Rumor had it that Manhattan’s most elusive billionaire heir had the stamina of an absolute god. My sister and I decided to take turns being his girlfriend, cultivating our magic by absorbing his excess vitality through physical intimacy. One day, this gorgeous heir asked my sister: "What are snakes most afraid of? Arsenic or sulfur?" I thought our cover was blown. I immediately packed our bags, faked our deaths that very night, and dragged my sister running back to the deep woods where we belong. In the middle of the night, from my fresh grave, I smelled the heavenly scent of fried chicken. I popped my head out of the dirt for a bite. Behind me, two cold chuckles rang out. I turned to see two identical, impossibly handsome men staring down at me, their gazes icy. One said, "Bro, which one is this? I honestly can't tell them apart." The other smirked and said, "That one is mine. Just last night, she told me that when she died, I better leave an entire Popeyes family meal combo on her grave." 01 My name is Tessa. Half a year ago, my sister Sienna and I realized our magical cultivation was too weak to maintain our human forms for long periods. So, we hunted down a high-quality human male—Weston Sinclair, the golden boy of New York high society—to dual-cultivate with and boost our magic. Mon-Wed-Fri: I cultivated with him. Tue-Thu-Sat: Sienna did. Sundays were Weston's days off. We would feed him raw oyster shooters, maca root, and premium protein smoothies to help him recharge. To avoid blowing our cover, we used a shared fake name around him: Tessie. I have to admit. Weston was truly built different. Unlike traditional men who needed a cooldown period, he was ready to go all day, every day. Him! I’d use him in the morning! My sister would use him in the afternoon! I’d use him again before dinner, and my sister would take the night shift! One man doing the work of four. And, he was incredibly generous. If Sienna or I lingered our gaze on a designer bag for even a second, or casually mentioned liking something... By the next morning, it would be delivered to our penthouse. In just six months, our bank account balance had hit eight figures. We had so many luxury goods we didn't know what to do with them. Cartier bracelets, solid gold bangles... they were practically spilling out of our closets. Sometimes, when Weston wasn't around, I’d turn back into my snake form. I'd slither right through them. Playing ring toss. Wearing ten diamond bracelets at once, looking absolutely fabulous. I made Sienna take pictures and post them on my Instagram Close Friends story. The other wild snakes were dying of jealousy: [Tessa! Who's your sugar daddy?! You’re living the absolute dream!] Of course, Weston was blocked from seeing those stories. 02 Today was Saturday. I had bought us VIP tickets for an exclusive hot pot place downtown. I was just waiting for Sienna to get home so we could head out. Finally, she walked through the door. I grabbed my Prada bag, eager to leave. But she looked pale. Terrified, even. I asked, "What’s wrong, sis? You look like you've seen a ghost." Sienna practically ripped open the fridge, grabbed a chilled coconut water, and chugged the entire thing. Once she caught her breath, she said: "Tessa, guess what Weston asked me today?" I thought about it. "Did he ask if we wanted a yacht? A few days ago I told him I wanted a private yacht off the coast of Monaco to watch the night skyline. He nodded and said he'd arrange it." Sienna shook her head frantically. "No! I wish it was that..." She took a deep breath, still looking traumatized. "He asked me, what are snakes most afraid of? Arsenic or sulfur? "Oh my god, Tessa, you have no idea. At the time, I was so excited. I was unboxing this new leather whip I bought online, fantasizing about how I was going to use it on him. "And then he drops that question! It killed the mood instantly. "Then, he looks at me all confused and asks, 'Mommy, why aren't you whipping me?'" I fell completely silent. "He called you Mommy? "And told you to whip him?" Sienna gave me a weird look. "No, Tessa, your priorities are totally messed up right now. "Shouldn't the focal point be that our identities are compromised?! Shouldn't we be packing our bags to flee the state?!" I looked at her, dead serious. "No, Sienna, listen to me! "Last week, I playfully swatted him with an iPhone charger cable, and he..." He instantly pinned me to the mattress and tied my wrists. He leaned in and growled, "Baby, do you need to be taught another lesson?" That night, he tormented me so thoroughly I almost went to the afterlife to meet our Great-great-great-grandmother, the Serpent Goddess. Now it was Sienna's turn to be utterly bewildered. "Huh?! Weston is that aggressive with you? "I always have to initiate! He's incredibly submissive and obedient with me. "Oh my god. Does he have a split personality disorder?" I slapped my thigh in a panic. "Don't overthink it right now, sis! Let's just get to the hot pot place! The 9-to-5 crowd is about to get off work, and there's going to be a massive line!" Sienna: ? 