I Don't Want to Have Little Mushrooms with You - Chapter 38

Song Tai hadn’t expected Song Xuehe to suddenly enter. She desperately wanted to hide her current discomposure, but it was too late.

Song Xuehe’s gaze swept over the corners of her eyes and her flushed cheeks.

…A few minutes later.

“Mom…” Song Tai, utterly mortified, tried to pull away, but Song Xuehe pressed her hand firmly on Song Tai’s knee.

The warm palm effortlessly suppressed all her feeble attempts to resist, continuing to clean her with unwavering authority.

“What are you embarrassed about? Haven’t I seen every inch of my Cai Cai before?” Song Xuehe chuckled.

The statement rang true. Song Tai pressed her cheek against Song Xuehe’s neck, suddenly recalling past events.

When she was eighteen and dating her first love, a senior, they had only kissed on the lips and cheeks at first.

Though she was an adult, she still lacked the courage to engage in anything more intimate with her first love.

This was partly due to Song Xuehe’s strict upbringing, which had left her completely uneducated about romantic relationships and clueless about what couples were supposed to do.

Kissing itself was rather dull—just lips touching lips. But the psychological pleasure derived from intimate contact between two people who loved each other, combined with her newfound adulthood and heightened curiosity about her body, made her desire for physical exploration overwhelming.

The emotional intimacy naturally extended to physical pleasure, leading her to begin exploring her own body in a daze.

She couldn’t recall the exact circumstances, but it seemed to have happened on this very bed, where Song Xuehe had caught her.

Song Xuehe usually made a point of checking on her after work to see if she was asleep, giving her a goodnight kiss.

But that day, when she opened the door, she found Song Tai kneeling on the bed, her slender legs exposed, frantically trying to cover herself.

Song Tai had been terrified of Song Xuehe’s reaction.

She had expected Song Xuehe to give her a serious lecture and stop her, believing she was doing something wrong.

But instead, she found herself sitting on Song Xuehe’s lap in a daze.

Leaning against Song Xuehe’s chest, she listened as her mother gently guided her step by step.

“My Cai Cai has grown up,” Song Xuehe murmured.

Naked, tears welling in her eyes, Song Tai buried her face in Song Xuehe’s shoulder, inhaling the familiar scent of her mother’s clothes as her body gradually responded.

In Song Xuehe’s arms, she first explored and experienced pleasure driven entirely by her body.

Afterward, just like now, Song Xuehe had held her close, helping her clean up and comforting her.

But she was no longer the same person she had been before. I’m not just eighteen anymore, she thought with a hint of shame. I understand things now.

She had even been divorced once.

Song Xuehe, however, had no idea what she was thinking.

Song Xuehe gently rubbed Song Tai’s lower abdomen, then leaned down to kiss her forehead. “There, all done,” she said, releasing her and helping her lie back in bed.

Song Tai instinctively grabbed Song Xuehe’s hand, her fingers pressing into her palm.

“What’s wrong?” Song Xuehe asked. “Still uncomfortable?”

Song Tai shook her head slightly. “…N-no, it’s nothing.”

“Someone posted your photo online last night,” Song Xuehe said.

Was that why Song Xuehe had come so suddenly?

Song Tai tensed up, her breathing slowing. “Mm-hmm,” she replied.

She knew she hadn’t done anything wrong, but would Song Xuehe disapprove of her actions?

Unexpectedly, Song Xuehe tucked her tightly under the covers, first reminding her, “Don’t catch a cold,” before asking, “Do you need Mom to help handle this?”

Song Tai paused, then shook her head.

Someone had tried to dig up her personal information, but Qu Lingyue’s team maintained strict control over the information source. Apart from the photo, no other details had been leaked, and they would immediately delete any leaks if discovered.

Suddenly, she remembered that she needed to visit and keep company with Qu Chunjun, the lonely elderly woman at Temple Beach, this week.

“Are you going to Temple Beach this week, Mom?” she asked hesitantly.

Song Xuehe didn’t answer directly but instead asked, “Does Cai Cai want me to go?”

This question put Song Tai in a dilemma. With Song Xuehe present, she wouldn’t be afraid, but without her, things would be much easier. Those tedious, drawn-out rituals were truly annoying.

“Then Cai Cai should go alone, okay?” Song Xuehe said, as if she had already seen through her thoughts.

Song Tai quietly breathed a sigh of relief and nodded.

Song Xuehe chuckled, leaned in, and pressed a warm kiss, carrying her scent, to Song Tai’s forehead. “Sleep a little longer. Remember to eat breakfast later.”

Song Tai nodded absently, shifting uncomfortably. Song Xuehe had gently massaged her lower abdomen earlier, helping her calm down from the lingering heat of arousal.

