I Don't Want to Have Little Mushrooms with You - Chapter 39

Song Tai was speechless for a moment, staring at Qu Lingyue’s face, which was so close she could feel her breath.

She struggled to suppress the overwhelming urge to slap her.

How could someone who looks so captivating in those stage videos be like this…?

Unable to contain herself, she snapped angrily, “Why do you even have a mouth?”

Qu Lingyue: “……”

She chuckled, immediately backtracking, “Miss Song, don’t be angry. It was just a joke.”

But Song Tai’s expression didn’t soften in the slightest.

A joke is only a true joke if the person being joked about finds it funny.

But Song Tai found nothing amusing. She only sensed offense and a strong sense of ulterior motives in Qu Lingyue’s words.

Frowning, Song Tai turned her head away in annoyance.

There was no way she would share a room with Qu Lingyue.

This remote temple only had two rooms suitable for sleeping: one for Qu Chunjun and the other for Song Tai.

Qu Chunjun disapproved of sharing Song Tai’s room.

Song Tai, in turn, refused to let Qu Lingyue stay in her room, which had only ever been occupied by Song Xuehe.

The final compromise was that Song Tai reluctantly slept between Qu Chunjun and Qu Lingyue.

Before closing her eyes, Song Tai couldn’t help but mutter, “This scene feels so familiar.”

Last time, she had slept properly between Qu Fengyue and Qu Chunjun.

But this time, she quietly shifted closer to Qu Chunjun, putting more distance between herself and Qu Lingyue.

Even if they had to share a room, she didn’t want to be too close to Qu Lingyue.

Noticing her movement, Qu Lingyue smiled at her, the corners of her lips curving upward. “Does Miss Song dislike me that much?”

Song Tai didn’t answer, simply inching closer to Qu Chunjun.

Still feeling uneasy, she reached out and tugged lightly on Qu Chunjun’s sleeve, whispering, “Qu Chunjun.”

Her fingertips accidentally brushed against the skin of Qu Chunjun’s wrist—still so cold.

Sensing the touch, Qu Chunjun lowered her gaze to the fingers clutching her sleeve, but she didn’t shake them off.

Song Tai leaned closer, her voice barely audible. “You need to protect me a little.”

Qu Chunjun looked puzzled.

Song Tai explained, “She forced a kiss on me last time. This person has no moral boundaries. I’m a little worried.”

Qu Chunjun’s expression turned slightly colder, and she nodded lightly.

Still anxious, Song Tai pressed, “Does that nod mean you’ll help me?”

Qu Chunjun paused. “…Mm.”

Song Tai couldn’t help but smile. She patted Qu Chunjun’s shoulder and nodded. “Good! I trust you!”

“Thank you. You’re a good person.”

Qu Lingyue overheard their entire conversation. “Ding—good person card.”

“Seriously? I’m not even the only one who’s gotten the good person card? I thought I’d at least hold a special place in Miss Song’s heart.”

Song Tai: “……”

She glanced at Qu Chunjun.

Qu Chunjun’s expression remained calm, her eyes as cold and indifferent as ever. Yet at this moment, they radiated an unparalleled sense of security.

Only then did Song Tai feel safe enough to close her eyes.

But the moment she did, Qu Lingyue’s voice intruded inappropriately into her ear: “Miss Song, why don’t you move closer to me?”

Song Tai: “……”

The sleepiness she had just begun to cultivate vanished instantly, frightened away.

Song Tai’s eyes snapped open, and she glared at Qu Lingyue, making a zipping motion across her lips. “Shut up. You’re not allowed to speak.”

Qu Lingyue chuckled and raised her hands in a gesture of surrender. “Alright, I won’t say another word.”

Song Tai closed her eyes again.

Perhaps because Qu Lingyue was right beside her, she didn’t fall into as deep a sleep as before.

As drowsiness crept in, Song Tai’s breathing gradually evened out, and in her slumber, she unconsciously leaned slightly closer to Qu Chunjun.

Qu Chunjun closed her eyes as well, listening to Song Tai’s breathing.

After a few minutes, Qu Chunjun’s eyes suddenly snapped open, her gaze sharp and cold as she stared intently at the person before her.

Qu Lingyue wrapped her hand around Song Tai’s, while beneath the covers, fungal hyphae silently spread, poised and ready.

Qu Lingyue moved with relaxed ease, as if completely unconcerned by Song Tai’s gaze.

She tilted her head to look at Song Tai, her fingertips brushing against her cheek.

If Song Tai won’t come closer to me, I’ll just have to close the distance myself.

Her fingers traced down Song Tai’s cheek, gently kneading her lips.

The soft flesh of Song Tai’s lips yielded to her touch, quickly becoming flushed and vibrant.

