My Sweet Little Flower Turned Out to Be a Sinister Ghost - Chapter 33.1

Bai Qingyu leaned in gently, bringing her face close to Song Yuehua, who was lost in thought. The stray strands of hair at her forehead brushed against Song Yuehua’s ear, causing a faint, ticklish sensation.

Song Yuehua, lost in an embarrassing fantasy, was abruptly pulled back to reality by that tingling feeling. As she lifted her gaze, her eyes met Bai Qingyu’s.

Their noses were almost touching, separated by no more than three centimeters. The warmth of each other’s breath was palpable, and Song Yuehua’s breathing hitched for a moment, her ears burning as if about to burst into flames.

She hurriedly lowered her eyes, only to catch a glimpse of Bai Qingyu’s lips.

They looked soft, with a delicate pink hue, and seemed warm. Song Yuehua’s eyelashes fluttered uncontrollably, her heart pounding so fiercely it felt like it might break through her chest. Instinctively, she took a small step back.

“Hmm?” Bai Qingyu watched her flustered expression. “Do you really not want to come to my company?”

Song Yuehua pressed her lips into a thin line, her eyes darting around, not daring to look at Bai Qingyu again. Her voice was as faint as a mosquito’s hum: “I… I want to.”

“I didn’t quite catch that.” Bai Qingyu leaned in a little closer, feigning seriousness. “Could you speak a little louder?”

Song Yuehua bit her lower lip, as if mustering every ounce of courage she had. She abruptly lifted her head to look at Bai Qingyu, her cheeks flushed a deep crimson. Her voice was slightly louder than before, though still trembling: “I-I want to go!”

“Then it’s settled.” Bai Qingyu straightened up. “After the New Year, you’ll come to work with me.”

Song Yuehua’s eyes sparkled, and the corners of her lips curled upward uncontrollably.

“But…” Bai Qingyu suddenly drew out her words, her fingertip lightly tapping her chin as her gaze swept over Song Yuehua’s face, as if contemplating something.

Song Yuehua grew a little uneasy under her scrutiny. She tilted her head, her eyes filled with confusion. “Senior, what’s wrong?”

Before she could react, Bai Qingyu suddenly reached out, her palm cool against Song Yuehua’s skin as she gently cupped her face.

Her thumb brushed against the soft flesh of Song Yuehua’s cheek, pressing just firmly enough to make the plump skin bulge slightly between her fingers, like a round little bun.

Song Yuehua’s body stiffened instantly, but her eyes remained fixed on Bai Qingyu’s face, filled with bewilderment and an unmistakable sense of dependence, like a kitten held tenderly in its owner’s hands.

Bai Qingyu watched her expression, a flicker of something dark passing through her eyes as her throat moved slightly.

The thread of restraint in her heart seemed to have been gently plucked. She couldn’t help but wonder: if she went a little further, would Song Yuehua resist?

“Yuehua, have all your troubles been resolved?” Bai Qingyu asked.

Song Yuehua’s pupils dilated sharply, and she even forgot to breathe. She nodded, feeling the heat in her cheeks intensify.

The next moment, Bai Qingyu’s thumb gently landed beneath her eye, tracing the faint red marks left by her earlier tears with a touch of tenderness.

Had she noticed after all?

“Song Yuehua.” Bai Qingyu’s expression suddenly lost its usual softness, her tone turning firm.

“Mmm…” With her cheeks still cupped, Song Yuehua’s words came out muffled, as if she were holding a candy in her mouth. She could only manage a soft hum in response.

“You’ve been very disobedient.” Bai Qingyu’s voice remained as gentle as ever.

But the words she spoke gave that gentleness an entirely different flavor.

Song Yuehua shook her head from side to side, her cheek gently pinched by Bai Qingyu’s fingertips, making her words come out in a muffled, breathy tone: “I didn’t… I didn’t mean to…” She raised her hand and lightly grasped Bai Qingyu’s wrist, signaling her to let go so she could speak clearly.

Bai Qingyu didn’t release her. Instead, she gently lifted Song Yuehua’s chin, preventing her from looking away. Her eyes held a seriousness that brooked no evasion: “Why didn’t you tell me when you were upset? Didn’t we agree to share our burdens?” Her tone carried a palpable sense of disappointment as she finished speaking.

Song Yuehua obediently looked up at her.

Her eyes shone like glass beads dipped in water, clear and bright, reflecting only Bai Qingyu’s image without a trace of anything else.

Bai Qingyu’s heart softened under that gaze. She took a deep breath and slowly released her hold.

“Sorry, I was a bit impulsive just now,” she said, her voice filled with sincere regret, though her hands, hanging at her sides, subtly rubbed together where Song Yuehua couldn’t see.

The soft warmth of Song Yuehua’s cheek still lingered on her fingertips, like touching a wisp of cloud.

“It’s alright,” Song Yuehua instinctively raised her hand to touch her own cheek. As her fingers brushed her skin, she could faintly catch the light, clean scent that clung to Bai Qingyu, and the tips of her ears turned pink. “I know you were just worried about me.”

She opened her mouth, wanting to explain her longing for the headmistress, but the words caught in her throat.

The headmistress was someone from her original world, a person who didn’t even exist in this place.

“I… I just suddenly missed someone very much. I couldn’t help it…” Song Yuehua said vaguely.

Bai Qingyu was taken aback. So, it wasn’t about money, it was about missing someone. That reason seemed even more complicated than financial troubles.

“Is it hard to see her again?” Bai Qingyu asked.

“Yeah… I don’t know if I’ll ever get the chance,” Song Yuehua replied dejectedly, nodding.

