Compensation

"Have mercy 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 chatter. He Zhiwen's voice was easy to pick out. When she wasn't teaching, she was always smiling, bright and lively—nothing like the person she was in class.

Seeing Xing Yue stare at the daisies on her hat, she reached up and touched them. She plucked the little cluster of flowers off, closed her hand around it, then casually lowered her arm to her side.

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

Now that He Zhiwen knew Madam Bu truly hadn't helped Xing Yue with her tail, she hurried over, stumbling even across those few steps. "Madam Bu never came to you three years ago? Why does she still have to wait..."

They had broken up exactly three years ago.

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

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

But after forcing He Zhiwen away, Madam Bu hadn't approached Xing Yue once in the past three years. She hadn't shown the slightest concern for her. Even now, the only hint that she might help Xing Yue was thanks to Bu Yao. He Zhiwen had cleared the way for Bu Yao.

He Zhiwen shook her head desperately. She couldn't bring herself to tell Xing Yue the truth. She tried to smile, but her expression looked worse than if she'd cried. "I... I... Let's have dinner sometime."

They spoke 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 lifted the water she'd just bought and said in a rush, "Mm, good. That's good, then... I should go. Talk later."

She didn't linger. After leaving the shop, she walked quickly away. The moment she turned around, the relaxed, languid look on her face vanished.

Bu Yao was resting in the pavilion. Her feet were a little tired, so she had stretched out her legs, a little portable fan still hanging around her neck. Before she could get a clear look at Xing Yue's face, Xing Yue yanked her up and practically dragged her out of the pavilion.

"Xing Yue!" Startled, she lost a shoe. Her beige cotton sock landed in the dirt and was soon covered in mud. "Have you lost your mind?"

Xing Yue nearly pulled her arm out of its socket.

As if she couldn't hear a word, Xing Yue ignored the looks they drew and dragged Bu Yao behind an unoccupied part of the mountain. She let go with a shove, sending Bu Yao straight into the bushes.

"Ah—"

Bu Yao cried out in pain. Branches scratched and stabbed at her, and her palm struck a rock, scraping a patch of skin clean off. She held her wrist, afraid to touch the raw spot. She was trembling so badly from the pain that she 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 and terrifying, as though she might do something dreadful at any moment.

She hadn't dared speak plainly to He Zhiwen. All she could do was play dumb and pretend she hadn't noticed. He Zhiwen surely didn't want her to know, afraid she would feel guilty. The truth was too cruel. No one had come out of it unhurt.

Bracing herself against a rock, Bu Yao struggled out of the bushes. Scratches covered her neck, ears, and cheeks, and one hand was still bleeding.

A moment ago, she had simply been angry that Xing Yue had manhandled her. But once Xing Yue brought up her ex-girlfriend, that anger turned into cold derision.

Smack! With her uninjured hand, Bu Yao slapped Xing Yue without holding back. "Who do you think you are? Since when does my mother have time to meddle in 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 so special, Xing Yue? Why would our family go to all that trouble over your problems? Stop dragging my mother's name through the mud."

To Bu Yao, Madam Bu had always been the picture of warmth and grace. She gave Bu Yao whatever she asked for and could do anything. Bu Yao loved her mother. How could she stand by while Xing Yue made accusations like that?

Everyone in business and politics knew Madam Bu as a brave, shrewd, and widely respected powerhouse. It was hard to believe she would do such a thing in secret.

But Madam Bu had done exactly that, more than once or twice. She often warned Xing Yue off and used petty tricks to humiliate her.

"Hahahaha!" Xing Yue burst out laughing as if she'd heard the funniest joke in the world. She laughed so hard she doubled over. Without tear glands, the membranes of her eyes turned bloodshot. "Right, right. Your family's honest and noble. I should burn three sticks of incense in thanks just for the honor of carrying your shoes."

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

The pretense that they were both doing well after the breakup had fallen apart. Even with the truth exposed, He Zhiwen had tried desperately to patch it back together, afraid Xing Yue would be hurt. She hadn't said it aloud, 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 lifted her chin.

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

Bu Yao's face went cold, though her eyes stung. She spoke harshly. "If you've got so much pride, don't work with New Shadow Entertainment. You can terminate your contract. It's pitiful, really, watching you put up with all this just to make money at your age."

She couldn't bear Xing Yue snapping at her over an ex-girlfriend.

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

She had wanted to be better. Xing Yue just kept provoking her.

Bu Yao caught Xing Yue's arm and blurted out, "I stopped taking my medication these past few days. My emotions have been a little unstable..."

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

Bu Yao followed. She had taken a hard fall and was barefoot on one side, her foot caked in mud. Pebbles dug painfully into her sole. She hadn't gone far before she fell, miserable and disheveled.

"Xing Yue!" She tried to get up, but her calf shook and she fell again. Watching Xing Yue grow farther away, 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 who's hurting? You dragged me off in front of all those tourists. Did you ever 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 thundered down as if the sky had collapsed, pouring like a waterfall.

At home, Xing Yue gathered her property deeds, bankbooks, bank cards, designer bags, and jewelry—anything she could sell—and calculated the value of everything she owned. She included it all except the apartment she had bought for Xing Yingnuan.

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

Meeting Bu Yao had left her with nothing and saddled her with a mountain of debt. Frustrated, Xing Yue swept everything she'd laid out off the table. She had already drafted a termination notice on her phone, but she couldn't bring herself to send it.

Her mother's hair had gone gray. Xing Yue couldn't sell the home her mother would live in during retirement over her own troubles.

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

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

[That's the mountain you went hiking on. They still haven't caught the killer. He might even 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 Housekeeper Li from memory.

