My Sweet Little Flower Turned Out to Be a Sinister Ghost - Chapter 14

Song Yuehua wasn’t surprised by Bai Qingyu’s question and nodded in response.

She thought to herself: This way, Bai Qingyu can feel more at ease, and it’ll also give her and Song Yuelan more opportunities to spend time together.

“I’ll ask her which hospital she’s in at the moment.”

Bai Qingyu stood quietly nearby, her gaze fixed on Song Yuehua’s phone.

[Song Yuehua: Feeling better?]
[Song Yuehua: Which hospital are you at? Bai Qingyu and I will come visit you.]

After sending the messages, she looked up and met Bai Qingyu’s earnest eyes, quickly explaining, “She hasn’t replied yet. She’s probably getting tests done and hasn’t checked her phone.” She didn’t dare mention how quickly Song Yuelan usually replied to messages.

It was already 10 a.m., and the cat café was packed with customers. The wooden tables and chairs were almost entirely occupied, with cats of all kinds patrolling every corner.

Bai Qingyu’s duties didn’t include serving customers, she was only responsible for cleaning and taking care of the cats.

“Let’s go next door and sit for a while. It’s crowded here, and we’re in the way standing around,” Song Yuehua said, pulling Bai Qingyu toward the neighboring café. “You’ve been busy all morning, take a break.”

As soon as they sat down and ordered two hot drinks, Bai Qingyu pulled out her phone from her bag. “Should I go over some practice questions with you first?”

Song Yuehua’s face fell instantly, and she instinctively touched her backpack. “I… I didn’t bring my books…”

Why did she have to study even when she was out?

A faint, slightly smug smile curved Bai Qingyu’s lips. “I have the questions saved on my phone. We can use this.”

Resigned, Song Yuehua moved to sit beside Bai Qingyu.

“Even though you passed your midterms, if you want to successfully transfer majors, you still need to improve your grades,” Bai Qingyu said seriously.

Song Yuehua nodded obediently, like a primary school student.

Sunlight streamed through the café’s glass window, falling on Bai Qingyu’s profile. Her eyelashes fluttered gently as she explained the problems, her focus so intense it felt almost rude to interrupt.

But Song Yuehua’s head was spinning. The questions seemed much harder than the ones they’d practiced before, and her mind felt like it was stuffed with cotton.

When Bai Qingyu finished and looked up, she saw Song Yuehua’s dazed expression and couldn’t help patting her shoulder, a teasing glint in her eyes. “Did you understand?”

Song Yuehua blinked blankly and shook her head honestly. “No…”

“Then I’ll explain it again-” Before Bai Qingyu could finish, Song Yuehua’s phone chimed.

Song Yuehua picked it up, and seeing the sender, a look of relief washed over her face.

Never before had she been so eager for Song Yuelan’s reply.

She looked up at Bai Qingyu, her eyes pleading. “Can I check the message?”

Bai Qingyu nodded immediately, her fingers unconsciously tracing the rim of her coffee cup, her expression tense.

[Song Yuelan: Is Bai Qingyu done with work?]

Song Yuehua was used to Song Yuelan’s habit of answering questions with unrelated remarks.

[Song Yuehua: Yes, all done.]
[Song Yuehua: She’s worried about you, so she wants to come see you.]

After sending the messages, there was no immediate reply. Song Yuehua bit her lower lip, thinking to herself: There’s nothing wrong with what I said.

She glanced up and noticed Bai Qingyu sitting stiffly, so she quickly patted her shoulder. “Don’t worry, she might be busy.”

Bai Qingyu felt the pressure on her shoulder and looked up at Song Yuehua’s somewhat uneasy expression.

When Song Yuehua turned to look at her phone, Bai Qingyu relaxed her expression and calmly adjusted her posture.

Song Yuehua was contemplating whether to send another message to smooth things over when her phone suddenly vibrated with a “buzz,” and a pop-up window appeared on the screen: “Song Yuelan is requesting a video call.”

“!” Song Yuehua flinched backward in surprise, nearly dropping her phone.

Bai Qingyu quickly leaned in, blinked at the pop-up, and said, “It’s President Song’s video call. Should we answer?”

As soon as Song Yuehua nodded, Bai Qingyu tapped the screen with her fingertip, and it instantly lit up, revealing Song Yuelan’s face.

Song Yuehua’s pupils dilated.

“President Song, how is your hand feeling?” Bai Qingyu’s voice came first, carrying a tone of sincere apology. “I’m really sorry you got hurt.”

