I Don't Want to Have Little Mushrooms with You - Chapter 26

Qu Chunjun’s touch was light and swift, her fingers icy cold against Song Tai’s feverish eyelids, like drops of ice water.

Song Tai didn’t have time to react. The sudden touch left her stunned for a few seconds, her eyelashes fluttering slowly, a flicker of alarm in her heart.

Qu Chunjun had always been aloof. Song Tai had considered Qu Chunjun’s willingness to carry her down the mountain that morning a remarkable act of kindness.

Such cold detachment was rare. After their few interactions, Song Tai had come to see Qu Chunjun as someone devoid of normal human emotions, a frigid snowman who barely spoke to her.

But now, it seemed that wasn’t the whole story.

There was no hidden meaning in the touch, just a simple, fleeting contact. By the time Song Tai had processed it, Qu Chunjun had already withdrawn her hand.

Song Tai remained unaware that this gesture stemmed from a subtle rivalry between kindred spirits, fueled by an irrepressible restlessness and unspoken desires.

To Song Tai, Qu Chunjun’s words sounded like a detached expression of concern.

Qu Chunjun was showing concern for her.

Though this concern felt strangely out of place and left her with an inexplicable unease.

She met Qu Chunjun’s gaze.

Previously, Song Tai had rarely met Qu Chunjun’s gaze, quickly averting her eyes even when their eyes did meet. Only now did she notice the deep, dark color of Qu Chunjun’s pupils, which seemed to gaze at her with an eerie intensity, accentuating her cold, emotionless demeanor.

“I’m fine, it’s just…” Song Tai trailed off, unable to articulate her thoughts. She mumbled, “Anyway, I’m fine.”

Qu Fengyue had silently appeared behind her, wrapping an arm around her waist.

Qu Chunjun remained silent, her gaze briefly clashing with Qu Fengyue’s behind Song Tai. Their eyes met in a silent exchange, each conveying a clear understanding of the other’s true identity.

Qu Fengyue flashed a triumphant smile.

Qu Chunjun seemed to have asked merely out of politeness. Now that Song Tai claimed to be fine, there was no need for further inquiry. She turned and walked away.

Song Tai gestured for Qu Fengyue to release her. “Alright, I’m a bit hungry. Let’s go eat.”

As Qu Fengyue followed behind her, she suddenly remarked, “Elder Sister, her voice sounds a lot like the one in that video on your phone.”

Song Tai was startled by Qu Fengyue’s keen observation.

Qu Fengyue continued, “So it’s not the video itself that you’re drawn to, but her, right?”

“What are you talking about?” Song Tai asked, the video now resurfacing in her mind.

If she had known it would lead to this situation, she never would have impulsively saved that video.

If she hadn’t saved the video, Qu Fengyue wouldn’t have gotten the sudden idea to wear a collar, and Song Tai wouldn’t have lost control and hurt her.

No, that’s not right.

Strictly speaking, she shouldn’t have been so curious and clicked on the video of Qu Lingyue that her colleagues had shared in the group chat.

If she hadn’t clicked on it, she wouldn’t have saved it by mistake.

And she wouldn’t have accidentally played it when Qu Fengyue asked about it, her guilt making her clumsy.

Song Tai stopped herself from spiraling further. Regret was a bottomless pit.

In the end, she resentfully blamed Qu Lingyue in her heart, though she knew it was unfair.

Qu Fengyue teased in a playful tone, “I thought Elder Sister was ignoring me lately because she’d fallen for someone else.” Her eyes, however, remained fixed on Song Tai’s every flicker of expression.

How could that be?

Song Tai frowned instinctively.

The suggestion was absurd. How could she possibly like Qu Chunjun?

Qu Chunjun was cold as ice. To fall for someone like that would mean being in a subordinate position from the start, constantly plagued by insecurity and anxiety.

Besides, did Qu Chunjun even have emotional needs?

For Qu Chunjun to live alone in such a remote and sparsely populated village, it was unlikely she even had social needs, let alone emotional ones.

“Don’t talk like that,” Song Tai said.

Qu Fengyue grabbed her hand and shook it, apologizing playfully, “I’m sorry.”

Qu Fengyue’s change in demeanor made Song Tai feel more at ease.

Perhaps it was because Qu Chunjun was present, a third person in the room, that she felt safer.

Qu Chunjun’s coldness now seemed like a symbol of reliability, inexplicably comforting her.

Song Tai had only mentioned it casually, but Qu Chunjun had actually made mushroom soup—just for her.

At the dining table, a bowl of soup sat before Song Tai, while Qu Chunjun and Qu Fengyue had only two simple dishes each.

Song Tai picked up her chopsticks, ready to eat, when she suddenly noticed the strangely heavy atmosphere.

Though the two women sat facing each other, they avoided eye contact throughout the meal, as if deliberately ignoring each other.

Qu Chunjun’s aloofness didn’t bother Song Tai; it was her usual way of interacting with people.

But Qu Fengyue, usually so warm and outgoing, remained completely silent toward Qu Chunjun, which was highly unusual.

Song Tai belatedly realized the atmosphere between the two women was strange.

She had been distracted by Qu Fengyue’s sudden arrival earlier and only now remembered she hadn’t formally introduced them.

Her gaze fell between the two women, and she hesitated, unsure how to introduce them.

Qu Chunjun suddenly spoke, cutting off her unspoken words. “The soup will get cold.”

Qu Fengyue chimed in, handing Song Tai her chopsticks. “Elder Sister, weren’t you hungry? Eat quickly.”

Their simultaneous remarks left Song Tai no opportunity to speak.

