My Sweet Little Flower Turned Out to Be a Sinister Ghost - Chapter 17

“Senior, if only we could stay like this forever…”

Bai Qingyu gazed intently at Song Yuehua, her dark eyes holding an emotion Song Yuehua couldn’t decipher like a bottomless, chilly pond, deep and unfathomable.

Yet Song Yuehua felt no panic.

After all, Bai Qingyu would never harm her.

With that thought, she instinctively leaned slightly forward, tilting her upper body toward Bai Qingyu.

The collar of her summer outfit was loose, and her fair skin, rarely exposed to the sun, glowed like porcelain under the warm light of the tent lamp.

Following her movement, Bai Qingyu sat up, shifted closer, and leaned in, her hands braced on the air mattress.

Up close, there was no strange scent on Song Yuehua, only a familiar, comforting aroma, like warm water cupped in hands on a winter day, bringing warmth to the heart.

Unconsciously, Bai Qingyu drew even nearer, her nose almost brushing against Song Yuehua’s collarbone.

Song Yuehua’s eyelashes fluttered, her breath tightening as her chest rose and fell gently.

She lowered her gaze, watching Bai Qingyu’s approaching nose, the warmth of her breath grazing her neck like a feather, sending shivers of ticklish sensation through her.

Was there really an unpleasant smell? Had Bai Qingyu noticed and was carefully trying to identify it?

Song Yuehua’s heart raced, her fingers clutching tightly at the edge of her clothes.

Just then, Bai Qingyu suddenly lifted her gaze but didn’t move away, maintaining her forward-leaning posture.

Song Yuehua blinked, staring at her expression, nervously licking her lips.

The next moment, a faint smile spread in Bai Qingyu’s eyes, like spring water melting the surface of ice.

She lowered her head once more, giving a light sniff before straightening up and saying earnestly, “I’ve checked carefully, there’s no strange smell. In fact, I think your scent is quite pleasant.”

No sooner had she spoken than the sound of a chair shifting came from outside the tent.

Song Yuelan, having finished her work, had intended to stretch her legs. Lifting the flap of her side of the tent, she caught a glimpse of the scene inside:

Song Yuehua half-sitting, Bai Qingyu leaning over her, hands braced on either side, her head nearly buried in Song Yuehua’s chest, the two were so close it seemed like an intimate gesture.

“What are you two doing?” Song Yuelan’s voice rose sharply, laced with undisguised astonishment.

?!

Startled, Song Yuehua turned abruptly to look at her, instinctively sitting up straighter.

With Bai Qingyu already so close, the sudden movement brought them even nearer.

Bai Qingyu’s lips accidentally brushed against Song Yuehua’s collarbone, a warm touch grazing her skin.

“Mm…” Song Yuehua gasped softly, while Bai Qingyu quickly straightened up, her cheeks flushing crimson as if dotted with pink peach blossoms.

Flustered, she raised a hand to smooth her hair, tousled from leaning forward.

Only then did Song Yuehua belatedly realize how ambiguous their earlier position must have seemed. She glanced at Song Yuelan, who stood at the tent entrance, brows furrowed tightly, her expression dark as storm clouds, clearly misunderstanding the situation.

An inexplicable guilt washed over Song Yuehua. After all, according to the story’s setup, Song Yuelan and Bai Qingyu were the official pair. It seemed as though she had become the one “interfering.”

In the midst of the awkwardness, Bai Qingyu was the first to speak. Her voice still carried a hint of lingering embarrassment, though she tried to sound composed. “President Song, we weren’t doing anything. Yuehua asked me if there was any strange smell on her, so I leaned in to check.” She paused briefly before adding, her tone tinged with innocence, “Didn’t you say… you didn’t like the scent on Yuehua? She was just a little worried.”

Song Yuelan felt as if a ball of cotton had lodged in her throat, leaving her speechless and frustrated.

Who would have thought that a casual excuse would end up digging such a pit for herself?

To make matters worse, Bai Qingyu’s expression was earnest, her eyes slightly innocent, and what she said was undeniably true. Even if Song Yuelan wanted to vent her anger on Song Yuehua, she couldn’t find a reason.

Her face darkened instantly, her brows furrowing so tightly they could have crushed a mosquito. All thoughts of stretching her limbs vanished as she turned and strode toward her own area. Passing by the tent light, she slapped the switch off with a sharp “click,” as if venting her irritation on someone.

The warm yellow light vanished abruptly, plunging the tent back into darkness, where even the outlines of each other blurred into indistinct shapes.

Fortunately, the skylight remained open, allowing the cool moonlight to filter through the plastic sheet, casting a silvery frost-like glow on Song Yuehua and Bai Qingyu’s faces. They exchanged a glance, both wearing expressions of bewilderment, as if to say, “Is that it?”

Though Song Yuehua had abandoned her matchmaking intentions, she didn’t want to cause any rift between Bai Qingyu and Song Yuelan because of herself.