03 Once we were safely seated at the hot pot restaurant. Sienna and I started gossiping about Weston again. The more we talked, the weirder it got. Her Weston was like a golden retriever. My Weston was like a dominant alpha wolf. What the hell was going on? I decided to make a post on Reddit to ask for advice: [What are the features of a Switch?] Helpful netizens quickly replied: [OP, do you mean the Nintendo Switch OLED or the Lite? The screens and battery life are totally different.] [Are you deciding between an Xbox and a Switch? I have both, I highly recommend the Switch.] Sienna replied from my phone: "No, guys, the switch I’m talking about isn't that kind of switch. I'm talking about that kind of switch." The internet was confused: [I don't get it. Isn't a Switch just a gaming console?] Forget it. They weren't getting it. I deleted the post. I was boiling my crab sticks when I suddenly got an iMessage from Weston: [Just finished my board meeting. What are you doing?] I reluctantly put down my half-eaten crab stick. I took a picture of the bubbling, spicy hot pot and sent it to him. The juicy beef meatballs and tofu pouches were perfectly cooked, bobbing in the chili oil. The table was covered in plates of sliced ribeye, quail eggs, shrimp paste, and veggies waiting to be tossed in. Next to my dipping sauce, I even had a massive bowl of vanilla shaved ice. Weston replied: [A meal for four? Eating so little today? Are you upset?] I bit my chopsticks, my cheeks puffing out in anger. [What are you talking about! I am not a little piglet!] I was a Hognose snake. Not a little piglet. Weston: [Apple Pay Transfer: $52,000] [Got it, little piglet. Eat up, I have to get back to work.] Looking at the glowing golden transfer notification. I couldn't help but smile, sending back a cute, obedient sticker. Sienna was curious. "Tessa, what are you grinning at?" I showed her my phone. "Weston just sent us funding! Sis, is this enough food? If not, we can order another round." Sienna froze, her boba straw slipping from her lips. "Wait. You have Weston's number?" I nodded. "Yeah. We added each other yesterday." Sienna looked shocked. "Then why did he force me to add his Snapchat today? He complained that we've been dating for six months and I never gave him my socials. "Look. See for yourself." Sienna handed me her phone. I stared at the profile picture and froze. "This is so weird, sis. Your Weston... his profile picture and username are completely different from my Weston. "Mine uses a black-and-white photo of him in a tailored suit. Yours uses an anime boy." But what truly blew my mind... Her Weston texted so much. [Mommy, Mommy, what are you doing?] [I miss you. Want cuddles. Want kisses.] [Why aren't you replying? Are you with another guy?] [What? You found another puppy?] [Is he more obedient than me? Does he love you more? I don't believe it.] [...] Whereas my Weston only ever sent: [?] [Answer the phone.] [Transfer.] [Hm.] [Busy.] [I miss you too.] Sienna and I stared at each other in absolute horror. There was no way one man could exhibit such drastically different personalities, even if we acted slightly differently around him. Half an hour later. After anxiously finishing the last slice of ribeye in the pot. I made a solemn announcement: "Sis. We need to formulate a plan. We're going to fake our deaths and run." 04 Sienna agreed with both hands and feet. We had so much money now. Building an ultra-luxurious mansion back in the deep woods of our ancestral mountain would be a piece of cake. But the problem was... How could we pull off a flawless fake death? If we just disappeared... Weston would definitely track us down. And he was incredibly petty. Once, I secretly took a sip of his protein shake. He insisted on "drinking" it back from my mouth. I told him I already swallowed it all! He still aggressively forced his way in. So I was genuinely terrified. What if he got so furious he set our ancestral forest on fire? Finally, we came up with the perfect plan. Tomorrow was the day Weston made his annual pilgrimage to the mountain temple to pray. He had already promised to take me with him. When the time came... Sienna would disguise herself as a psychic and block our path. She would point at me and prophesize that I was going to drop dead. Once we got home. I would start playing dead. Playing dead was literally what our species—the Hognose snake—did best! Weston would absolutely believe it. Once he buried me... I would dig my way out of the dirt and run! Hehe. Flawless! 