Despite their apparent animosity, they now displayed a peculiar, almost eerie, synchronicity.

By the time lunch was finished, Song Tai still hadn’t found a suitable moment to speak. The meal concluded in this strange, tense atmosphere.

That evening, Song Tai suddenly realized a problem.

Now that Qu Fengyue had arrived, she no longer had a reason to seek out Qu Chunjun to sleep with.

She hadn’t forgotten Qu Fengyue’s unsettling behavior at noon, which had sent chills down her spine.

Facing Qu Fengyue alone now felt like confronting an over-pressurized container, unsure when it might suddenly explode, showering her with its contents.

This sense of instability filled her with inexplicable dread.

If she actually slept with Qu Fengyue tonight, she was certain she would have nightmares again.

But she didn’t know how to bring it up, and… she was also afraid to.

Qu Fengyue couldn’t go to work temporarily due to the wound on her neck.

Song Tai had even called in sick for her.

She couldn’t think of a plausible reason to ask Qu Fengyue to leave.

Besides, it was already so late. This place was in the middle of nowhere, truly remote, with inconvenient transportation. Without a driver to pick her up, there was no way for Qu Fengyue to leave.

“Elder Sister, does your foot hurt a lot? Let me apply some medicine for you.”

Song Tai forced a smile. Her thoughts raced in circles, but she still couldn’t come up with a good excuse.

Just as Qu Chunjun turned to go back to her room, Song Tai hurriedly called out, “Qu Chunjun.”

Qu Chunjun stopped and turned back, her gaze calm.

At this moment, that calm gaze actually reassured her.

Meeting her eyes, Song Tai steeled her resolve and said softly, “I’m a little scared. I think I’ll have nightmares.”

Given the circumstances, she chose to trust Qu Chunjun and actively seek her help.

She steadied herself and asked, “Could I stay in your room, just like last night?”

Qu Chunjun remained unmoved. “The temple was empty last night. Now that Ms. Qu is here, Layman Song can rest assured.”

The unspoken implication was clear: if Song Tai was afraid to sleep alone, what was there to fear with Qu Fengyue present?

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

Growing anxious, Song Tai nearly shouted out her protest, but Qu Fengyue was in the room and might overhear.

She glanced back at the room, her voice trembling with urgency as she blurted out, “But I want to sleep with you.”

Deliberately softening her tone, she leaned closer and tugged at Qu Chunjun’s sleeve. “Please?”

Instinctively, she knew this approach might work, recalling how Qu Chunjun had relented the previous night.

Qu Chunjun’s gaze patiently swept across Song Tai’s face, inch by inch.

Song Tai looked up at her, her voice urgent, unaware of the suggestive implications of her impulsive words.

“Qu Chunjun…” Song Tai immediately cut herself off, swiftly withdrawing her hand from Qu Chunjun’s sleeve.

“Elder Sister?” Qu Fengyue had returned with medicine in hand, looking puzzled as to why Song Tai hadn’t come inside yet.

Song Tai glanced at Qu Fengyue, then at Qu Chunjun, her eyes silently pleading.

Qu Chunjun remained impassive, merely watching her.

Despairing, Song Tai turned to leave.

If Qu Fengyue gives me nightmares tonight, she thought fiercely, I’ll kick her out of here tomorrow.

I’m not afraid of Qu Fengyue at all. Why should I be?

Qu Chunjun suddenly called out, “Layman Song.”

“That room will be used for a ritual tomorrow. It must remain pure tonight.”

“The accommodations are simple. I’m afraid the two of you will have to share a room with me tonight.”

Song Tai exhaled sharply in relief.

Qu Fengyue’s gaze shifted between the two women. She smiled, showing no suspicion. As a first-time visitor, her ignorance was perfectly natural.

Moreover, Qu Chunjun’s calm demeanor and even tone were utterly convincing. Had Song Tai not known she was lying, she too would have believed her without question.

Qu Fengyue withdrew her gaze and even asked solicitously, “Are you comfortable in the other rooms, Elder Sister? Should I fetch you a pillow and blanket?”

Song Tai nodded casually, then shot a grateful glance at Qu Chunjun as Qu Fengyue turned away, mouthing, “Thank you.” She had expected Qu Chunjun to make an excuse, but never imagined she would directly lie for her.

Although sleeping together with three people was unexpected, as long as she didn’t have to be alone with Qu Fengyue, she was fine.

But Qu Chunjun didn’t even look at her, already turning and entering the room.

The bed in Qu Chunjun’s room was large enough to comfortably accommodate four or five people, so three was no problem.

Still, even a large bed had its limits. While the three of them had ample space, they were still closer than strangers would normally be.

The atmosphere was eerily similar to the awkward tension at the dinner table.

Qu Fengyue leaned close, but mindful of the other person’s presence, she whispered, “Goodnight kiss, Elder Sister?”

With Qu Chunjun still in the room, Song Tai didn’t want to appear too intimate. She casually turned toward Qu Chunjun, leaving her back exposed, closed her eyes, and refused, “I’m so tired.”

Qu Fengyue chuckled, didn’t insist, and wrapped her arms around Song Tai’s waist, hugging her tightly from behind. She pressed a kiss to the nape of her neck. “Goodnight, Elder Sister.”

Song Tai hummed dismissively, then uneasily opened her eyes to check on Qu Chunjun, confirming she was still within her line of sight, only half an arm’s length away, before finally closing her eyes again.

She had let her guard down too much. She didn’t see the silent exchange of glances between the person behind her and the person in front of her after she closed her eyes.