Damn It

Why didn't you ask how I was?

The heavy darkness of night stretched without end, surging in from every side.

It was past three in the morning. Xing Yue lay in bed, tossing and turning, her calves resting on the cool silk quilt and shifting restlessly.

Perhaps it was her age, but she often felt lonely. After what had happened with Bu Yao last night had eased that loneliness, the emptiness that followed was even harder to bear.

She sighed soundlessly, got out of bed, and drank a glass of ice water. Then she leaned against the refrigerator, slid down to the floor, and sat with her knees drawn up.

Maybe I should find a woman whose circumstances are about the same as mine and get married...

Xing Yue thought about it alone.

First, though, she had to deal with that little troublemaker Bu Yao. Otherwise, she would never be in the right state of mind to go on a blind date.

The next day, Xing Yue left her car at home and, for once, took the subway to work. Miss Bu might not care about the little money she had, but there was no telling whether Bu Yao would take revenge by leaving her with nothing. Better to keep a low profile for a while.

At a time like this, taking the subway made Xing Yue feel safer.

It was rush hour, and she was crammed into a carriage with a crowd of people. She wished she hadn't worn heels; she could barely keep her balance, and irritation began to rise in her.

When the train stopped at a station, Xing Yue lurched forward. The person directly in front of her was getting off and disappeared with the crowd, while passengers behind her pressed toward the doors. With nothing to hold on to, she stumbled two steps and bumped into someone's back.

"Sorry..." Xing Yue blurted out.

The first thing she saw was a high ponytail of voluminous red curls. The hair was stunning, like the orange-red trail a plane left across the sky at sunset.

Xing Yue's eyes lit up. The woman stood with her back to her, wearing a vintage white linen-and-cotton blouse and a wisteria-blue horse-face skirt embroidered with camellias in black and gold thread. The outfit showed off her proportions perfectly.

From this angle, the woman had a slender back, a straight waist, and delicate, pale shoulders and neck. Even from behind, she was striking—a poised, cool little lady.

After looking for a couple of seconds, Xing Yue silently offered a few words of praise. Then the woman turned around. The moment Xing Yue saw that face, at once familiar and strange, her expression grew complicated.

"..."

Bu Yao had always been shorter than Xing Yue, and with Xing Yue in heels today, the difference was even greater. Bu Yao tilted her face up slightly. "It's all right."

Embarrassed, Xing Yue grabbed a nearby handrail, her thoughts in disarray. Why was Bu Yao here? How had she run into her on the subway of all places? Miss Bu had to have arranged this on purpose. It was a trap!

They had been apart for ten years, so it was only natural that Xing Yue hadn't recognized her from behind. Still, remembering how highly she had praised Bu Yao in her head made her feel awkward. If she had known whose back it was, she never would have thought that way.

To Xing Yue, Bu Yao was a hot-tempered, spoiled, unreasonable rich young lady. Sometimes she was downright wicked—a thoroughly obnoxious little troublemaker, a drama queen, a little devil.

"Is Uncle Li doing well?" Xing Yue asked, making conversation.

As Xing Yue recalled, the Bu family had a dedicated driver. But Bu Yao had a bad temper, and many of the household staff were afraid of her, so it was usually Uncle Li who drove her when she went out.

Xing Yue assumed Uncle Li was ill, and that Bu Yao had taken the subway because she wouldn't let anyone else drive her and didn't want to drive herself.

At the question, Bu Yao turned her face slightly and said softly, "Why didn't you ask how I was?"

Xing Yue couldn't stand it when Bu Yao acted like this. She tilted her head and looked at her like a puppy, even using that tone of voice—as though Xing Yue had wronged her terribly by making small talk about a butler instead of asking after the woman she had been intimate with only last night.

The Bu Yao Xing Yue remembered would have glared and shouted, "Don't you dare care about anyone else! What business are they of yours? Bitch! Don't ask! Don't even mention them!"

The things Bu Yao had said to her most often were—

Don't! You're not allowed! You can't! I won't let you!

Xing Yue didn't know what had changed. Ten years was enough to transform a person completely, but she still couldn't shake the feeling that Miss Bu was plotting something and waiting for her to walk into it.

"Miss Bu, are you feeling any better?" Xing Yue asked, following her lead.

It was formal and polite, barely more sincere than her earlier small talk.

Bu Yao suddenly raised a hand and nudged Xing Yue's rimless glasses with her index finger. The bump had knocked them crooked. She straightened them with an ease that made the gesture seem natural.

Anyone who saw such an intimate gesture might have thought they had been married for over a decade.

Xing Yue's expression grew even stiffer.

The train stopped at another station. As people came and went, Bu Yao took a small step closer. She didn't touch Xing Yue, leaving a sliver of space between them.

She caught the fabric at Xing Yue's waist and whispered shyly, too softly for anyone else to hear, "Not really. The ointment doesn't seem to be helping. It itches, and I can't let hot water touch it anymore."

Fire Snakes generated their own heat. Their body temperature was naturally higher than that of other snakes, and they were drawn to warmth. Not being able to soak in hot water was hard for Bu Yao.

Hot water would make the irritated skin itch and sting even more.

"I'm sorry..." Xing Yue said in a low voice, guilt weighing on her words.

She hadn't known Bu Yao was allergic to latex, but ignorance didn't change the fact that it was her fault. She made no excuses and apologized sincerely.

To indulge her own tastes, she had even gone out of her way to buy textured finger cots. They caused more friction... Damn it, she was awful!

A sudden warmth pressed against her. Bu Yao rested her forehead against Xing Yue's chest and asked, "Xing Yue, could you take me to the hospital?"