She had tasted them before and knew exactly how they tasted.

Sensing Qu Chunjun’s gaze, Qu Lingyue didn’t stop. Instead, she flashed a triumphant smile and lowered her head to bite down.

Qu Chunjun was willing to restrain herself, pretending to do nothing, but Qu Lingyue had no such patience.

This was too good an opportunity to pass up.

The sensation this time was even more exquisite than before.

Song Tai kept her eyes tightly shut, even in her sleep, resisting Qu Lingyue’s invasive breath and tongue. She turned her head, pushing against her, trying to shove her away.

But Qu Lingyue seized the opportunity to grab her wrist.

Song Tai had been sleeping lightly to begin with, and the feeling of being deprived of air was too intense, like being trapped in a suffocating nightmare.

She furrowed her brow and jolted awake.

A familiar, loathsome face loomed before her.

Song Tai sat up abruptly, her expression a mix of shock and suspicion.

Qu Lingyue remained relaxed, showing no remorse. She smiled at her. “Miss Song, you’re awake?”

Song Tai felt a slight sting on her lips and instantly realized what Qu Lingyue had just done.

She straightened her disheveled collar and glared at Qu Lingyue, who was now standing very close. Pushing her away forcefully, she snapped, “What do you think you’re doing?”

Qu Lingyue hadn’t expected her to wake up so suddenly, but she showed no sign of nervousness. “Kissing you,” she replied calmly.

Song Tai stared at her in disbelief. Is this woman crazy?

Qu Chunjun closed her eyes, and the fungal threads that had been silently spreading behind Qu Lingyue, preparing to strike, swiftly retreated.

“Can you please stay away from me?” Song Tai moved closer to Qu Chunjun.

Song Tai was genuinely angry. She scrubbed her lips roughly with the back of her hand. If Qu Lingyue’s words had been harsh before, her actions now were downright deranged.

“I’ll hit you,” Song Tai warned.

Qu Lingyue’s expression lit up with anticipation. “Really?”

Song Tai stared at her, speechless.

Clinging tightly to Qu Chunjun, Song Tai wrapped her arms around her and struggled to catch her breath.

Qu Chunjun’s body was remarkably cold—a chill that seemed to emanate from her very bones. Even though early summer had arrived, hugging her for too long made Song Tai feel frozen to the core.

Yet Song Tai would rather cling to Qu Chunjun than let Qu Lingyue get any closer.

She pressed her lips together in disgust. “Don’t come near me again.”

Because of the incident that night, even though Qu Chunjun had tried her best to accommodate Song Tai, silently lending her arm as a pillow, Song Tai couldn’t sleep well.

The next day, she even lacked the energy to play games.

Sitting on a cushion, she glared at Qu Lingyue in the distance, still shaken by the previous night’s events.

She leaned back against Qu Chunjun’s shoulder, watching listlessly as Qu Chunjun’s slender fingers deftly manipulated the on-screen character, nimbly dodging the constantly shifting traps.

With a quick roll, the character evaded the spikes beneath its feet and leaped into the yellow circle marking the finish line.

The screen instantly displayed the congratulatory message: “Level Complete!”

The entire sequence flowed seamlessly, leaving Song Tai thoroughly satisfied.

It was so frustrating that the game felt impossibly difficult when she played it herself, yet seemed effortless in Qu Chunjun’s hands.

Qu Chunjun couldn’t even use a smartphone properly, yet she excelled at gaming.

What kind of bizarre talent was this?

Still, Song Tai found Qu Chunjun quite intriguing.

Qu Chunjun never directly told her not to wander off, but she also never commented on Song Tai’s gaming. She even tacitly allowed Song Tai to hand over the console when she got stuck, sitting beside her to help her clear the levels.

Qu Chunjun tried to hand back the game console, gesturing for Song Tai to sit up and stop leaning against her. “Layman Song,” she said.

Song Tai found her aloof demeanor rather amusing.

She’s actually quite kind, but she insists on putting on this cold, unapproachable act.

“No, I’m a little sleepy,” Song Tai said, resting her head on Qu Chunjun’s shoulder.

Qu Chunjun froze mid-motion, then suddenly announced, “Madam Song is here.”

Who?

Song Tai instantly realized.

Who else could it be? Only Song Xuehe.

She barely managed to stand up before Song Xuehe appeared at the door. Panicked, Song Tai quickly hid the game console behind her back.

Qu Chunjun, however, remained perfectly calm, as if she had anticipated this all along.

Song Tai glanced at Qu Chunjun’s unchanging expression out of the corner of her eye and couldn’t help but mutter inwardly, Qu Chunjun said we have other ways to communicate. Is it telepathy or something?