05 We stayed up all night buying a psychic costume and rehearsing the script to fool Weston. Everything was ready; we just needed to execute! But I never in my wildest dreams imagined... The place Weston was going to pray... Was Whisperwood Peak. Our literal ancestral home. There was indeed a temple on that mountain. It enshrined the Serpent Goddess. My Great-great-great-great-grandmother. But... My Great-great-great-great-grandmother never actually granted human wishes. She explicitly told us she only built that temple because she wanted humans to think she was a badass. That was it. Because I felt incredibly guilty, I was unusually quiet the entire car ride up. Weston, who was busy reviewing corporate files on his iPad, glanced over at me. "You're acting strange today." I stiffened my back. "How am I strange?" Weston tapped his screen. "Normally, you can't go sixty seconds without talking. Today, you haven't spoken a single word in exactly 21 minutes and 31 seconds. "What's on your mind?" Terrified he would see the guilt written all over my face. I quickly buried my face straight into his lap. "I was just thinking about you." Weston sucked in a sharp breath. When he spoke, his tone was slightly strained. It sounded like a mix of gritted teeth and... something else. "Could you maybe not think about me while holding that specific position?" Belatedly realizing what my face was pressed against, I jerked my head up. I scrambled to the opposite corner of the backseat. Oh my god. So embarrassing. I exhaled onto the car window and drew circles on the fogged glass. I hate you, Weston. Drawing circles, drawing circles. I curse you to step in dog poop today. Ugh. 06 The weather on the mountain was terrible. A misty, freezing drizzle. Weston wanted me to wait for him at the base of the mountain. Panicking, I blurted out: "No! I have to go too!" Weston raised an eyebrow, looking at me with amusement. "Since when are you this athletic?" I marched ahead with wide strides, trying to cover up my anxiety. "I just want to hurry up and ask the Goddess to bless you, is that a crime?!" The man behind me fell silent for a moment. Then he let out a low chuckle. "Alright." Weston caught up and took my hand. For the rest of the climb, every time we hit a steep step... He would stop and carefully help me up. I lost count of how many stone steps we climbed. I was exhausted, my hands on my hips, panting heavily. Great-great-great-grandmother, please don't blame me for never visiting. You built this damn temple way, way, way too high up! Just as I lost the energy to even complain in my head. I finally... Saw Sienna. She was wearing a mystical-looking robe, tiny round sunglasses, and two fake mustache strips glued above her lip. Exactly as we rehearsed. She leaped out from the bushes, blocking our path. "Halt, young travelers!" Weston instantly pulled me behind him, his brow furrowing. Just as he was about to interrogate her. Sienna beat him to the punch. Pointing directly at me, she yelled: "I have consulted the cosmos! Tomorrow, she will... she will..." She froze mid-sentence. She forgot her lines. She turned around and started frantically digging through her wide, flowing sleeves. Clearly searching for her cheat sheet. Watching her fumble like an idiot, I was terrified Weston would see right through the act. My heart was in my throat, so I started violently fake-coughing. "Cough! Cough! Cough!" Thankfully, it worked. Weston’s attention snapped back to me, turning around to check on me. "Forget it!" Sienna, apparently pushed to her breaking point, decided to just wing it. She yelled at the top of her lungs, "Whatever! She's gonna kick the bucket tomorrow!" Hearing Sienna say that. My vision went dark. I found out later... The piece of paper she had stuffed in her sleeve wasn't her script. It was our receipt from the hot pot restaurant yesterday. She left the house in such a rush, she grabbed the wrong piece of paper. 07 Hearing her words, Weston’s entire body went rigid. He whipped his head around to yell at the "psychic," but she was already gone. She had oiled her soles and bolted, leaving nothing but a tiny speck of a silhouette retreating into the mist. Weston entirely lost his mood to pray at the temple. Without a word, he scooped me up into his arms and carried me all the way back down the mountain. On the drive back, he murmured softly to me: "Be good. Don't listen to that lunatic's nonsense." I nodded obediently, but looking up, I saw how violently tense his jawline was. Seeing him desperately trying to keep it together, a massive wave of guilt crashed over me. Was I... Was I wrong for tricking him like this? Spit, spit, spit! He literally asked if snakes were more afraid of arsenic or sulfur! Why was I feeling bad for him?! My sister's and my lives were on the line here! ... Fearing I was depressed, Weston took me to the VIP lounge of a luxury mall. He bought me a mountain of designer bags and jewelry before finally taking me home. Back at the penthouse. After my shower, I