The call connected, but the person who answered was a man she didn't recognize. After so many years, she might have remembered the number wrong, or Housekeeper Li might have changed his number.

Xing Yue walked to the window and tried to reassure herself. With rain this heavy, Bu Yao must have gone home. Even if she couldn't make it back alone, all she had to do was call. Sending a helicopter to pick her up would be nothing to her family.

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

But that woman could be stubborn as hell. When Bu Yao dug her heels in, Xing Yue had never met another woman who could match 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 she was the one who had asked Bu Yao to come up the mountain.

She grabbed an umbrella and rushed out without changing her shoes. She pulled open the front door, but the moment she took a step, 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. One foot had a shoe on; the other was bare. She was soaked through, her clothes heavy, clammy, and covered in mud.

Almost every patch of exposed skin bore scratches from branches. Her left hand had festered and become inflamed, pus seeping from the wound. The torn flesh was mixed with dirt that had nearly become embedded in it. It was a horrifying sight.

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 sleepy eyes, looking dazed. Once she understood what Xing Yue had said, her eyes brightened a little. She slowly got up and limped inside.

"Now," Xing Yue said, handing her a phone without expression, "call Uncle Li and tell him to pick you up. Or call your mother. Hurry."

Who knew how long Bu Yao had been asleep outside? Her lips had gone white from the cold, and water was still dripping off her. She seemed chilled. She drew her feet onto the sofa and curled up.

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

Xing Yue gave a short, humorless 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. I still have to swallow my pride and make a fortune. Have mercy on me, young miss, and make up with Madam Bu."

She couldn't go home, and she had no money on her? Couldn't she stay in a hotel? Why did she insist on sleeping here just to make Xing Yue uncomfortable?

Bu Yao didn't argue with Xing Yue's barbs. While she had sat in a daze on the mountain, she'd called her mother to ask if it was true. Her mother's answer had led to a huge fight, one that had drained her phone battery. She was still dazed. It wasn't something she could easily accept.

"Xing Yue, my mom said she'll never interfere in your private life again."

A whole day, and that was the result? Xing Yue felt insulted. "That's it?"

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

The words rang painfully hollow, and Xing Yue's anger finally boiled over. They had casually destroyed the rest of her life, only to brush it aside with a few perfunctory words. Was her future worth so little?

Her chest heaving, she pulled Bu Yao down onto the sofa. She pressed a knee against her and gripped her festering hand, digging her thumb into the wound.

Looking down at her, Xing Yue asked cruelly, "Really? If I call out my ex-girlfriend's name while we're doing it, can the young miss give me that, too?"

Bu Yao froze. Her already pale face went whiter. Whether it was the pain in her hand or something else, tears poured from her eyes as she shook her head frantically.

She had already cried so much on the mountain that even blinking hurt. Now, as she cried again, it felt as though her eyes might dissolve.

Xing Yue gripped her cheeks with her other hand, pinching either side of her soft lips to keep her from crying aloud. Her gaze darkened. "Didn't you say you'd make it up to me, young miss? If you can't even do this much, how are you going to compensate me?"

What could Bu Yao do, anyway? She couldn't even put her own shoes on. Forget making it up to Xing Yue—she'd be doing well if she demanded a little less care from her.

Heat radiated from Bu Yao's hand, far beyond any normal temperature, even hotter than Fire Snake's body. She was probably sick from the rain. Those ruby eyes brimmed with tears that seemed endless, spilling over every second.

Xing Yue squeezed her eyes shut and released Bu Yao. She stepped away from the sofa, found a bottle of antiseptic and some sterile gauze, then pushed a fever tablet out of its blister pack and set them on the table.

Then she turned and went upstairs.

"I'm still angry. You'd better not make a sound. If you get on my nerves, you can keep the house. I'll leave."

She meant it as a warning, but her voice was less fierce than the storm outside.

Late that night, the house was quiet.

Xing Yue tossed and turned in bed. Bu Yao really hadn't made a sound. It was well past midnight. Wasn't she coming upstairs 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 occurred to 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 become infected. In a severe case, she might need an amputation.

She already couldn't take care of herself. Losing a hand would only make things worse.

Xing Yue was so troubled she took a cup downstairs. She turned into the kitchen, filled it with water, then walked into the living room, drinking as she went.

Bu Yao was curled up on the sofa, her coat set aside. She wore only a white camisole, still wet. The cut of her bra was plainly visible beneath it, its three-quarter V shape offering a glimpse of cleavage.

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

Xing Yue went over and felt her forehead. Her fever seemed to have gone down. Then Xing Yue lifted a strand of her wet hair.

She shook Bu Yao awake. "Go dry your hair. You've soaked my sofa. Do you have any idea how expensive this set is?"

Bu Yao was groggy. She opened her eyes halfway, sat staring blankly for two seconds, then seemed to come to life. Still dazed, she stumbled upstairs with a sofa cushion in her arms.

By the time Xing Yue went up to check, Bu Yao had invited herself into bed. She had dried her hair, at least, 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, probably miserable with her cold. Her mind was sluggish, and every reaction came a beat late.

She gripped the hem of her camisole with both hands and pulled it up right in front of Xing Yue. She moved slowly, tugging several times because she barely had the strength.

It happened so suddenly that Xing Yue didn't know where to look. Her brain told her to look away, but her gaze fixed in one place and refused to move.

Bu Yao dropped the little camisole on the floor. Kneeling among the covers, she crawled toward the middle of the bed. Her fiery red hair spilled over her snow-pale skin, making her look impossibly delicate.

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

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

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

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

That unspoken test drew a cold laugh from Xing Yue. "Do you really think I'm that noble?"