Song Tai stepped forward and deliberately took Song Xuehe’s hand, desperate to hide the fact that she had been playing games. “What brings you here so suddenly?”

Song Xuehe smiled. “Don’t you want your mother to visit?”

Song Tai shook her head.

It’s just that you said you wouldn’t be coming. I didn’t expect you.

Song Xuehe seemed to have made a last-minute decision to rush over. She was unusually hurried, still in her work clothes, and patted Song Tai’s hair. “Your mother was a little worried about you.”

Song Taixin said there was nothing to worry about, since Qu Chunjun was there.

But she still obediently nuzzled into Song Xuehe’s palm.

Song Xuehe glanced silently at Qu Chunjun beside her, then looked away. “Are you tired?”

Song Tai paused for a few seconds before shaking her head.

Actually, she felt a little guilty bringing this up. She hadn’t been properly performing the ritual at all, just slacking off.

She subconsciously turned to Qu Chunjun and mumbled, “A little, maybe.”

“Then are you hungry?” Song Xuehe asked.

Song Tai shook her head.

Song Xuehe said gently, “But Mommy is hungry. Would you like to have dinner with me?”

Song Tai nodded. “Okay.”

Song Xuehe turned to Qu Chunjun. “We’ll have a simple meal, if you don’t mind.”

Qu Chunjun nodded. “Please wait a moment, Madam Song.”

Song Xuehe: “Let’s go to your room to rest for a while first, okay?”

Song Tai: “Mm.”

Qu Lingyue watched their interaction with keen interest.

One of the band’s ongoing endorsement negotiations was with Song Xuehe’s company. She had heard of Song Xuehe’s name long ago, but this was her first time meeting her in person.

This was Song Tai’s mother.

As she saw the two enter the room together, she prepared to follow.

Qu Chunjun suddenly called out, “Madam Qu, I need your help with something.”

Qu Lingyue glanced at Song Tai, who had already entered the room without so much as a glance back.

Impatient, she snapped, “What is it?” She didn’t want to waste time on Qu Chunjun.

They both knew each other’s true identities.

She couldn’t stand Qu Chunjun, and Qu Chunjun probably wished she were dead.

A moment of silence hung in the air.

Qu Lingyue suddenly turned back, tossed the vegetables in her hand back into the bamboo basket, and scoffed, “Enough with the act. What do you really want?”

Qu Chunjun returned her gaze coldly, remaining unmoved.

Annoyed, Qu Lingyue turned to leave.

“Madam Qu, please wait,” Qu Chunjun called out suddenly.

Qu Lingyue swiftly stepped back, her patience snapping. Fungal hyphae began to spread from her feet, but the strands looked fragile and weak.

“What do you really want?”

She couldn’t understand Qu Chunjun’s motives.

Last night, Qu Chunjun had tried to stop her. Now, knowing they were the same kind, did she really think they could coexist peacefully?

Give me a break.

They both knew that possession was their nature, something inherited from their original bodies at birth. If they could simply suppress it, neither of them would be here.

Her restraint toward Song Tai was nothing but a facade.

But Song Tai wasn’t even here. What was the point of pretending?

Qu Chunjun lowered her gaze, scanning the cluster of mycelia with a rare hint of confusion.

They thrived on Song Tai’s affection.

Given Song Tai’s attitude toward Qu Lingyue, she had assumed Qu Lingyue would already be on the verge of collapse.

Yet the scene before her exceeded her expectations.

Though the mycelia appeared fragile, they were far from being easily crushed.

Qu Lingyue was proving to be more resilient than she had anticipated.

But only slightly.

Her expression suddenly sharpened as she detected a familiar scent on Qu Lingyue—the unmistakable aura of another of their kind. It wasn’t a hallucination.

It was the mycelial scent of Qu Fengyue.

So that’s how it is.

Qu Chunjun suppressed her lingering confusion, her expression returning to its usual calm. Her voice remained even as she stated, “You devoured Qu Fengyue.”

Qu Lingyue stared at her warily.

Qu Chunjun’s assessment was correct.

She had consumed all the mycelia on Qu Fengyue’s body, draining every last bit of her remaining value.

Without that, she wouldn’t have survived this long.

The Mother had long tacitly permitted them to fight each other in the shadows.

If that was the case, she might as well put Qu Fengyue’s resources to use. After all, Qu Fengyue had no chance left. It was better to give that opportunity to her.

The only thing she hadn’t anticipated was how easily Qu Fengyue would ultimately allow herself to be consumed.

Did Qu Fengyue realize she had no chance left? Or was she so devastated by Song Tai’s fear of abandonment that she simply gave up?

She sneered.

What a waste.