Song Yuelan’s temperament was deep and domineering, her words and actions exuding an unyielding “my way or the highway” attitude. Someone as naive and gentle as Bai Qingyu would surely suffer if she were to confront her directly.

Steadying herself, Song Yuehua said softly, “Forget it, let’s not mind her. Let’s just go to sleep.”

Bai Qingyu hesitated for a moment before nodding obediently and adjusting her position.

The last time Song Yuehua had shared a bed with someone was back in the orphanage, years ago.

Now, with soft breathing beside her, the familiar scent of laundry detergent lingering in the air, and a warm, cozy atmosphere enveloping her, she found herself unable to sleep. Instead, she lay awake, staring blankly at the stars through the skylight.

“Yuehua, are you asleep?” Bai Qingyu’s voice drifted over softly, gentle and tentative.

“Not yet,” Song Yuehua replied.

“Um…” Bai Qingyu hesitated, her voice laced with uncertainty. “You’re my good friend, and I want to tell you something. If you think it’s wrong, just pretend I never said it, and please don’t be angry with me.”

“What is it?” Song Yuehua turned to face her, and in the moonlight, she could see Bai Qingyu’s furrowed brows, delicate as willow leaves.

“Do you really still want to repair your relationship with President Song?” Bai Qingyu’s voice dropped even lower, as if afraid of being overheard. “I think… President Song doesn’t seem easy to sway. The way she treats you, if you keep trying to get close, I’m afraid you’ll only end up hurt.” Her face was clearly conflicted, as if worried her words might strike a nerve.

“Not easy to sway.” Song Yuehua inwardly scoffed. That was probably the most diplomatic way to put it.

Song Yuelan was utterly unyielding and seemed to take pleasure in saying things that left others speechless.

Before Song Yuehua could respond, Bai Qingyu quickly added, “Of course, if you still want to give it a try, I’ll definitely help you!”

“I don’t want to anymore,” Song Yuehua said, deliberately lowering her eyes to make her tone sound dejected. She let out a soft sigh. “The way she is, I don’t think repairing our relationship will ever work.”

Bai Qingyu reached out and gently patted her hand resting by her side. “It’s alright. You’re younger than me, so from now on, I’ll treat you like a little sister. If anything comes up, just tell me, I’ll help you.”

“Really?” Song Yuehua responded almost instantly.

She had always enjoyed being around Bai Qingyu and had longed for an older sister she could feel close to. This was truly a dream come true.

A soft “Mm” came from beside her, followed by gradually slowing breaths.

Song Yuehua gazed at the moonlight filtering through the skylight, listening to Bai Qingyu’s steady breathing, and felt a sense of calm settle over her.

The night breeze crept in through the gaps in the tent, carrying the faint scent of grass and leaves. This time, she didn’t toss and turn. Instead, lulled by the warmth beside her, she soon drifted into a deep sleep.

In the latter half of the night, Song Yuehua slept soundly. Half-awake, she felt a slight chill and murmured softly, turning over and shifting closer to Bai Qingyu before sinking back into her dreams.

By the time dawn broke, she was awakened by the chirping of birds.

The tent was bathed in the soft light of early morning. The stars in the skylight had long since faded, leaving only a pale, bluish-white sky.

Rubbing her eyes, she sat up and noticed the spot beside her was empty, with only a trace of lingering warmth.

“Senior?” she called out softly, but there was no response.

Just as she lifted the tent flap to step outside, she saw Bai Qingyu crouching not far away, washing something with her head bowed.

The morning light caught the tips of her hair, casting a soft golden glow around her. She had rolled up her sleeves, revealing her slender arms submerged in a basin of water, her movements brisk and efficient.

“Senior, you’re up so early?” Song Yuehua shuffled over in her slippers and crouched down beside her.

“Woke up early and thought I’d clean the gear from yesterday,” Bai Qingyu replied, turning to smile at her, a damp cloth still in her hand. “Why didn’t you sleep a bit longer?”

“The birds woke me up,” Song Yuehua said, plucking at a blade of grass nearby and swaying it gently. “What about Song Yuelan? Is she still busy with work?”

At the mention of Song Yuelan, Bai Qingyu paused briefly in her washing before replying softly, “She got up before dawn. Said there was an emergency at the company and told us to pack up and wait for her to pick us up. Or…” She turned to look at Song Yuehua, “if we wanted to stay a bit longer, she could send someone to get us after she’s done.”

Song Yuehua was taken aback. “She just left?”

“Yeah, she left in quite a hurry,” Bai Qingyu said, placing the cleaned items back in their proper place.

Song Yuehua pouted.

That was just like Song Yuelan, coming and going like a gust of wind, leaving no room for sentiment.

But then it occurred to her that without Song Yuelan around, she and Bai Qingyu could relax more freely.

“Then let’s not wait for her!” Song Yuehua’s eyes lit up. “Let’s go get breakfast first, and then explore the area. Look at that mountain over there, it looks like we could climb it!”

