I Don't Want to Have a Baby with You - Chapter 7
A warning buzz echoed in her brain, her breathing rapid and out of control.
Song Tai stared fixedly at the white-shelled camera. It resembled a mocking black eye, lurking in the shadows of dim light, silently watching her.
It felt… as though Qu Fengling was gazing at her.
Her mind went blank. She couldn’t tell whether the camera had been moved here long ago or if its position had only been altered today.
She was certain she hadn’t touched it.
Who else had been in the house recently?
There was the housekeeper, but she had been working for the family since Song Tai was a teenager. Song Xuehe trusted her completely, and she had only been called back recently because Song Xuehe was worried Song Tai couldn’t take care of herself. The housekeeper wouldn’t have moved anything without permission.
Qu Fengyue.
And… Qu Fengyue.
Her fingers trembled slightly as she picked up her phone and dialed.
One ring, two rings…
The call was answered quickly.
There was the sound of wind and faint chatter in the background, as if the person had just hailed a taxi.
Qu Fengyue’s voice carried surprise—this was the first time Song Tai had initiated a call. “Sis!”
Song Tai’s tone was urgent. “Did you move that camera?”
“Camera? The one with the white shell?” Qu Fengyue let out a soft hum of confusion, her tone calm, as though she didn’t understand Song Tai’s panic. She sounded like an outsider, even chuckling leisurely. “Oh, I accidentally knocked it over earlier and put it back. What’s wrong?”
“But that camera isn’t even plugged in.”
“And why would you suspect me?”
Then, as if realizing something, her voice took on a note of regret, as though trying to make amends. “Ah, I forgot—I should’ve told you. It shouldn’t be facing the couch, right? Did it scare you?”
“I’m sorry…”
Song Tai didn’t want to hear any more. She hung up and sat on the couch, gripping her phone, her breathing still shaky.
Her gaze shifted to the camera across the room. It stood silently and lifelessly on the low cabinet—just a camera.
Nothing had changed. It hadn’t moved at all.
Qu Fengyue was right. The camera wasn’t plugged in.
It was just her imagination. She had overreacted.
Song Tai slowly relaxed.
But her mind refused to settle. Against her will, her eyes kept drifting back to the camera. She desperately needed to distract herself.
Just then, her phone chimed with a new message.
From someone named Chen Ling: [Caicai, have you eaten dinner yet? I just got back from a business trip. Want to grab a bite?]
Reading the message, Song Tai’s heartbeat gradually steadied. She replied: [Already ate.]
Chen Ling: [Tired already? Want to grab a drink?]
It was only nine o’clock—far from her usual bedtime. But Song Tai curled her lips slightly and deliberately sent: [Yeah, a little tired. Going to sleep soon.]
A few seconds passed with no reply. Then, instead of texting back, Chen Ling called.
Song Tai answered. The voice on the other end was warm, laced with helpless amusement. “Song Caicai, do I really have to say I miss you?”
“It’s been days. Come have dinner with me, okay?”
Song Tai couldn’t help but laugh, though her tone still carried a hint of reluctance as she said with restraint, “Fine, wait for me then.”
Their familiar and harmonious banter clearly showed they’d known each other for ages.
Chen Ling had grown up with her—they’d been friends for over twenty years.
The cat she and Qu Fengling had been looking after earlier actually belonged to Chen Ling. It was because of her cat that Qu Fengling had bought the surveillance camera.
Song Tai hurriedly changed her clothes, and just as she was about to leave, her phone buzzed with a sudden message from Qu Fengyue.
Qu Fengyue: [Wear something warm when you go out, sis. It’s going to rain later. Don’t catch a cold.]
Puzzled, Song Tai glanced at the message and absentmindedly opened the weather app, which showed no rain forecast for the next 24 hours.
She brushed it off and quickly hailed a cab, heading straight for the restaurant they’d agreed on.
As soon as she stepped out of the car at the destination, she spotted her.
In early spring, the sky had already darkened completely. A tall, slender figure in a trench coat stood beside the decorative flower wall next to the restaurant. The soft glow of the lights cast a serene, almost poster-like quality on her profile.
Song Tai had rushed out the door, afraid of keeping Chen Ling waiting, but now that she saw her, she awkwardly forced herself to slow down.
