I Don't Want to Have Little Mushrooms with You - Chapter 25

Song Tai’s heart skipped a beat. She completely forgot about the insect on her calf and gestured for Qu Chunjun to put her down.

Qu Chunjun lowered her gaze, her fingers silently brushing against the hem of Song Tai’s skirt near her calf.

But Song Tai was too preoccupied to notice Qu Chunjun. She turned to Qu Fengyue, a hint of panic in her voice. “How did you find me here?”

Qu Fengyue continued to smile, though the smile didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Does Elder Sister not want me here?”

Yes.

She didn’t want Qu Fengyue here. Subconsciously, she didn’t want to see her at all.

Her feelings toward Qu Fengyue were now tangled and complicated.

The wound on Qu Fengyue’s neck hadn’t fully healed.

Yet the memory of that day stirred a deep resistance within her. She didn’t want to face Qu Fengyue.

But under Qu Fengyue’s gaze, she shook her head. “Of course not. How did you even know I was here?”

Qu Fengyue stepped closer, took the bamboo basket from Song Tai’s hand, and firmly clasped her fingers. Her smile widened. “Elder Sister wouldn’t answer my calls or reply to my messages. I was so worried. So I had to ask Chairman Song.”

Chairman Song.

Song Xuehe.

Song Tai stared at Qu Fengyue in disbelief, her mind blank.

She actually went to see Song Xuehe?

How could she go see my mother?

Instinctively, Song Tai felt a surge of displeasure and anxiety toward Qu Fengyue’s actions.

She didn’t want Song Xuehe to meet Qu Fengyue. Even though she desperately wanted Song Xuehe to stay out of her affairs, she had never considered bringing Qu Fengyue to meet her mother.

She believed this was just an ordinary, everyday romance.

Moreover, Song Xuehe had previously expressed her disapproval of this relationship, so Qu Fengyue shouldn’t have appeared before her at all.

This was what Song Tai had been taught since childhood.

Although Song Tai often felt that Song Xuehe was too strict, treating her like a child who would never grow up, and she resented this control, her ingrained instincts still compelled her to obey Song Xuehe and follow her teachings.

What right did Qu Fengyue have to meet my mother without my permission?

Song Tai nearly blurted out the question, ready to confront Qu Fengyue.

But when her gaze fell on Qu Fengyue’s injury, the purplish-blue marks still lingered on her fair neck. A few days hadn’t been enough for them to fully fade; in fact, the bruising had spread slightly, darkening into mottled patches of blackish-purple that made the injury appear even more severe. Even her collar couldn’t quite conceal it.

I did this.

Her bl00d turned cold in an instant. Regaining her composure, she swallowed the words she had been about to say.

Ultimately, it was because she hadn’t properly comforted Qu Fengyue that Qu Fengyue had sought out Song Xuehe.

Qu Fengyue: “Chairman Song gave me this address and agreed to let me come find you.”

Song Tai swallowed the questions she wanted to ask, a knot of discomfort tightening in her chest.

But when her eyes landed on the injury again, she couldn’t help but speak, forcing down her emotions. Her tone was harsh: “Don’t do that again.”

Qu Fengyue feigned innocence: “But you weren’t answering my calls or replying to my messages. What else could I do?” Her tone carried a hint of entitlement, as if she were asking why Song Tai had been ignoring her.

Seeing Song Tai’s darkening expression, she quickly changed her tune, promising: “I’m sorry, I’ll never do it again. Elder Sister, please don’t be angry.”

Song Tai didn’t want to say anything.

Qu Fengyue took her hand without hesitation, glancing at Qu Chunjun beside them. “Let’s go to my room to talk, okay?”

Song Tai instinctively wanted to follow her, but her fingers twitched, resisting the touch.

Suddenly, Qu Chunjun reached out and gripped Song Tai’s wrist.

The icy touch sent a shiver through her.

Ever since Qu Fengyue’s sudden appearance, Song Tai’s mind had been in chaos, completely overlooking Qu Chunjun’s presence.

Qu Chunjun’s gaze lingered on her, as if confirming whether she was willing to leave with Qu Fengyue.

Song Tai nodded, explaining softly with a hint of embarrassment, “This is my girlfriend, Qu Fengyue.”