Now, with her eyes closed, listening to Song Xuehe’s footsteps fade away, she couldn’t resist placing her palm on her lower abdomen again, mimicking Song Xuehe’s earlier movements.

Just as the footsteps were about to disappear from the room, she abruptly opened her eyes. “Mom…”

Song Xuehe paused. “What’s wrong?”

Song Tai didn’t know why she had suddenly called out. “I’ll eat breakfast,” she said.

Song Xuehe chuckled softly, praising her. “My baby is so good.”

Listening to the sounds outside, Song Tai assumed Song Xuehe had left. But she couldn’t fall back asleep. When she picked up her phone, she saw a message from Wang Luo.

She didn’t reply. Instead, she opened Chen Ling’s chat and hesitantly typed: Have you talked to Wang Luo? How are things between you now?

But Chen Ling didn’t respond.

Over the next few days, Wang Luo called twice and sent several messages, but Song Tai didn’t know if they had reconciled and didn’t dare answer.

She did, however, selectively reply to a few messages from Qu Lingyue, just to kill time out of boredom.

The result was an immediate deluge of messages from Qu Lingyue, bombarding her for days.

Song Tai: “……”

For the trip to Temple Beach, she carefully packed snacks, a gaming console, and a large bundle of fresh vegetables—so Qu Chunjun wouldn’t have to dig for wild greens.

As she packed, Song Tai felt a strange, childlike excitement, like she was going on a spring outing.

The very next day, as the car pulled out of the residential complex, the driver suddenly braked. Someone was blocking the road.

When she rolled down the window, she saw a familiar face: hazel eyes and raven-black hair that had grown even longer.

Song Tai: “……”

That pest is back.

She asked warily, “What are you doing here? What do you want?”

Qu Lingyue seemed oblivious to her rejection. “Recently, fans discovered the studio’s address. It’s no longer safe there. The new song is still in production, and the deadline is tight. I need a quiet place where I won’t be disturbed.”

Song Tai suddenly felt a bad premonition. “So?”

As expected, Qu Lingyue’s next words were, “Where are you going? I’ll come with you.”

She added with a sincere expression, “I can help out. I’ll be the great Cai Cai’s little assistant.”

Song Tai: “……”

For some reason, she had a strange sense of I knew it.

She just knew Qu Lingyue wouldn’t stay quiet. She was bound to stir up trouble.

Song Tai didn’t believe a word Qu Lingyue said. Lingyue’s credibility with her was currently at zero.

She pulled out her phone and skeptically searched online, only to discover that Qu Lingyue wasn’t just making up excuses to deceive her.

Because of the earlier incident, some extreme fans had tracked down the band’s practice studio. Somehow, they managed to bypass the neighborhood security and access controls. Fortunately, the studio door was locked as usual, preventing the fans from breaking in.

However, there were still victims. When the bassist woke up that morning, he found several people peering through his window, nearly scaring him to death.

If the studio could be found, the company’s publicly listed address was even more vulnerable.

Although the police had been notified, none of the band members could return to the studio. They were all trying to lay low for the time being.

Song Tai hesitated for a few seconds, looking at the heavy equipment Lingyue was carrying. A sudden wave of sympathy washed over her. “Alright, come on up.”

“I’ll find you a place to stay…”

Before she could finish, Qu Lingyue, who had been waiting for this moment, smoothly slipped into the car. “Driver, let’s go.”

Song Tai: “……”

She quickly regretted her decision.

The moment Qu Lingyue opened her mouth, she became utterly insufferable.

“Is my kissing really that bad?”

“Did I bite you that day?”

“It wasn’t terrible, just rushed. Why don’t we try again?”

Song Tai: “……”

She shouldn’t have let her guard down for a moment. She should have left Qu Lingyue to fend for herself.

Finally, Song Tai snapped. “Can you sing me a song?”

“Why? Does Miss Song enjoy my singing?”

“No, you’re just less annoying when you’re singing.”

Qu Lingyue: “……”

But it was too late. As the scenery shifted and the air grew damp, they soon arrived at Temple Beach.

Even before the car stopped, Song Tai spotted Qu Chunjun waiting before the temple.

The familiar indigo robes, long hair neatly tied back, and aloof expression.

After enduring Qu Lingyue’s constant harassment, Qu Chunjun’s once-perceived flaws—her coldness and taciturn nature—now seemed like virtues of the highest order.

Song Tai immediately leaped out of the car and threw herself into Qu Chunjun’s arms, her voice filled with joy. “Qu Chunjun!”

Qu Chunjun didn’t respond to her embrace, merely saying in a cool tone, “Layman Song.”

Song Tai realized she had been too enthusiastic and awkwardly released Qu Chunjun. “I brought some things.”

Qu Chunjun reached for the items Song Tai had brought.

Song Tai immediately stopped her. “No need. She said she’s here to help. Let her carry them.”