“The doctor checked it out; it’s nothing serious. It’ll be fine in a few days.” Song Yuelan’s tone was noticeably friendlier than it had been at the cat café, as if she had moved past her earlier anger.

“Where are you now? Yuehua and I will come see you right away,” Bai Qingyu said, leaning closer.

“I’m at home. There’s no need for you to come.”

Listening from the side, Song Yuehua couldn’t help but grumble inwardly: Why does she give vague answers when I ask but respond directly when Bai Qingyu does?

“That’s good to hear. Yuehua and I have been worried about you,” Bai Qingyu said, deliberately leaning closer to Song Yuehua, clearly trying to draw her into the conversation. She hadn’t forgotten her goal of helping the sisters mend their relationship.

Caught off guard, Song Yuehua met Song Yuelan’s gaze and forced a stiff smile, her eyes betraying a hint of discomfort.

On the other end of the screen, the faint smile Song Yuelan had worn while speaking to Bai Qingyu quietly faded, and the corners of her mouth flattened slightly.

“Does Yuehua still want to go camping?” Song Yuelan asked, the name “Yuehua” sounding as if it were squeezed through gritted teeth, deliberately stiff, less like a name and more like an unfamiliar term.

“I…” Song Yuehua hesitated. Her mind flashed back to Song Yuelan’s sour expression after being scratched by the cat, and her enthusiasm had long since vanished.

I don’t really want to go anymore…

“Hmm?” Song Yuelan raised an eyebrow, her tone drawn out, her eyes carrying a subtle pressure that seemed to say, “Don’t you dare say no.”

Under that intense gaze, Song Yuehua swallowed her words and quickly changed her response: “I want to go!” Afraid that Bai Qingyu wouldn’t believe her, she hastily added, “I really do want to go. It’ll be a good chance to relax.”

“Really?” Bai Qingyu reached out and gently touched her arm, her eyes full of concern. “You don’t look too well. Are you tired?”

“No, I’m fine,” Song Yuehua replied.

“Alright then, I’ll drive over to pick you up,” Song Yuelan said. “Song Yuehua, send me your address.”

“Okay,” Song Yuehua nodded.

“See you soon,” Song Yuelan said, her gaze shifting back to Bai Qingyu, her tone softening unconsciously.

“Mm,” Bai Qingyu responded with a gentle, faint smile directed at the screen.

After the call ended, Bai Qingyu asked, “Was the earlier problem a bit too difficult?”

“It was a little tricky,” Song Yuehua replied, silently bowing to the math problem in her mind.

I can’t exactly say it’s because of Song Yuelan that I look so unsettled. Might as well let the math problem take the blame.

“A few more practice problems and you’ll get the hang of it,” Bai Qingyu said, reaching out to gently ruffle her hair, her voice soft and reassuring. “Once you’re familiar with this level of difficulty, you won’t panic if you encounter it on the exam.”

“Mm.” Song Yuehua offered Bai Qingyu a smile.

“Let’s go wait outside.” Bai Qingyu stood up and stretched. “I’ll definitely make up for my mistake of getting President Song scratched today. I promise to help improve your relationship with her.”

“Okay.” Song Yuehua stood up as well.

She’d come up with this excuse herself, now she had to see it through, no matter what.

The two of them waited on a bench near the entrance.

They sat on a street-side bench waiting for Song Yuelan. The Saturday streets were particularly lively, with pedestrians walking by in small groups, chatting and laughing.

Passersby couldn’t help but steal glances at Bai Qingyu. The women’s eyes were full of admiration and praise, while some men were different, their gazes lingered on Bai Qingyu with uncomfortable scrutiny, looking her up and down repeatedly.

Not far away, three young men approached with their arms slung over each other’s shoulders. One wearing a baseball cap was being shoved forward by his friends, who were urging, “Go on, she’s totally your type!” and “What are you afraid of? Just ask for her WeChat!”

Song Yuehua felt increasingly uncomfortable under those undisguised stares and quietly tugged at Bai Qingyu’s sleeve. “Senior, should we move somewhere else?”

Just as Bai Qingyu stood up following her lead, a burst of laughter erupted behind them. The boy in the baseball cap was shoved hard by his friends, stumbling forward and nearly crashing into Bai Qingyu.

“Watch out!” Song Yuehua was startled and instinctively moved to shield Bai Qingyu.

Fortunately, Bai Qingyu reacted quickly, taking half a step back. Her back lightly bumped against Song Yuehua’s arm, her face slightly pale as she subconsciously tightened her grip on Song Yuehua’s arm.

“Hahaha!” The boys behind them laughed even louder, half-heartedly calling out “Sorry!” while egging him on: “Go for it, don’t chicken out!”