As if sensing her presence, the woman turned, revealing a strikingly beautiful face—sharp, well-defined features, deep-set eyes that bordered on severe, and long lashes that slightly veiled her pale gray irises.
Perhaps because of the lightness of her eye color, her gaze seemed cold, almost piercing, giving off an unapproachable air of quiet elegance.
But the moment she noticed Song Tai, the woman’s cool, composed expression softened into a warm smile. “Come here,” she said, her voice gentle.
Song Tai shuffled toward her.
Chen Ling asked, “How’d you get here?”
Still a little stiff, Song Tai replied, “Took a cab.” She hated driving.
“Why didn’t you ask me to pick you up? I drove here.”
Song Tai answered tersely, “No need. You just got back—you must be tired.”
Despite her awkward tone, the concern in her words was clear.
Chen Ling immediately picked up on the underlying sentiment beneath her feigned indifference and softened her voice. “Are you still mad at me?”
She was, a little.
Song Tai instantly turned her head away.
This all traced back to her divorce.
She’d decided to divorce Qu Fengling and had told Chen Ling in advance. Knowing Song Xuehe would never easily agree to it, she’d hoped for some support from Chen Ling.
But to her surprise, not only did Song Xuehe oppose it, even Chen Ling—her closest childhood friend—hadn’t taken her side, instead advising her against the divorce.
Furious, Song Tai had blocked Chen Ling for days, only unblocking her the day before yesterday.
Chen Ling chuckled, as if she’d expected this reaction, and handed her a small gift box. “Don’t be mad. I brought you a present from my business trip.”
Song Tai looked down—a box of chocolates.
“You think a box of chocolates is enough to make me not mad?” Song Tai widened her eyes in disbelief.
Chen Ling then produced a palm-sized plush toy out of nowhere—a soft, sky-blue elephant with two large fan-like ears and a long trunk curled into a heart shape.
Song Tai’s eyes instantly lit up, but she pretended to look away, huffing, “What’s this? Trying to bribe me with this?”
Chen Ling smiled and gently brushed the plush nose of the doll against her cheek, suddenly mimicking the dubbed tone from an animated film, speaking in a muffled voice, “Oh, forgive me, my dear lady.”
“Must I really tear a complete, beating heart from this inhuman body to prove my love for you? Only then will you deign to cast your gaze upon me?”
Song Tai’s tightly pursed lips instantly betrayed her, revealing a hint of restrained laughter as she interrupted, “Stop reciting that, it’s so embarrassing.”
These were lines from an animated film they had watched together as children, a story about a little girl and her stuffed elephant.
It was quite an obscure animation.
But Song Tai loved it. However, it was so niche that official merchandise was scarce, with only two batches ever released.
Song Tai already had one, but she wanted another. Yet, due to the limited quantity, even offering a high price hadn’t secured her a second one.
She took the small doll, fiddling with it adoringly. Though she still tried to maintain a straight face, the joy in her voice was unmistakable: “Where did you manage to buy this?”
Chen Ling didn’t answer. Instead, she bent slightly to meet Song Tai’s eyes, gazing at her intently before seizing the moment to press, “So, can you forgive me now?”
Song Tai threw herself into Chen Ling’s arms, burying her face against her shoulder.
Chen Ling subtly wrapped her arms around Song Tai’s waist and asked knowingly, “Forgiven?”
With her face still pressed into Chen Ling’s shoulder, Song Tai let out a muffled “Mhm,” adding, “I’ll forgive you… barely.”
Chen Ling ruffled her hair and laughed. “How are you still so easy to coax?”
Suddenly, her gaze drifted downward, landing on Song Tai’s neck.
Against the fair skin, a vivid love bite stood out starkly on the side of her neck, trailing down and disappearing beneath her collar—ripe for the imagination, hinting at even more vivid marks hidden below.
Like a complete chain of evidence, it unmistakably revealed what Song Tai had been up to not long ago.
Song Tai noticed where her gaze had settled and stiffened slightly, silently pulling away. She raised a hand to cover her neck somewhat awkwardly, her movements betraying her nervousness.
She could disregard others’ opinions, but not Chen Ling’s.
The two had grown up together; no one was closer to her than Chen Ling.
Chen Ling chuckled. “Why are you so nervous?”