Bai Qingyu reached out and gently smoothed Song Yuehua’s sleep-tousled hair. “Sure, we’ll do as you say. But let’s pack up first.”

The two of them worked quickly, stowing the tent and equipment into the car Song Yuelan had left behind. After locking the doors, they headed toward the campsite exit.

Wildflowers lined both sides of the path, yellow and white blossoms dotted among the grass, swaying gently in the breeze.

“Senior, look!” Song Yuehua crouched down, plucked a small daisy, and tucked it behind Bai Qingyu’s ear. “So pretty!”

The morning light fell on Bai Qingyu’s profile. She was naturally beautiful, and when she smiled, the corners of her eyes curved like soft, wispy clouds.

The daisy petals, still glistening with morning dew, accentuated the faint pink of her earlobes. Even the stray strands of hair framing her face seemed softened by the gentle light, resting softly against her cheeks.

Bai Qingyu reached out and gently touched the petals, her eyes soft with a sweetness like melted sugar. “It looks lovely on you too,” she said, plucking another flower and tucking it into Song Yuehua’s hair.

The campsite was chosen for its scenic location, nestled near a small scenic area surrounded by scattered farm stays and little shops.

The two casually picked a clean and tidy farm stay to enter.

An old yellow ox was tethered in the yard, letting out a low “moo” as they approached.

The host brought two bowls of steaming porridge, garnished with specks of vibrant green scallions, along with freshly baked cornbread. The golden edges were crisp and fragrant, crumbling with every bite.

“Eat slowly, don’t choke,” Bai Qingyu said, noticing Song Yuehua devouring the cornbread eagerly, crumbs dotting the corners of her mouth.

“It’s just so delicious!” Song Yuehua mumbled through a mouthful, taking another big bite, her eyes sparkling. “This is seriously the best cornbread I’ve ever had! Ten times better than the ones from the breakfast shop downstairs!”

After breakfast, the two set off to climb the nearby hill.

The hill wasn’t steep, and the path was easy to navigate. Along the way, they spotted squirrels darting across tree trunks and heard the gentle rush of a mountain stream.

Halfway up, Song Yuehua was panting heavily, leaning against a tree and refusing to move another step.

“Let’s rest for a bit,” Bai Qingyu suggested, stopping as well and pulling a bottle of water from her bag to hand to her. “Look over there, you can see where we camped last night.”

Song Yuehua followed her gaze. The tent had already been packed away, and only the faint outline of their car parked by the roadside was visible.

Suddenly, she recalled Bai Qingyu’s words from the previous night about wanting to be like an older sister to her, and warmth spread through her chest.

“Senior,” she said, taking a breath of the cool mountain air and turning to look at Bai Qingyu, “Will you really treat me like a sister?”

Bai Qingyu, who had been gazing at the distant mountain silhouettes, turned her head. The light in her eyes was brighter than the morning sun filtering through the hills. “Of course.”

She reached out and ruffled Song Yuehua’s hair, her fingertips warm. “As long as you don’t mind having me around.”

“I’d never mind!” Song Yuehua shook her head emphatically, leaning in to hug her arm. “I like you the most, Senior!”

Sunlight bathed the two of them, and even the breeze carried a sweet, honeyed fragrance.

It wasn’t until noon that Song Yuelan finally sent someone to pick them up.

On the way back, Song Yuehua dozed off against Bai Qingyu’s shoulder, still clutching the little wildflowers she had picked earlier.

Bai Qingyu gently brushed aside the stray hairs tickling Song Yuehua’s face and gazed out the window at the passing trees, a soft smile lingering on her lips.

Song Yuehua never brought up matchmaking again, but the time she spent with Bai Qingyu only grew.

Sometimes, when Bai Qingyu worked the evening shift at the café, Song Yuehua would show up with her backpack, settling at a window table to do homework and waiting to walk home with her after her shift ended.

Other times, when Bai Qingyu went to the cat café to care for the kittens, Song Yuehua would tag along, clumsily helping to brush their fur. On nights when Bai Qingyu and her friends stayed up late coding, Song Yuehua would arrive with a thermal container of midnight snacks, thoughtfully bringing enough for all her friends.

Bai Qingyu always welcomed her with a smile, brewing her a special coffee she knew Song Yuehua loved, bringing cat food that worked well for Song Xiaomi at the cat café, and even creating detailed study plans for Song Yuehua.

One day, as Song Yuehua lay sprawled across the table watching Bai Qingyu grade her recently completed test paper, she suddenly murmured out of the blue, “Senior, I wish things could always be like this.”

Bai Qingyu’s hand stilled mid-mark, the tip of her pen hovering over the paper as a small blot of ink slowly spread across the page.

Her head was lowered, her eyes holding a determined glint that Song Yuehua couldn’t see: “It will.”

She added, “It will always be like this.”

Song Yuehua didn’t grasp the deeper meaning behind those words. These days, she had simply been too happy. So, she buried her face back into her arms and murmured vaguely, “Mm!”