After steadying himself, the boy in the cap flashed an embarrassed look but still managed a strained smile at Bai Qingyu, softening his tone deliberately. “H-hey, can I get your WeChat?” His eyes remained fixed on Bai Qingyu’s face, openly admiring her beauty.

“Sorry, I don’t give my WeChat to strangers.” Bai Qingyu pressed her lips together, shaking her head politely while tightening her hold on Song Yuehua’s arm.

The boy’s expression instantly darkened, likely feeling embarrassed in front of his friends. His tone turned sharper. “Come on, just add me. We can be friends, it’s no trouble.”

Bai Qingyu frowned slightly, looking troubled as she shrank behind Song Yuehua.

“She said she doesn’t want to. Didn’t you hear her?” Song Yuehua shielded Bai Qingyu behind her, raising her voice.

“Who are you? I was talking to her, none of your business!” The boy’s face flushed crimson with anger at being challenged, his voice suddenly rising as he looked at Song Yuehua with undisguised contempt. “What’s the big deal about adding me on WeChat? It’s not like it’ll kill you! Why act so high and mighty?”

He took half a step forward. Even though Bai Qingyu had already shrunk back, he acted as if he didn’t notice, curling his lips into what he thought was a charming smile as he wheedled, “Don’t be like that. My friends are all watching, just add me, okay? I’ll buy you bubble tea later.”

His tone was full of entitlement, as if Bai Qingyu refusing him was some great offense, completely disregarding her earlier statement about not adding strangers on WeChat.

Song Yuehua clenched her fists in anger, about to retort when several clear female voices suddenly chimed in from the side: “Hey! She already said no, can’t you understand?”

Turning to look, she saw three girls holding shopping bags standing nearby. The tall girl at the front frowned and said, “Harassing someone in broad daylight? Have you no shame?”

The girl with a ponytail added, “Can’t you see she’s scared? Why are you still crowding her? Is it so hard to respect women?”

“Exactly, how thick-skinned,” the third girl crossed her arms, her eyes full of mockery. “She clearly rejected you, yet you keep pestering her.”

The boy in the baseball cap hadn’t expected to be confronted by strangers. His arrogant expression froze instantly. He glanced back at his friends who had been egging him on earlier, they were now shrinking back, too afraid to speak.

Probably feeling humiliated in front of the girls, his face flushed and paled alternately, but he still stubbornly insisted, “We were just joking around. What’s it to you?”

“Joking? More like harassing!” The tall girl took a step forward, her tone hardening. “Should we call the police and let them decide?”

At that, the boy’s bravado completely deflated. His friends quickly pulled at him, urging, “Forget it, let’s just go.” Dragged backward, the boy shot them one last resentful glare before stumbling away, half-pushed and half-shoved by his companions.

Watching their retreating figures, the three girls finally relaxed and turned to Bai Qingyu and Song Yuehua with reassuring smiles. “Are you okay? Don’t pay any mind to people like that.”

“Thank you,” Bai Qingyu said gratefully, loosening her tight grip on Song Yuehua’s arm slightly.

“No need to thank us. You have to stand up to bullies!” The tall girl waved and walked off with her friends, laughing.

Song Yuehua watched them leave and sighed in relief before turning to Bai Qingyu. She couldn’t resist reaching out to gently squeeze her hand, her voice softening. “It’s okay now, they’re gone.”

“Mm,” Bai Qingyu responded softly, but her gaze unconsciously drifted to Song Yuehua’s hand hanging at her side. Her knuckles were still white from clenching, and her fingertips trembled slightly.

Something stirred in Bai Qingyu’s heart.

After spending so much time together, she had long figured out Song Yuehua’s current temperament: gentle, even a bit timid, usually content with the status quo, and never one to pick fights unless absolutely necessary.

That Song Yuehua who had stepped in front of her earlier, glaring and confronting the boy, she must have been scared, right?

Yet despite her fear, when Bai Qingyu was being cornered by a stranger, Song Yuehua had stepped forward almost without a second thought.

Even though her voice had been tight with tension, she had stubbornly planted herself firmly in front of Bai Qingyu, shielding her completely.

Sunlight filtered through the leaves, casting dappled shadows on Song Yuehua’s profile. She was still murmuring quietly, her eyes filled with concern. “Don’t be afraid. If they dare come back, I… I’ll protect you.”

Bai Qingyu watched her, clearly flustered but pretending to be tough, and found her earnestness incredibly endearing.

It felt as though something soft had gently bumped against her heart.