Unsure how to comfort her, Bai Qingyu leaned forward, gently wrapping her arms around Song Yuehua and pulling her into an embrace. She held her close, one hand softly patting her shoulder. “It’s okay. Maybe one day, you’ll suddenly see each other again? Maybe she’s secretly missing you too.”

Song Yuehua stiffened for a second, then slowly raised her arms to hug her back, burying her face in the crook of Bai Qingyu’s shoulder. Her voice, muffled by the fabric, was soft and still carried a hint of a nasal tone: “Mm… I hope you’re right.”

“Will you tell me first if something’s bothering you from now on?” Bai Qingyu said gently.

Song Yuehua nodded lightly against her shoulder, her forehead brushing against Bai Qingyu. “Okay, I’ll tell you everything from now on.”

…

The chill in the air grew heavier with each passing day. Red lanterns were already hanging by the streetlights at the corner, and stacks of Spring Festival couplets and “Fu” character decorations piled up outside the supermarket, the Spring Festival was drawing near.

Bai’s mother had recovered remarkably well. The fatigue left by her earlier surgery had completely faded, and she was now full of energy. Every morning, she went to the market with Aunt Qin from next door to buy groceries. Not long ago, she had even taken on a part-time clerical job in the community, helping to organize resident records. Busy as she was, she seemed more vibrant than when she had been resting at home.

Since her new company hadn’t yet opened, Song Yuehua spent her winter break at home, preparing for a certification exam.

By chance, Qin Zhen discovered this and invited her to study together, suggesting she could also help tutor them. However, Bai Qingyuan vetoed the idea, reasoning that adults and minors have different study habits and it would be better to study separately.

Song Yuehua also found this reasonable and chimed in with a few words of agreement.

Thus, Qin Zhen had no choice but to drop the matter.

Nevertheless, Qin Zhen truly enjoyed seeking out Song Yuehua to hang out, even reducing the time she spent with Bai Qingyuan. As a result, every time Qin Zhen came looking for Song Yuehua, Bai Qingyuan would trail along like a little shadow.

On the eve of their shopping trip, Song Yuehua messaged Bai Qingyu to ask if she wanted to go shopping together.

She knew that although Bai Qingyu wasn’t going to the office, she wasn’t idle at home either.

Once, Song Yuehua had caught a glimpse of what was on Bai Qingyu’s computer but hadn’t understood any of it.

So, when she asked, she felt a bit uneasy, worried she might be disturbing her.

Unexpectedly, within two minutes of sending the message, Bai Qingyu replied: [Sure, I’ll wait for you tomorrow at 9 a.m.]

Staring at those two words, Song Yuehua instantly jumped up from her chair, nearly knocking over the insulated cup on the desk.

She rushed into her bedroom, opened the wardrobe, and rummaged through it for an outfit to wear the next day. But after searching for a long time, she couldn’t find anything that satisfied her. Frowning at her reflection in the mirror, she muttered, “Seems like it’s time to buy new clothes.”

Finally, her gaze settled on a white trench coat tucked away in the corner of the wardrobe, the last time she’d worn it, Bai Qingyu had complimented her.

Although the fabric was thin and she’d definitely feel cold wearing it now, Song Yuehua hesitated for a few seconds before gritting her teeth and pulling it out. She secretly layered a thin sweater underneath, reassuring herself, “If I walk fast, it shouldn’t feel too cold.”

When they met, Bai Qingyu’s eyes immediately landed on Song Yuehua, pausing for a moment.

The pale white trench coat was made of thin fabric, its hem swaying lightly with the breeze, and even her exposed wrists took on a chilly pallor.

“It’s several degrees below zero outside. Wearing something so thin will make you freeze,” Bai Qingyu said, quickly stepping closer. Her fingertips lightly brushed the sleeve of the trench coat, and the cold touch made her frown even more deeply.

“It’s fine, I’m not cold,” Song Yuehua insisted, pursing her lips stubbornly while secretly clenching the hem of her coat. Her ears, however, flushed red with guilt. In truth, she’d felt cold the moment she changed into the outfit, but the thought of looking good made her endure it.

Although Bai Qingyu didn’t want to interfere too much with Song Yuehua’s choices, she was genuinely worried she might catch a cold in that outfit.

So, softening her tone, she suggested tactfully, “How about we bring a thick coat in our bag? If you feel cold while we’re out, you can change into it right away.”

Already feeling uncertain, Song Yuehua thought for a moment and nodded in agreement: “…Alright.” She was also afraid of actually catching a cold and causing trouble later.

Bai Qingyu turned and went back inside, soon emerging with a transparent garment bag containing a pink puffer jacket. The fluffy fabric, with its collar trimmed in pale white faux fur, looked incredibly warm.

At the sight of the jacket, Song Yuehua’s expression fell slightly, and the corners of her mouth drooped. “Maybe… a different one?”

“This one is the warmest. Feel it,” Bai Qingyu said, holding the jacket out and poking the fabric with her fingertip. “It’s filled with white duck down, much warmer than other coats.”

Seeing no way out, Song Yuehua reluctantly accepted it: “…Fine.”

As soon as she stepped out of the apartment building, a gust of cold wind hit her face like tiny knives. Song Yuehua shivered instantly, instinctively pulling her trench coat tighter and shrinking her neck. Her teeth even began to chatter lightly.

“Yuehua, want to change?” Bai Qingyu handed her a bag containing a down jacket.

“Yes! Yes!” Song Yuehua’s voice trembled from the cold as she quickly took off her trench coat and put on the pink down jacket. Once she zipped it up, she immediately felt warmth spreading through her body, and even her previously frozen fingers gradually regained sensation.