Compensation

"Have pity on me, young miss."

It was the weekend, and plenty of people had come to hike. They crowded into the little shop, filling it with noise. He Zhiwen's voice was easy to recognize. When she wasn't teaching, she was always smiling, bright and lively—a completely different person from the one she was in class.

Seeing Xing Yue's gaze fixed on the little daisies pinned to her hat, she reached up and touched them. Then she took the cluster of flowers off, held it in her palm, and lowered her hand to her side as though nothing had happened.

Xing Yue's face betrayed little, but her gaze was dark. "Not yet. Maybe Madam Bu will help me once things between the young miss and me have settled down."

Now that she knew Madam Bu truly hadn't helped Xing Yue with her tail, He Zhiwen hurried over, stumbling even across those few steps. "Madam Bu didn't come to you three years ago? Why would she still be waiting..."

It had been exactly three years since they broke up.

"No," Xing Yue answered evenly. "Why?"

Three years ago, Madam Bu had approached He Zhiwen and told her to leave Xing Yue, promising to heal Xing Yue's tail. If He Zhiwen hesitated any longer, Xing Yue would be in a wheelchair within a few years.

Yet after forcing He Zhiwen away, Madam Bu had never contacted Xing Yue in all three years. She had ignored her entirely. Even the slight chance that she might help Xing Yue now was only thanks to Bu Yao. He Zhiwen had given up her place for Bu Yao.

He Zhiwen shook her head desperately, unable to tell her the truth. She tried to force a smile, but it looked worse than crying. "I... I... Let's have a meal sometime."

They sounded like strangers who barely knew each other, exchanging polite pleasantries.

Xing Yue was silent for several seconds before saying lightly, "Sure. I heard you got married? You've always had good taste in people. You must be very happy."

That sounded a little like she was praising herself. Xing Yue couldn't help smiling, and her teasing tone made He Zhiwen feel a little better.

"She... I..."

Before He Zhiwen could finish, Xing Yue raised the water she had just bought and said in a rush, "Mm, good. That's good, then. Really good... I should go. We'll talk later."

She didn't linger. Once outside the shop, she walked quickly, the easy, languid look vanishing from her face the moment she turned away.

Bu Yao was resting in a pavilion. Her feet were tired, so she had stretched out her legs, and a little fan hung around her neck. Before she could even make out Xing Yue's face, she was yanked to her feet and practically dragged out of the pavilion.

"Xing Yue!" Startled, she lost a shoe. Her beige cotton sock landed on the ground and became caked with mud. "Have you lost your mind?"

Xing Yue had nearly pulled her arm out of its socket.

Xing Yue acted as though she couldn't hear. Ignoring the people watching them, she dragged Bu Yao behind a deserted part of the mountain, then flung her hand away. Bu Yao fell straight into the bushes.

"Ah—"

Bu Yao cried out in pain. Branches and leaves scratched her all over, and her palm struck a rock, scraping away a patch of skin. She clutched her wrist, not daring to touch the raw spot. She trembled with pain and didn't even have the strength to curse Xing Yue.

"Your mother's really something. She drove away my girlfriend of seven years and fooled her completely." Xing Yue's face was dark, her expression frighteningly cold, as though she might do something terrible at any moment.

She hadn't dared spell it out to He Zhiwen. She could only play dumb and pretend she hadn't noticed. He Zhiwen clearly hadn't wanted her to know, afraid she would feel guilty. The truth was too cruel. No one had come out of it unhurt.

Bu Yao braced herself against a nearby rock and struggled out of the bushes. Scratches from branches covered her neck, ears, and cheeks, and one of her hands was still bleeding.

At first, she had only been angry that Xing Yue had manhandled her. But when Xing Yue brought up her ex-girlfriend, that anger turned to scorn.

Smack! With her uninjured hand, Bu Yao slapped Xing Yue without holding back. "Who do you think you are? Why would my mother waste her time on your messy love life? What kind of person do you take her for? You think she tricked your ex-girlfriend? Set a trap for her? What makes you, Xing Yue, so important that my family would go to all that trouble over your problems? Stop trying to smear my mother."