Competition and dominance were innate instincts etched into their genes.

Qu Fengyue had squandered such a perfect opportunity, foolishly surrendering like an abandoned dog.

She had given up so easily, merely sensing Song Tai’s rejection of her true nature.

Did she really think she was just a tail-wagging dog?

Everything was worth doing to secure a mate.

But only if you succeeded.

More strands of mycelium, like moss thriving in the shadows, were ignored before they even reached Song Tai, silently appearing and vanishing.

If she were Qu Fengyue, she would never have abandoned such a golden opportunity.

Even if Song Tai feared her.

The end result was all that mattered.

Suppressing these thoughts, she fixed a wary gaze on Qu Chunjun. “So?”

“What’s wrong? Do you want to devour me too?”

Qu Chunjun didn’t seem particularly strong, but she likely wasn’t weak either.

If she could devour Qu Chunjun, perhaps it would sustain her longer.

Her thoughts churned, but her expression remained calm, even adopting a smile. “Don’t forget she’s still here. At least let me return alive.”

Qu Chunjun seemed to see through her intentions. “No, I won’t devour you.”

Qu Lingyue relaxed slightly.

To be honest, she wasn’t sure of Qu Chunjun’s true strength, but she suspected her current condition was inferior.

She considered seizing an opportunity to strike while Qu Chunjun was distracted… but the thought hadn’t fully formed when disaster struck.

Qu Chunjun’s expression turned cold, without a trace of hesitation.

From beneath her feet erupted a dense mass of mycelium, surging upward like the nutrient-rich branches of a rapidly growing plant. With blinding speed, the fungal tendrils surged toward Qu Lingyue.

Qu Lingyue’s face finally betrayed her shock. “What are you doing?”

She hadn’t anticipated Qu Chunjun’s overwhelming power. While kindred beings could sense each other’s presence, they couldn’t fully gauge each other’s strength.

She took a step back, barely dodging the attacking tendrils. Her resolve to confront Qu Chunjun head-on wavered. Her gaze subtly shifted behind Qu Chunjun, searching for an opening as she feigned innocence. “Qu Chunjun, why bother? Don’t we share the same goal?”

“Our goals are different,” Qu Chunjun replied coldly.

She scoffed. “Different? How so? We were originally one and the same. What could possibly be different? Or have you been pretending for so long that you’ve become addicted to the act?”

But Qu Chunjun moved faster than she anticipated, unleashing her tendrils without mercy. In the blink of an eye, they had already spread to her feet.

She dodged again, barely escaping. Her immediate priority was to escape Qu Chunjun’s grasp. She tried to call out to Song Tai, but it was too late. The faint syllables had barely escaped her lips: “Miss Song…”

Qu Chunjun’s expression turned icy. The tendrils surged forward with terrifying speed, reaching her feet in an instant.

Without hesitation, they tightened around the tendrils sprouting from her body, slowly and relentlessly constricting with a harvesting motion.

The harsh white sunlight blurred Qu Chunjun’s features, leaving only the faintest hint of a smile visible—the corners of her lips curving upward, momentarily merging with the image of the Goddess statue in the temple.

Song Tai glanced out the window, startled. She thought she had heard Qu Lingyue’s voice, but it was only a single word.

The sound quickly faded away.

Maybe I misheard, she thought, turning back.

She wondered why the two were taking so long in the kitchen. Why aren’t they back yet? I’m starting to get hungry, and Mom must be even hungrier.

Just as she was about to get up to check, Song Xuehe gently stopped her. “They’ll be back any minute now.”

“Come, sit here with Mom.”

Song Tai murmured an “okay” and settled back down beside Song Xuehe.

The very next moment, she saw the two women returning.

How did Song Xuehe know? she wondered, feeling a little spooked. Could they really have some kind of telepathic connection?

Qu Chunjun and Qu Lingyue walked in side by side. The backlighting blurred their faces, but as they moved, Song Tai couldn’t shake the eerie feeling that their postures were unnervingly similar, as if controlled by the same person.

Qu Lingyue’s cold expression shifted into an unnatural smile, then quickly transformed into a fluid, lively expression. A smile played on her lips as she greeted Song Tai, “Layman Song.”

Song Tai froze.

Why is Qu Lingyue suddenly calling me that too?

She eyed her warily. “Why are you calling me that? Are you about to say something annoying again? If so, just don’t bother.”

Qu Lingyue smiled softly. “No, it’s just… seeing you again made me a little flustered. I misspoke.”

“Oh… okay…” Song Tai blinked, staring blankly at her.

Why would she say something like that? We were only apart for a few minutes!

But strangely, she couldn’t shake the feeling that Qu Lingyue seemed… less annoying than before.