lay in bed, letting my imagination run wild. I was about to live the fabulous life of a rich, single snake! I was going to drive a Ferrari! Live in a mansion! Hire the hottest male models in the world to serve me grapes! Just thinking about it. I couldn't stop grinning. I rolled back and forth across the king-sized bed, trying to muffle my giggles. Right at that moment, Weston walked in from his study. He leaned against the doorframe, watching me. "Has anyone ever told you..." he paused. "When you do that, you look exactly like an idiot." My laughter abruptly stopped. I instantly buried myself under the duvet, leaving only my eyes peeking out to glare at him. "Hmph!" He sighed fondly, pulled back the covers, and ruffled my hair. "Not an idiot. Not an idiot." "My baby isn't an idiot at all." Alright. It was about time. Time to put on the performance of a lifetime. I clutched my stomach, instantly shifting gears, wailing with a weak, trembling voice: "It hurts!" I hyperventilated, acting like I was on the brink of my last breath. Weston was completely terrified. He panicked, leaning over and scooping me into his arms, his voice cracking: "Don't be scared, baby. We're going to the hospital right now!" I seized the opportunity to grab his collar, shaking my head weakly. "No... it's too late... Weston." I forced my breathing to sound ragged and shallow. "I think... I'm actually going to die... Before I go... can you... promise me two things?" The fake death spell was about to kick in. Once it did, all my vital signs would temporarily vanish. Not even the most advanced medical equipment would detect a pulse. Weston’s eyes instantly turned red. His arms tightened around me like a vice. "Stop talking nonsense!" I ignored him and kept going. "Weston... for the sake of everything we've shared... just do these two things for me." "First... bury me on Whisperwood Peak... the feng shui is good there." "Second..." I paused, acting as if I was using the absolute last ounce of my strength. "Can you... on my grave... leave an entire Popeyes family meal combo?" Before I even finished the sentence. The arms holding me went completely stiff. Weston froze like a statue. 08 As for what happened next. My consciousness was already fading. I vaguely remember Weston sprinting through the penthouse and down to the private garage, carrying me. Sitting in the driver's seat of the Maybach was a man wearing a black mask. His eyes and brow bone... looked 90% identical to Weston's. His gaze landed on me for a split second. "Bro, why is your face so pale? Did she actually scare you?" What? Weston had a brother?! I was dying of curiosity. But I couldn't hold on anymore. The fake death debuff was fully online. So sleepy. Time to die for a bit. Goodnight. ... I don't know how much time passed. My consciousness slowly returned. Freezing rain was hitting my snout. Achoo. So cold! I wiggled my body and realized I was already back in my little snake form. Weston's burial skills were absolute garbage! He didn't even cover my nose! And the dirt was so thin. One shake and it all fell off! I twisted twice. And successfully slithered out of my grave. Sniff sniff. Smells so good. So good. It's the smell of fried chicken! Following the scent, I slithered over. I used my snout to push open the paper bag and jammed my whole head inside. Oh my god. It was still warm. Fresh out of the fryer. I took a bite. So crispy and tender. Delicious! Amazing! I put my entire heart and soul into eating. Completely forgetting a massive flaw in the plan. The original plan was... Sienna was supposed to be waiting here to dig me out. Because after using the fake death spell... For the next 72 hours, I wouldn't be able to turn back into a human. I was incredibly vulnerable. But she was nowhere to be found. Just as I was lost in the ecstasy of fried chicken. Feeling like I was floating on cloud nine. Two cold chuckles echoed from behind me. "Heh." My body locked up. My tail curled into a tight little spiral. Trembling, I slowly poked my head out of the paper bag. Only to see two identical, impossibly handsome men glaring down at me with icy stares. The one on the left, wearing a black hoodie and a silver chain, crossed his arms and tapped his shoulder. "Bro, which one is this? I honestly can't tell them apart." The one on the right, wearing a tailored suit, stood with one hand in his pocket, his face thunderous. "That one is mine. Just last night, she literally told me that when she died, I better leave a Popeyes family meal combo on her grave." The one on the left laughed. "Haha, I told you. This greedy little snake is definitely not my baby." The one on the right looked annoyed. "Who are you calling greedy?" "My bad, bro." I was so terrified I coiled myself into a three-tiered donut. Save me. Why were there two Westons?!
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