To Bu Yao, Madam Bu had always been the picture of gentleness and grace. She gave Bu Yao anything she asked for and could do anything. Bu Yao loved her mother. How could she let Xing Yue make accusations like that?

Everyone in business and politics knew Madam Bu as a courageous, resourceful, and highly respected figure. It was hard to believe she would do such things behind the scenes.

But Madam Bu had done exactly that, more than once. She had often warned Xing Yue off and used petty tricks to make things difficult for her.

"Hahahaha!" Xing Yue burst out laughing as though she had heard the greatest joke in the world. She laughed so hard she doubled over, her eyes bloodshot despite her lack of tear glands. "Yes, yes. Your family's upright and noble. I should light three sticks of incense in thanks for the privilege of carrying your shoes."

They had dated for seven years. Xing Yue had twelve thousand photos of He Zhiwen on her phone—four or five taken each day on average. They had spent seven Valentine's Days together and reached the point of discussing marriage. Yet Bu Yao called her a messy love affair.

They had pretended that after breaking up, each was doing fine and the other would be too. That thin screen had already torn, but He Zhiwen had kept patching the holes, afraid Xing Yue would be hurt. He Zhiwen hadn't said a word, and Xing Yue hadn't dared to either.

Xing Yue's heart was bleeding.

Bu Yao could guess that Xing Yue had either seen her ex or heard something from someone else. Either way, Xing Yue's reaction infuriated her.

"What's with the sarcasm?" she demanded, lifting her chin.

Fifteen minutes ago, she had still been sitting in the pavilion, wondering whether she had gained weight over the past two days and whether Xing Yue would be able to carry her on her back. Now, barely fifteen minutes later, Xing Yue looked ready to strangle her.

Bu Yao's face turned cold, though her eyes stung. She said firmly, "If you have so much pride, stop working with New Shadow Entertainment. Terminate your contract. You're old enough to know better than to put up with this just to make money. It's pitiful."

She simply couldn't stand Xing Yue getting angry with her over an ex-girlfriend.

But when Xing Yue said nothing and kept that faint, mocking smile on her face, Bu Yao seemed to sense what was coming. Panic rose in her for no reason she could name.

She had wanted to change for the better. Xing Yue just kept provoking her.

Bu Yao caught hold of Xing Yue and said without preamble, "I stopped taking my medication these past few days. My moods have been a little unstable..."

Xing Yue pulled her hand away and headed down the mountain alone.

Bu Yao followed. She had fallen hard and was still barefoot on one side, her foot covered in mud. Pebbles dug painfully into her sole. She had gone only a few steps before she fell, a bedraggled mess.

"Xing Yue!" She tried to get up, but her calf trembled and she fell again. Watching Xing Yue's figure recede, she cried out in panic, "Xing Yue, don't go. You said you'd carry me... Don't leave me here... Xing Yue..."

"Do you think you're the only one hurting? You dragged me away in front of all those tourists. Did you think about how I felt?"

"Xing Yue..."

＊

The sky had been clear all day, but by nightfall the weather in Silent City had turned. Rain roared down like a waterfall, as though a piece of the sky had collapsed.

At home, Xing Yue went through property deeds, savings books, bank cards, and the designer bags and jewelry she could sell, adding up everything she owned except the apartment she had bought for Xing Yingnuan.

Even if she sold everything, she would still have to borrow more than six hundred thousand to pay off the penalty for breaking her contract.

Meeting Bu Yao would leave her with nothing and a mountain of debt. Irritated, Xing Yue swept the things she had gathered off the table. She had already drafted a contract termination notice on her phone, but she couldn't bring herself to send it.

Her mother's hair was already going gray. Xing Yue couldn't sell the apartment her mother would need in retirement over her own problems.

She couldn't swallow her anger, but she couldn't change the situation either. The pressure was crushing her.

Just then, Bo Wuxue sent her several messages: [Holy shit. Have you seen the news? A woman was raped, murdered, and dismembered on Carp Mountain a couple of days ago. It only came out today.]