Song Tai’s lips parted, but no words came out.
Because Chen Ling wasn’t like her.
Song Tai thrived on novelty—aside from Qu Fengling, her girlfriends changed frequently.
But Chen Ling was the polar opposite.
Chen Ling took relationships seriously and traditionally. She had stayed with her first love all this time. Though they didn’t live together and were often apart, their relationship was stable and strong.
Chen Ling had always disapproved of Song Tai’s habit of changing girlfriends every few days, considering her approach to love too flippant and irresponsible.
Now, with Qu Fengling having passed away just days ago, Song Tai had already rushed into someone else’s arms.
What would Chen Ling think of her?
“So, when did you get together with this one?” Chen Ling’s eyes lingered on Song Tai’s neck before she forced herself to look away.
“Just… today,” Song Tai replied, her tone unnatural as she stared down at the little blue elephant, unconsciously tugging at its trunk. It was a small lie.
Song Tai probably had no idea how obvious she was when she lied.
Moreover, having grown up together and spent over twenty years in each other’s company, no one understood her better than Chen Ling—except for Song Xuehe.
Chen Ling pretended not to notice, casually humming in acknowledgment before steering the conversation elsewhere. “Let’s head into the restaurant first.”
Song Tai keenly picked up on the shift in her tone and looked up at her in surprise, as if beholding some freshly unearthed artifact.
Was she really letting it go just like that? No further questions?
This wasn’t how Chen Ling had spoken before.
She still remembered Chen Ling’s words when she had tried to dissuade her from divorcing—
Things like needing to be more responsible, not rushing into divorce. What exactly was wrong with Qu Fengling? Why insist on divorce?
Even if she wanted a divorce, she should give Qu Fengling time to process it. She couldn’t be so reckless. The reasoning was identical to Song Xuehe’s, and it had driven her up the wall.
Chen Ling chuckled. “Why are you looking at me like that?”
Song Tai hesitated. “You didn’t support the divorce before, did you?”
“That was then, this is now. The person is already dead…” Chen Ling’s gaze was gentle yet intense, pausing for a few seconds before continuing with a faintly peculiar tone. “Caicai, as long as you’re happy, that’s all that matters.”
Song Tai was half-convinced, unable to resist studying her a few more times.
Chen Ling met her gaze with a smile, her pale gray eyes slowly scanning over the marks on Song Tai’s neck before discreetly looking away.
Song Tai let out an “oh,” inexplicably feeling self-conscious under her scrutiny. There was something off about Chen Ling today. She changed the subject. “Enough about me—how are things between you two now?”
She was referring to Chen Ling’s girlfriend.
“We were both too busy before, but now we’re planning to move in together. She’s preparing to come over.”
Chen Ling’s smile abruptly faded, her expression calm, her tone unnervingly flat, as if reciting lines.
But Song Tai didn’t catch it.
She was genuinely happy for her.
After dinner, a light rain began to fall. Chen Ling picked up her coat and offered, “It’s raining. Taking a cab at night isn’t safe—let me drive you home.”
Raining?
She had checked the weather forecast before leaving—there was no rain predicted.
Suddenly, she recalled the message Qu Fengyue had sent her just as she was about to leave.
—Wear something warm when you go out, sis. It’s going to rain. Don’t catch a cold.
How had Qu Fengyue known it would rain?
Wait—how had she even predicted Song Tai would be going out?
She frowned instinctively.
“What’s wrong?” Chen Ling asked, noticing her staring at her phone in silence.
“Nothing.” Song Tai shook her head, brushing aside the vague unease.
They got into the car, and Song Tai shifted the topic again. “How’s Wangwang doing? Can I see him?”
Wangwang was Chen Ling’s cat.
Chen Ling was driving and couldn’t free her hands, gesturing for Song Tai to retrieve it herself. “My phone’s in my pocket.”
Song Tai leaned over, pulling the phone from Chen Ling’s pocket. It had no passcode, unlocking with a simple swipe.
Holding the phone, she joked lightly, “Nothing I shouldn’t see, right?”
The moment the words left her mouth, her peripheral vision caught a home surveillance app on the screen—a minimalist gray cat logo.
Identical to the one on the security camera at home.
Her heart skipped a beat.