching her leave, the Little Snake jumped off the counter too, padding after her on bare feet, her head cocked as she pondered Ah Wan’s words with great effort. She asked again, “If humans don’t have a mating season, how do they lay eggs and hatch little snakes?”

Hearing this, Ah Wan’s footsteps halted abruptly. The congee in her bowl nearly sloshed out.

She turned her head to look at the bewildered little creature, frowned, and asked back, “You really want to lay eggs and hatch little snakes?”

“Mm-hmm.” The Little Snake nodded her head vigorously with a smile. She walked over to Ah Wan, lifting her head to look at her, and answered truthfully, “Snakey wants to. Doesn’t Human want to?”

“Oh.” Ah Wan listened, then casually placed the bowl on the table with a crisp clatter. She sat down and replied with a hint of anger, “I don’t need to, and I don’t want to.”

After a pause, she added, “Don’t forget you still owe me money. Before you finish paying it back, you’re not allowed to go anywhere.”

The Little Snake didn’t detect the resentment in her words. She padded over, softly pressing against Ah Wan as she sat down, rubbing her head against her shoulder. In a good-natured voice, she replied, “I know.”

Ah Wan ignored her, scooping up the congee with her spoon.

“Ah~” The Little Snake leaned in first and took a bite, chewing with her eyes narrowed as if it were delicious.

Ah Wan frowned and looked down at her, letting out a cold scoff. She scooped another spoonful, deliberately moving slowly as she held it out, waiting for her.

Sure enough, the Little Snake leaned in to eat again. Ah Wan instantly moved the spoon away.

“Ah!”

Instead of congee, her two tiny venomous fangs struck the spoon, producing a crisp sound.

The Little Snake immediately covered her mouth and whined in pain.

Ah Wan panicked. She tossed the spoon aside and turned, cupping the Little Snake’s face. “Let me see.”

The Little Snake hesitated briefly, then slowly lowered her hands. Tilting her head up, she opened her mouth wide.

Ah Wan bent down to carefully inspect, using her fingers to feel.

“Nothing serious.” She breathed a sigh of relief. As she looked up again, she saw the Little Snake staring intently at her.

Ah Wan: “What is it?”

The Little Snake closed her mouth and pointed at the two small scars on the side of Ah Wan’s neck. “Here.”

Then she pointed at her own fangs and asked softly, “Were those bitten by Snakey’s teeth?”

“Mhm.”

After Ah Wan answered, she reached up to pull her collar higher to hide them. But it slipped back down immediately, making the cover-up all the more obvious.

Hearing the confirmation, the Little Snake frowned, mimicking Ah Wan, a pained expression appearing on her face.

Then she stuck out her tongue and quickly darted it against those two tiny scars, pink as moles.

“Do they still hurt?”

The Little Snake asked, unexpectedly.

“No…” Ah Wan paused. Could snakes care for people? After a thought, she suddenly changed her words. “Sometimes they hurt.”

“Use medicine?” The Little Snake pointed at her neck. As if fearing Ah Wan wouldn’t understand, she touched the same spot on her own neck.

She knew this human was formidable, having many, many medicines.

Ah Wan looked at her, and on an inexplicable impulse, told a lie that ruined her own reputation. “Medicine doesn’t work.”

She then lowered her eyes, her slender fingers gently stroking the side of her neck. Her voice was airy. “This place often aches.”

Often.

Sometimes.

Two clearly opposite words.

Ah Wan was thankful the Little Snake didn’t know the subtleties involved.

The Little Snake believed her. She tugged at her hand, anxiously asking, “Then what do we do?”

“It should be…” Ah Wan lowered her head to hide the upturn of her lips. Her voice remained flat, betraying nothing unusual. But in reality, she was speaking nonsense like a madwoman. “The one who tied the bell must untie it.”