I Don't Want to Have Little Mushrooms with You - Chapter 12

The short-haired leader surnamed Yu was Song Xuehe’s former assistant before being transferred to the branch company.

Song Xuehe had never hidden this from her. She had said she wasn’t at ease and felt more reassured with someone she trusted keeping an eye on things.

The car’s interior was dimly lit. Song Xuehe watched her quietly, her gaze leaving no room for evasion.

Under that scrutinizing stare, after a few seconds, Song Tai stammered, “Yes.”

Song Xuehe: “How far has it gone? Have you already defined the relationship? Are you together?”

“Mm.” Song Tai didn’t deny it.

Because she knew that, given Song Xuehe’s methods, if she was asking this question, she must already be certain about her relationship with Qu Fengyue.

Her mind was in chaos right now.

She didn’t understand how Song Xuehe had found out. She and Qu Fengyue had never interacted at the company—except for that one time in the elevator.

Had they really given themselves away that time?

But back then, hadn’t the leader not noticed?

Song Xuehe: “Then why didn’t you tell me?”

“Cai Cai, did I really have to hear about your relationship from an outsider?”

Song Tai pressed her lips together, unwilling to answer.

She had deliberately kept it from Song Xuehe.

If Song Xuehe knew, she would never approve.

Song Xuehe claimed it was for her own good. Song Tai understood that, but she didn’t want to think about it too much.

Her heart had already been weighed down by Qu Fengling’s sudden car accident.

She just wanted a short-lived romance, without overthinking anything.

The moment she agreed to be with Qu Fengyue, she had anticipated that Song Xuehe would disapprove.

Just like how she had opposed her divorce from Qu Fengling back then.

Song Xuehe: “Why aren’t you saying anything?”

Song Tai cautiously looked up at her, biting her lip before murmuring softly, “I’m sorry, Mom.”

Song Xuehe watched her silently, not speaking.

Song Tai felt uncomfortable under that gaze.

She knew Song Xuehe was disappointed in her again.

After what felt like an eternity, Song Xuehe finally responded with a casual “Mm,” adding, “Break up with her tomorrow.”

Song Tai jerked her head up to look at her. “Why?”

Song Xuehe seemed amused by her question and chuckled lightly. “Why shouldn’t you?”

Song Tai took a deep breath, forcing herself to suppress her emotions. “My relationship is my own business.”

Song Xuehe: “Of course it’s your business. But how long have you even known this girl? Do you understand her character and background? And how long has it been since Qu Fengling died? Do I really need to spell this out for you?”

“Why can’t you just be obedient?”

Song Tai met her gaze. These past few days, she had already been feeling unsettled, and Song Xuehe’s words were like a spark igniting gunpowder, effortlessly setting off the frustration she had barely managed to suppress over the last three days.

Song Tai raised her voice. “I’m twenty-five years old.”

Song Xuehe smiled calmly, her tone indulgent, as if helpless against her tantrum. “And?”

“No matter how old you are, I’m still your mother. Isn’t it natural for me to worry about you?”

Her composure only highlighted Song Tai’s emotional outburst, exposing her subordinate position in their mother-daughter dynamic.

Because only the weaker party would raise their voice, using volume to feign confidence.

Song Tai’s chest heaved. “So now I need your permission just to date someone?”

Song Xuehe continued to watch her in silence.

A few seconds later, she gently patted her head, as if soothing a misbehaving child throwing a tantrum, and said softly, “Alright, don’t be angry. That’s not what Mom meant.”

“Of course, dating is your own business.”

“I’m just worried about you. After all, Qu Fengling just got into a car accident a few days ago. If others see you now, there’s bound to be gossip, and it wouldn’t be good for your little girlfriend either…”

“Never mind. As long as you’re happy.” She sighed and smiled, her tone tinged with melancholy and resignation. “Our Caicai has grown up and has her own thoughts now. Mom should respect that.”

Song Xuehe held her ankle, gently helping her put on her shoes before smoothing out the hem of her skirt.

Just like when she was little.

If Song Xuehe had continued with her earlier tone, Song Tai would have known how to respond.

But now that her voice had suddenly softened, Song Tai opened her lips helplessly, at a complete loss for words.

It was like a furious little volcano on the verge of eruption suddenly being sealed under an airtight glass dome.

The emotions raging in her chest hadn’t yet found release—just as they were about to erupt, they were abruptly stifled.

Song Tai stared at her blankly, mouth slightly agape.