The unspoken implication was clear: she was willing.

Qu Chunjun nodded to acknowledge her words, took a step back, and released her wrist.

As the icy fingers left her wrist and the door began to close, Song Tai instinctively glanced back at Qu Chunjun.

Qu Chunjun stood motionless, her expression indifferent, watching her. But in the next moment, her lashes lowered, and she withdrew her gaze.

Song Tai didn’t really want to be alone with Qu Fengyue.

Yet she also felt Qu Fengyue hadn’t done anything wrong. On the contrary, it was Song Tai herself who had injured Qu Fengyue, making her the one at fault.

This sense of being forced to take responsibility left her feeling restless and irritable.

She sat on a chair in her room, gazing out the window, mentally preparing herself.

A pang of regret surfaced. Her mother had been right—she shouldn’t have rushed into a new relationship so soon after Qu Fengling’s death, especially not with Qu Fengyue.

This is too complicated.

As if oblivious to her thoughts, Qu Fengyue knelt before her, resting her cheek against Song Tai’s knee and looking up with pleading eyes. “I miss you so much,” she murmured.

Qu Fengyue grasped Song Tai’s wrist, guiding her hand to caress her cheek.

When Song Tai’s fingertips touched the warm skin, a flicker of resistance stirred within her. Her fingers instinctively curled inward, but she didn’t pull away. Instead, her hand obediently cupped Qu Fengyue’s face, gently stroking downward.

The skin was pale and smooth, but as her fingers traced lower, a stark, purplish bruise bisected the cheek, its boundary sharp and abrupt.

Song Tai swiftly withdrew her hand, averting her gaze in self-deception. “Does it still hurt?”

Qu Fengyue seized her wrist again, pressing her cheek into Song Tai’s palm and nuzzling affectionately. “It doesn’t hurt when Elder Sister is here.”

Song Tai’s smile strained.

For some reason, Qu Fengyue’s intimate touch made her skin crawl. Perhaps it was the lingering shadow of their previous encounter.

Even now, though Qu Fengyue seemed perfectly normal, Song Tai couldn’t shake the illusion that fungal hyphae were about to burst from her body at any moment.

She suppressed the urge to yank her hand away, swallowing hard—a telltale sign of her childhood anxiety.

“Good, if it doesn’t hurt,” she managed to say.

Qu Fengyue froze, gripping Song Tai’s wrist. She nuzzled her nose against Song Tai’s fingertips, sniffing lightly before abruptly declaring, “Elder Sister has something on her fingers.”

Her voice turned icy, tinged with a sharp, sour jealousy. “A lot of it.”

Song Tai, bewildered by Qu Fengyue’s sudden shift in mood, instinctively explained, “We were picking mushrooms together…”

Qu Fengyue ignored her, crouching before her and holding her wrist. Her cold gaze swept over Song Tai’s entire hand before her lips parted.

Song Tai gasped, her scalp prickling with terror as if it were about to explode.

A warm, wet tongue wrapped around her fingers, sucking and slowly moving across her skin like a snake slowly coiling its scales tighter.

The sensation sent a strange, unsettling chill through her, the intense stimulation making her scalp tingle.

Her primal instincts screamed at her to flee, but when she tried to pull her hand away, Qu Fengyue tightened her grip on her wrist.

Qu Fengyue nibbled and rubbed Song Tai’s fingertips between her teeth, gradually increasing the pressure until red marks appeared on her hand, like an animal marking its territory. She erased every trace of foreign scents, replacing them with her own.

After a moment, Qu Fengyue finally released her, satisfied.

Tilting her head back, Qu Fengyue smiled up at Song Tai, her tone cheerful, her expression almost ingratiating, yet carrying an unspoken warning. “I’ve cleaned you up, Elder Sister. You need to be good and be more careful next time. Don’t touch anything else, okay?”

Her words didn’t sound like Song Tai had accidentally touched something; they sounded more like a wife who had fallen for someone else and cheated on her.

In truth, Qu Fengyue had also detected the scent of another dog on Song Tai’s body.

She knew without a doubt whose it was.

Just a few days away from Song Tai, and she gets bitten by a dog, Qu Fengyue thought with a twisted satisfaction.