[That's the mountain you went hiking on. They haven't caught the killer yet. He might still be hiding up there. You're back now, right? Don't go there again. It's terrifying.]

[Reply as soon as you see this.]

Xing Yue's pupils contracted. She sent Bo Wuxue a quick [1], then called Uncle Li from memory.

The call connected, but the person who answered wasn't Uncle Li. It was an unfamiliar man. After all these years, Xing Yue might have remembered the number wrong, or Uncle Li might have changed his.

Xing Yue went to the window and reassured herself that Bu Yao must have gone home in such heavy rain. Even if she couldn't get back on her own, one phone call would be enough. Having a helicopter pick her up would be nothing.

Surely she wouldn't still be waiting on the mountain.

But that woman could be stubborn as hell. When she dug in her heels, Xing Yue had never met anyone who could outdo her.

Reluctantly, Xing Yue sent Bu Yao a message—

[?]

Three minutes later—

Xing Yue: [??]

She called Bu Yao, only to hear a cold recorded voice: [Sorry, the number you have dialed is switched off.]

Xing Yue's thoughts were a mess. No matter how much she disliked Bu Yao, she didn't want anything to happen to her—especially when Xing Yue had been the one to bring her up the mountain.

Without even changing her shoes, she grabbed an umbrella and headed out. She pulled open the front door and had barely taken half a step when something caught her leg.

Xing Yue looked down. A drenched woman was asleep against her doorframe.

She had no idea when Bu Yao had returned. She wore a shoe on one foot and none on the other. She was soaked through, her heavy clothes clinging to her, all covered in mud.

Nearly every patch of exposed skin bore scratches from branches. Her left hand was raw, oozing pus and inflamed. Dirt and sand were mixed into the torn flesh, practically embedded in it. The sight was shocking.

Xing Yue nudged Bu Yao gently with her foot. Only when Bu Yao showed signs of waking did she say, "Come in."

Bu Yao opened her bleary eyes, still dazed. Once she understood what Xing Yue had said, her eyes brightened. She slowly got up and limped inside.

"Now," Xing Yue said, holding out her phone with a blank expression, "call Uncle Li and have him pick you up. Or call your mother. Hurry."

Xing Yue didn't know how long Bu Yao had slept outside. Her lips had turned white from the cold, and water still dripped from her clothes. Seeming cold, she drew her feet onto the sofa and curled up.

Even her voice shook. "My mother and I had a... a fight. I ran away from home. I have nowhere to go."

Xing Yue gave a short laugh. "Oh, no. How could the young miss fight with Madam Bu at a time like this? I'm counting on you to become a superstar so I can keep swallowing my pride and make a fortune. Have pity on me, young miss. Make up with Madam Bu."

She couldn't go home and had no money on her? Couldn't she stay at a hotel? Why did she have to sleep here, of all places?

Bu Yao didn't argue with Xing Yue's barbs. While sitting in a daze on the mountain, she had called her mother to confirm what had happened. The answer had led to a fierce argument. Her phone had died, and she was still reeling. It was not an easy thing to accept.

"Xing Yue, my mother said she won't interfere in your personal life again."

After an entire day, that was all she had to show for it? Xing Yue felt insulted. "That's it?"

Bu Yao saw the property deeds and bank cards scattered across the floor and lowered her eyes. "I'll make it up to you..."

The words were so empty that Xing Yue's anger finally boiled over. They had casually destroyed the rest of her life, then offered a halfhearted promise to settle the matter. Was her future worth so little?

Her chest heaving, she pulled Bu Yao down onto the sofa, pinned her with one knee, and gripped her festering hand. Her thumb dug into the wound.

Looking down at her, Xing Yue asked viciously, "Really? If I called out my ex-girlfriend's name when we did it, would the young miss be willing to give me that too?"

Bu Yao froze. Her pale face turned even whiter. Whether from the pain in her hand or something else, tears poured from her eyes, and she shook her head wildly.

