In Labor, Yet Ordered to Wait

On the day my dad and my brother went to church for prayer, I had just flown back from abroad and was told to return to our family estate to look after my mom, who had transformed into a small white snake.

My mom, Grace Smith, was a descendant of the Native American Sacred Bloodline. In order to shield my dad and my brother from a looming disaster, she exhausted her spiritual energy and was forced back into her original form, becoming a white snake trapped in slumber.

Every day, Richard Smith and Ethan Smith went to church, kneeling in prayer, begging for Grace to awaken soon.

Just as I was carefully caring for her, waiting for the moment she might wake up, our housekeeper, Martha Brown, and her daughter, Chloe Brown, barged into my room.

Chloe slapped me across the face, looking down on me with arrogance.

“I told you, Mom, there’s another maid in this house. See, I was right.”

“Cheap tramp, eyeing this place because it’s full of men, hoping to claw your way up? Let me tell you, the only women in this house are me and my mother. We’re the rightful mistresses here!”

They beat me until I was barely conscious. The weak white snake, who had just begun to stir, struggled to protect me. But in the end, Martha and Chloe beat it to death.

Afterwards, they cooked the snake into a soup and carried it to my dad and brother.

“Dad, Ethan, here’s a special dish I prepared just for you. It’s a real tonic!”

Grace, despite losing much of her spiritual power after marrying Richard, still used her gift of prophecy and healing to save countless lives. Many people called her the “Healing Lady,” and some even built a shrine in her honor.

But when she sacrificed herself to shield Richard and Ethan, Heaven struck her back into her original form, forcing her into a decade-long sleep.

Once she had turned into a snake, Richard took her deep into the mountains to recuperate. Surrounded by natural energy, he treated the small white snake as if it were his very lifeblood.

When I was little, every year, respected elders traveled long distances to our home just to thank Grace for her guidance and protection.

Richard waited day after day, carefully tending to the snake. Once, when large birds circled nearby, fearing they might harm her, he personally cleared the entire region of predatory eagles.

If the snake lost even a single scale, Richard treated it as though he had lost flesh from his own body. He hired priests and doctors, and even spent a fortune to create a high-tech incubation chamber so the snake could rest safely.

When I was young, curiosity made me take the snake out of the chamber to observe it. Richard struck me with a cane until my skin split open and locked me in a dark room for a full day and night. Even Ethan, who usually adored me, refused to speak up for me.

The day Richard and Ethan summoned me home from abroad marked the tenth year of Grace’s slumber.

Many who had once benefited from her kindness returned to our mansion that day to express their gratitude. It was also the date foretold by the tribal priest that she would awaken.

Ten years had passed, but the little white snake lay there unchanged, as if it were a sleeping beauty.

As I stroked her gently, my eyes stung with tears. It had been ten years since I had last seen my mom.

Just then, Martha and Chloe stormed into the room in anger.

I frowned—this room was strictly forbidden to outsiders. I was about to drive them out when Chloe slapped me hard across the face. My head slammed against the glass of the incubation chamber, and my vision went black.