Song Tai’s entire hand was wet from Qu Fengyue’s licking, especially the fingers that had touched the spores, which were now sore and covered in teeth marks from being sucked.

Still reeling from the encounter, Song Tai’s heart raced, and the spots where her fingers had been licked and bitten felt numb and throbbing.

For a moment, she didn’t know how to react.

Qu Fengyue’s actions had long surpassed the feeble label of “strange.”

As if relying entirely on animal instinct, Qu Fengyue exerted all her strength to hold her companion close, marking her with her scent.

Qu Fengyue stared at Song Tai, tilting her head. “Elder Sister?” she asked, seemingly puzzled by her lack of response.

Song Tai could have refused to answer. Qu Fengyue’s demeanor made her deeply uncomfortable.

She couldn’t quite articulate why, but ever since their last intimate encounter—that bizarre and surreal scene—she felt an inexplicable dread whenever she faced Qu Fengyue.

She hastily withdrew her hand, pressed her lips together, and forced a smile. “…Okay.”

Qu Fengyue smiled genuinely. “Elder Sister is so obedient.”

Finally, she stood up and released Song Tai.

Song Tai exhaled in relief. The oppressive feeling that had enveloped her since entering the room, subtly binding her thoughts and nearly paralyzing her ability to think, began to dissipate.

She wanted to find Qu Chunjun immediately.

She couldn’t bear to stay here with Qu Fengyue any longer.

“You just rushed over here. Rest in my room for a while. I’ll go check if lunch is ready,” she said hurriedly, avoiding Qu Fengyue’s gaze as she rose to her feet, eager to leave without delay.

Her foot had barely stepped forward, her fingers grasping the doorknob, when Qu Fengyue suddenly chuckled and called out, “Where are you going, Elder Sister? To see that woman from earlier?”

Song Tai’s wrist was seized.

Footsteps approached, and a breath pressed against her back, enveloping her. “Is Elder Sister going out like that?”

Song Tai’s mind struggled to process the question. “What?”

Qu Fengyue rested her chin on Song Tai’s shoulder, her eyes shifting as she stared at Song Tai’s fingers. “I mean, I got Elder Sister’s fingers wet with my saliva. It’s so dirty.”

“You should clean them before going out.”

Song Tai took a deep breath. “No need, I’ll just…”

Qu Fengyue tilted her head slightly, leaning closer. Her eyes remained fixed, staring at Song Tai with an eerie intensity.

A chill ran down Song Tai’s spine, and she instinctively backed away two steps, collapsing back into her chair.

“No,” Qu Fengyue interrupted, her gaze unwavering. “It’s my fault. I should help Elder Sister clean them.”

As she spoke, Qu Fengyue pulled out a tissue, crouched down, and grasped Song Tai’s hand, intending to wipe it clean.

Song Tai couldn’t bear it and yanked her hand away.

Qu Fengyue smiled faintly, tilted her head back to look at Song Tai, and said slowly, “Is Elder Sister afraid of me?”

Song Tai’s skin crawled. Her expression strained, and she subtly averted her gaze. “Of course not. You’re my girlfriend. Why would I be afraid of you?”

Qu Fengyue: “Really?”

Qu Fengyue cradled Song Tai’s hand in her lap, lowered her head, and pressed delicate kisses to her knuckles, as if verifying the truth of her words.

The warm breath on the back of Song Tai’s hand made her tense immediately.

Qu Fengyue’s earlier behavior had already sent shivers down her spine. Could she really be about to repeat it?

“Then why are you so stiff, Elder Sister?” Qu Fengyue paused.

She reproached herself, her voice tinged with dejection. “Did I do something wrong? Did I make you uncomfortable?”

Song Tai’s fingers curled inward. “No, don’t think that way.”

Qu Fengyue hummed in acknowledgment and resumed her earlier actions, kissing from the tips of Song Tai’s fingers, tracing a continuous line upward to the corner of her lips.

As Qu Fengyue’s breath drew closer, Song Tai instinctively turned her head to avoid the kiss. Despite her best efforts to remain composed, her body betrayed her.

Qu Fengyue abruptly stopped, her gaze steady and calm.

Kneeling before Song Tai, the height difference between them was stark. Though Qu Fengyue was physically lower, her gaze made Song Tai’s heart race.