She had cried enough on the mountain that even blinking stung. Crying again now, she looked as though her eyes might dissolve.

With her free hand, Xing Yue pinched Bu Yao's cheeks around her soft lips, keeping her from crying aloud. Her gaze was dark. "Didn't the young miss say she'd make it up to me? If you can't even do this little thing, how will you make it up to me?"

What could Bu Yao do? She couldn't even put on her own shoes. Forget making it up to Xing Yue—Xing Yue would be lucky if Bu Yao asked her to wait on her less often.

The heat coming off Bu Yao's hand was far beyond normal, even hotter than Fire Snake's body temperature. She had probably gotten sick from the rain. Her ruby-red eyes were full of tears that seemed endless, spilling over every second.

Xing Yue shut her eyes hard and let Bu Yao go. She left the sofa, found a bottle of antiseptic and some sterile gauze, then popped out a fever-reducing pill and set it on the table.

Then she turned and went upstairs.

"I'm still angry. You'd better not make a sound. Annoy me, and you can keep the house. I'll leave."

She meant it as a warning, but her words were less fierce than the thunderstorm outside.

Night deepened, and the house fell quiet.

Xing Yue lay in bed, tossing and turning. Bu Yao really hadn't made a sound. It was past midnight. Wasn't she coming up to shower? Even if she didn't shower, shouldn't she change her clothes and dry her hair? Had the fever fried her brain?

Xing Yue couldn't settle down. Then another thought struck her: did Bu Yao even know how to use gauze? Did she know she had to clean the wound before applying antiseptic? What if she didn't? The wound could get infected, and if it got bad enough, she could lose the hand.

She could barely take care of herself as it was. Losing a hand would make things even more troublesome.

Feeling thoroughly vexed, Xing Yue took a glass downstairs. She turned into the kitchen, filled it with water, then walked into the living room as she drank.

Bu Yao was curled up on the sofa. Her coat lay beside her, and she wore only a white camisole. It was still wet, revealing the exact shape of the bra beneath it: a three-quarter-cup V, with a glimpse of cleavage.

Her breathing was a little heavy from the chill she had caught. The medicine had put her into a deep sleep.

Xing Yue reached over to check her temperature. Her fever seemed to have gone down. Then Xing Yue lifted a handful of her wet hair.

Xing Yue shook her awake. "Go dry your hair. You've soaked my sofa. Do you know how expensive it is?"

Bu Yao was groggy. She opened her eyes halfway, sat up, and stared blankly for two seconds. Then, as though a program had finally started running, she stumbled upstairs in a daze, still holding a sofa cushion.

By the time Xing Yue went up to check, Bu Yao had made herself at home in her bed. She had dried her hair, but her clothes were still wet.

Angry and helpless, Xing Yue pulled her up. "Don't expect me to wait on you. Change your clothes."

Bu Yao was limp all over. Her cold must have been making her miserable; her thoughts seemed sluggish, and every response came a beat late.

She gripped the hem of her camisole with both hands and began pulling it up right in front of Xing Yue. She moved slowly and had to tug several times because she had so little strength.

It happened so suddenly that Xing Yue didn't know where to look. Her mind told her to look away, but her gaze stayed fixed in place.

Bu Yao dropped the camisole on the floor and knelt in the bedding. She crawled toward the middle of the bed on her knees, her fiery red hair falling against her delicate, snow-white skin.

Standing at the foot of the bed, Xing Yue took in the entire sight. She steadied her breathing and patted the bedding. "Get down. Did I say you could sleep in my bed?"

The woman's voice was drowsy. "Didn't you want compensation? What you asked for... I'll do it."

She tried to sound languid, but Xing Yue still heard the tremor in her voice.

Bu Yao was gambling. She was betting that Xing Yue wasn't that kind of person. There were plenty of ways to hate her and hurt her, but Xing Yue wouldn't do that. Yet Bu Yao was afraid she had bet wrong, and the tremor in her voice gave her away.

That implied distrust made Xing Yue laugh coldly. "Do you really think I'm that noble?"