Qu Lingyue: “……”

It was as if Qu Chunjun had only just noticed Qu Lingyue. Her gaze slowly swept over Qu Lingyue’s face, her voice sharp and cold. “A month apart, Ms. Qu, have you had plastic surgery?”

Qu Lingyue: “……”

Song Tai: “No, she’s a… friend. A friend.”

Standing beside her, Qu Lingyue added, “Yes, a friend we’ve kissed.”

Song Tai: “……”

Song Tai glared at her.

Qu Lingyue finally fell silent.

Qu Chunjun seemed to ignore Qu Lingyue’s remark, calmly taking some of the items into her hands.

Despite her earlier words, Song Tai still helped Qu Lingyue carry some things.

Qu Lingyue was somewhat annoying, but she was also polite. If Song Tai stooped to Qu Lingyue’s level, wouldn’t she become just as irritating?

In addition to the items she had organized, Song Tai had also brought Qu Chunjun a smartphone.

She suspected Qu Chunjun owned one, but she had never seen her use it.

Song Tai figured Qu Chunjun probably didn’t use one, what with being a cultivator and all, supposed to shun worldly distractions… That’s how it always seemed to be portrayed in dramas.

But just in case, she had brought a phone anyway.

“Do you have any social media accounts? We could add each other as friends.”

Qu Chunjun shook her head.

“What about a phone? A phone number?”

Qu Chunjun shook her head again.

Song Tai asked, genuinely curious, “Don’t you ever get bored?”

She hadn’t expected Qu Chunjun to have nothing—not even the old-fashioned keypad phone she’d imagined.

Qu Chunjun raised her palm in a single-handed gesture, lowered her head slightly, and spoke with sincere reverence, “Serving the Goddess is my duty, and it is never tedious.”

Song Tai couldn’t quite grasp this.

She pulled out her phone and offered it to Qu Chunjun. “Here, take this. We can exchange contact info, and I can chat with you when I get back.”

Qu Chunjun shook her head in refusal. “Layman Song’s kindness is appreciated.”

Song Tai was taken aback by the rejection. “Ah,” she exclaimed, gently tugging on Qu Chunjun’s sleeve, her voice tinged with disappointment. “You don’t want to chat with me?”

Qu Chunjun lowered her gaze, offering no reply.

Song Tai persisted, “But I want to chat with you. We only see each other once a month, and I’ll miss you.”

“Just take it, please?”

She knew Qu Chunjun would eventually give in to her persistence.

After a few seconds of contemplation, Qu Chunjun accepted the phone.

She genuinely asked these questions out of concern for the elderly, but her tone didn’t convey that to the others.

Qu Lingyue, who had been watching their interaction, suddenly spoke up, her voice tinged with resentment. “You had to resort to tricks to add me, yet you added her so easily?”

Song Tai turned to her, confused. “What else was I supposed to do? Oh, right, how did you trick me into adding you back then?”

Qu Lingyue fell silent, stunned that Song Tai had forgotten so quickly. Does she really mean nothing to me?

“Just kidding, I remember,” Song Tai said, pretending to reach for her phone. “But I’m deleting you now.”

Qu Lingyue immediately grabbed her wrist to stop her.

Song Tai jerked her hand away, refusing to engage. She turned to Qu Chunjun, her curiosity piqued. “You don’t have a phone? How do you usually contact your mother?”

“There are other ways,” Qu Chunjun replied tersely, answering the question without offering further explanation.

What other ways? Carrier pigeons? It’s the 21st century!

Song Tai chuckled at the mental image, suppressing a smile.

Snapping back to reality, she realized the other two were staring at her silently.

“What are you looking at?”

Remembering something, Song Tai turned to Qu Chunjun. “I’m sleeping with you tonight.”

As the saying goes, practice makes perfect. The last time Song Tai had suggested this, she’d been worried Qu Chunjun might refuse. But this time, she was certain Qu Chunjun would agree.

And indeed, Qu Chunjun nodded.

But Qu Lingyue suddenly interjected, “Why not sleep with me instead?”

Song Tai gave her a look that said, Are you serious? “What do you have to do with me? Why would I sleep with you?”

“And what does she have to do with you?” Qu Lingyue chuckled, retorting, “At least we’re friends who’ve kissed.”

She emphasized the words “who’ve kissed,” glancing jealously at Qu Chunjun.

What does she have to do with Qu Chunjun?

Song Tai froze, caught off guard. She struggled to find the right words.

A lonely old woman and a kind-hearted volunteer? Could she answer like that?

Qu Chunjun casually shifted her gaze, waiting for Song Tai’s response.

But Qu Lingyue didn’t want an answer. Seizing the opportunity, she quickly interjected, “Can’t answer, huh? Then we can all sleep together. What’s one more?”

Song Tai: “……”