Qu Fengyue’s voice held a hint of confusion. “If not, then… are you trying to avoid me, Elder Sister?”

Song Tai forced a perfunctory smile. “Don’t overthink it,” she said dismissively. “Why would I?” All she wanted now was for Qu Fengyue to stop looking at her like that.

But Qu Fengyue remained fixedly gazing at her, unmoving.

Her black eyes reflected Song Tai’s image, trapping her within their depths like a cage.

The stillness was almost unnerving.

Hesitantly, Song Tai leaned closer and pressed a kiss to Qu Fengyue’s forehead, reassuring her, “There’s really nothing wrong.”

She steadied herself and forced out the words, “I’m not afraid of you, and I don’t want to avoid you.”

“I’ve just been so tired lately, I need to rest,” she continued, her voice growing more convincing as if she were persuading herself as well. “Don’t overthink it.”

Only then did Qu Fengyue’s lips curve into a faint smile. “As long as you’re not afraid of me.”

Qu Fengyue remained sprawled comfortably across Song Tai’s lap, suddenly dipping her head to press a kiss against her knee. A soft murmur escaped her throat, clinging, “Elder Sister, I’ve missed you so much.”

“Do you miss me too, Elder Sister?” She tilted her head back to gaze up at Song Tai, her lips brushing lightly against her knee, again and again, each touch carrying a subtle, questioning undertone.

Song Tai froze. Even through the fabric of her skirt, she could feel the warmth of the kiss, damp and scalding against her leg.

“Elder Sister?” Qu Fengyue urged, pressing for an answer.

Song Tai nodded, forcing herself to relax. She closed her eyes and gently parted her legs.

Qu Chunjun stopped at the door, holding the medicine Song Tai had requested.

Her raised hand paused as she tilted her head slightly, lowering her gaze to listen to the faint sobs coming from inside the room.

The whimpers were barely audible, escaping Song Tai’s lips only when the pleasure became unbearable, intermittent and fragile.

Ordinarily, such faint sounds wouldn’t carry beyond the walls. Yet these delicate cries pierced through the barrier, reaching Qu Chunjun’s ears with uncanny precision, silently tickling her inner ear.

Qu Chunjun stared at the door.

Even through the wall, she could vividly imagine Song Tai pinned to the chair, knees parted, waist arched slightly, eyes rimmed with tears, weeping silently from the throes of pleasure.

The whimpers grew louder, as if slipping beyond Song Tai’s control.

Without a shred of guilt about interrupting their intimacy, Qu Chunjun immediately raised her hand and knocked expressionlessly on the door.

Inside the room, the sudden knock shattered the silence. Song Tai’s arched back stiffened abruptly as she turned her head in panic toward the door, desperately trying to push away Qu Fengyue’s head, which was buried intimately against her lower abdomen.

A few minutes later, Song Tai finally opened the door, her movements slow and deliberate.

Qu Chunjun’s scrutinizing gaze fell upon her like a cold, silent scanning beam, missing no detail of the subtle changes in her appearance.

The wrinkles in her skirt were from the way it had been ruthlessly hiked up and bunched around her waist, leaving creases.

Her lower lip was pitifully swollen, likely from someone’s hurried bite during a kiss, or perhaps from Song Tai biting it herself to stifle a cry.

The corners of her eyes were red, and her lashes were damp with physiological tears, clinging together in clumps.

Song Tai awkwardly smoothed her skirt, her movements stiffening as she met Qu Chunjun’s gaze. For some reason, she felt as though Qu Chunjun had already seen through her.

Moreover, Qu Chunjun’s expression was too calm, so calm that it made Song Tai feel a pang of shame, belatedly reminding her of where she was.

“Is… is there something you need?”

Qu Chunjun shifted her gaze away, her tone indifferent. “Layman Song, the vegetarian meal is ready.”

“Oh, okay.” Song Tai glanced back at the person in the room, gave a perfunctory reply, and moved to close the door, only to realize Qu Chunjun hadn’t left.

“Is there anything else?”

Qu Chunjun stared directly into her eyes and suddenly said, “You’ve been crying.”

Song Tai lowered her gaze, instinctively wanting to deny it.

A cold, undeniable finger brushed against her flushed, burning eyelid.