She knew exactly how to manipulate her emotions.

Song Xuehe leaned down and kissed her forehead tenderly. “With Qu Fengling in this state, there’s no one to take care of you. If there’s anything you’d like to eat, just tell Auntie and have her make it for you, alright?”

Song Tai turned her head toward the window without a word, her eyes uncontrollably reddening before she let out a quiet “Mm.”

Song Xuehe was always like this.

A few minutes later, the car came to a stop.

“Don’t cry.” Song Xuehe stroked her cheek, fingertips brushing over her damp lashes. “It’s Mom’s fault.”

“Go on up now.”

Song Tai nodded sullenly and stepped out of the car without another word.

But just as her foot touched the ground, she muttered stiffly, “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have spoken to you like that earlier.”

Song Xuehe smiled at her. “Mom’s not upset with you.”

“Sleep well tonight.”

As soon as her figure disappeared from sight, Song Xuehe’s expression instantly cooled. She took out her phone and opened an app.

…

Song Tai pulled out her phone, opened the chat window, and without asking Qu Fengyue if she was free or what she was doing, impatiently typed two words: “Come over.”

About ten minutes later, Qu Fengyue hurried to Song Tai’s home.

Before she could even ring the doorbell, the door swung open, and Song Tai yanked her inside by the wrist.

Qu Fengyue immediately noticed Song Tai’s reddened eyes, as if she’d been crying.

“Sister, what’s wrong—?” She barely had time to ask.

Before the door could even close, Song Tai impatiently grabbed her collar, forcing her to bend down, wrapped her arms around her neck, stood on tiptoe, and kissed her.

Qu Fengyue’s back hit the hard wall of the entryway, caught off guard by the sudden move. She tried to say something.

But Song Tai, her patience gone, snapped harshly, “Shut up.”

It was as if Song Tai just wanted to vent. She pressed her face against Qu Fengyue’s shoulder, gripping her wrist urgently, her breathing tense and ragged as she commanded in a low, husky voice, “Hurry up.”

Qu Fengyue obediently leaned down to kiss the tip of her nose, then embraced her, quietly closing the door behind them before it could creak in protest.

…

She didn’t go any further, keeping a layer of fabric between them.

But it was enough.

She could feel Song Tai trembling, her breath turning ragged and whimpering because of her.

Every breath and tremble was a delight, entirely under her control.

Song Tai buried her face in her shoulder, her back pressed against the door, her mind blank, blindly following her movements, thinking of nothing.

At the final moment, she felt like a sheet of paper completely crumpled by Qu Fengyue, only able to cling dazedly to her neck, losing focus as she surrendered to the loss of control over her own body.

Knock, knock, knock—

The sudden rapping at the door startled Song Tai, her body tensing instantly. Instinctively, she tightened her hold on Qu Fengyue, and the sensations surged even more intensely.

Whoever it was hadn’t rung the doorbell—they’d knocked directly.

Qu Fengyue tilted her head slightly. Through the peephole, she met a pair of eyes the color of faded ash-brown, watching quietly with a faint trace of amusement.

She couldn’t see the full face of the person outside, but she already knew who it was.

A kindred spirit.

The knocking jolted Song Tai back to awareness. Her damp eyes fluttered open as she tried to push Qu Fengyue away. “Someone’s at the door…”

But Qu Fengyue acted as though she hadn’t heard, lowering her head to kiss the tip of Song Tai’s nose before pressing her waist firmly.

With deliberate provocation, she locked eyes with the figure outside once more, as if issuing a challenge.

Qu Fengyue chuckled. “Focus, jie jie.”

Dispensing with the obstructive fabric.

Song Tai let out a muffled gasp, arching sharply.

The sensations that had just begun to subside flared back to life, spreading like wildfire down her spine, threatening to consume her entirely.

Qu Fengyue showed no mercy.

She drove Song Tai to trembling, tears clinging to her lashes as she slumped helplessly against her shoulder.

Minutes later, the knocking had ceased, but the person outside clearly hadn’t left.

Waiting for Song Tai to steady herself, Qu Fengyue smiled, lifting her hand to inhale the lingering scent on her fingertips. “Jie jie was so eager today.”

Song Tai’s eyes remained closed, still struggling to recover.

Qu Fengyue plucked a tissue, wiping her fingers clean before pressing an affectionate kiss to Song Tai’s cheek. She nuzzled reluctantly against her neck. “Go take a shower, jie jie. I’ll get the door.”

…