My Sweet Little Flower Turned Out to Be a Sinister Ghost - Chapter 49

Song Yuehua’s gaze was fixed on Yang Xue in the distance, her fingers unconsciously tightening around the lace trim of her skirt.

Why had Bai Qingyu still ended up meeting Yang Xue?

The thought filled Song Yuehua with a sense of loss.

In this novel, there existed a character as popular as Song Yuelan, Yang Xue.

In terms of family background and appearance, Yang Xue was in no way inferior to Song Yuelan. Her personality was even more likable, and many readers had once hoped that Bai Qingyu would end up with her.

But Song Yuelan was more ruthless and unscrupulous, ultimately snatching Bai Qingyu away from Yang Xue.

As a cannon fodder side character who had met her end countless times, Song Yuehua felt deeply disheartened.

Could she really surpass someone so outstanding and stay by Bai Qingyu’s side?

Song Yuehua sighed quietly to herself.

Bai Qingyu moved closer to Song Yuehua, almost shielding her with her body. “President Yang, let me introduce you, this is Song Yuehua. She’s currently living with me.”

“Living together?” Yang Xue’s hand, holding the wine glass, paused mid-air. Her pupils contracted slightly, and the smile on her face froze for half a second.

She studied Song Yuehua, then glanced at Bai Qingyu’s arm pressed closely against her, before slowly regaining her composure. She smiled, a hint of surprise in her tone. “I thought a workaholic like you wouldn’t have the mind to find a roommate. It seems I was mistaken.”

She paused, the corners of her eyes lifting slightly as she shifted the topic. “Speaking of which, you’ve never brought friends to events like this before. This one… must be your girlfriend, right?”

G-girlfriend?

Song Yuehua had just regained her senses when she heard those shocking words.

Bai Qingyu didn’t deny it. Instead, she took Song Yuehua’s hand, her fingertips gently squeezing her palm as if to comfort her or perhaps to make a statement. “Since President Yang has been introduced, we won’t disturb you any further. Excuse us.”

“Hey? Don’t rush off.” Yang Xue took half a step forward to block their way, a glint of amusement flashing in her eyes. Her beautiful peach-blossom eyes curved into crescents as she blinked at Song Yuehua. “Stay and chat a little longer. I’m quite interested in this little cutie. Qingyu, you’ve been hiding her too well.”

Song Yuehua grew flustered under her gaze and instinctively shrank behind Bai Qingyu.

Her mind was still a tangled mess: Why was Yang Xue so interested in her? Why hadn’t Bai Qingyu clarified the misunderstanding about her being her “girlfriend”? What was she trying to do?

The faint smile on Bai Qingyu’s face vanished completely. Her brows lowered slightly, and a trace of coldness flickered imperceptibly in her eyes as she shot Yang Xue a warning glance.

“President Yang,” Bai Qingyu said, her arm naturally resting on Song Yuehua’s shoulder as if it were a habitual gesture, protective in its stance. “Yuehua is shy and isn’t used to chatting with people she isn’t familiar with. How about we discuss the unfinished collaboration from last time instead?”

Collaboration?

Yang Xue’s hand, still holding the wine glass, froze. Her temples throbbed instantly.

How could she have forgotten about that?

The last time she discussed collaboration with Bai Qingyu, she had appeared warm and smiling, yet she hadn’t yielded an inch during the negotiations. Even the profit-sharing plan she proposed had been subtly rejected. If she hadn’t gritted her teeth and compromised in the end, she would have suffered significant losses.

But then again, if the collaboration succeeded, she could seize a market share that Song Yuelan had been eyeing for a long time. In that light, a little “inconvenience” was nothing.

She gave a helpless smile, her gaze sweeping over Bai Qingyu shielding Song Yuehua, a hint of teasing in her eyes. “Alright, alright, you win.”

With that, she raised her wine glass and gestured vaguely toward Song Yuehua. “No work talk at the party. I have some matters to discuss with the organizers, so let’s catch up another time.” After speaking, she took a sip of red wine, turned, and walked away in her high heels.

Song Yuehua watched her figure disappear into the crowd before belatedly realizing her fingers had been intertwined with Bai Qingyu’s for so long without her noticing.

She abruptly withdrew her hand, her fingertips burning as if she had touched hot water. When she looked up, she met Bai Qingyu’s gaze, and the other woman quickly retracted her hand as well, the tips of her ears faintly reddening.

“You… why did you imply to President Yang that I was your…” Song Yuehua trailed off, lowering her eyes and not daring to look at her.

Bai Qingyu gently brushed the stray hairs behind her ear, avoiding her gaze as she replied in a deliberately casual tone, “President Yang likes to tease people she’s not familiar with. I said that just so she wouldn’t bother you. Besides, I only mentioned that you live with me, isn’t that the truth? The ‘girlfriend’ part was her own assumption.”

“Oh…” Song Yuehua lowered her eyes, masking a fleeting sense of disappointment.

She didn’t press further, instead changing the subject. “So, when did the collaboration you two discussed happen? I never heard you mention it.”

“It was back when Song Yuelan was causing trouble for the company,” Bai Qingyu said, deciding to only share part of the story. “Yang Xue and Song Yuelan are somewhat competitors. She approached me to collaborate on a small software project.”

Song Yuehua nodded.

In the novel, Yang Xue had extended a helping hand to Bai Qingyu during her most difficult times, but now it seemed like a mutually beneficial partnership. It appeared many things had changed.

As she was lost in thought, Bai Qingyu’s voice reached her again.

“What do you think of President Yang?” Bai Qingyu asked, a hint of displeasure in her tone as she noticed Song Yuehua still talking about Yang Xue. “If you want to chat with her more, I can give you her contact information later.”

“No need,” Song Yuehua quickly waved her hand. She was most wary of people like Yang Xue, who were overly sociable.

“Do you communicate with her often?” Song Yuehua asked, probing subtly.

“Only for work-related matters,” Bai Qingyu replied. “Why do you ask?”

“I’m afraid you might pick up bad habits from her,” Song Yuehua said.

Bai Qingyu chuckled softly. “Don’t worry. I never spare a second thought for anyone other than the person I like.” She looked directly into Song Yuehua’s eyes, as if making a solemn promise.

Song Yuehua’s ears instantly burned red. She hastily turned her head away, pretending to focus on the dessert table in the distance.

“Qingqing, I’m feeling a bit suffocated. I’d like to step out for some fresh air.”

The mingled scents of champagne and chatter in the banquet hall were gradually making Song Yuehua feel stifled.

“Alright, I’ll take you to the terrace. It’s quieter there.” With that, Bai Qingyu took her hand and led her toward the side door, picking up a cup of warm water from a passing server along the way.

Pushing open the glass door, they were greeted by a cool evening breeze that instantly dispelled the stuffiness indoors. The terrace was paved with dark wooden planks, with a few pots of blooming white jasmine arranged along the edges, their fragrance light and refreshing. In the distance, the city lights twinkled against the night sky.

“Wow, it’s so beautiful here,” Song Yuehua exclaimed as she walked to the edge of the terrace, leaning against the carved railing to look down. The evening breeze gently lifted the tulle of her evening gown, making it flutter like a butterfly’s wings. Just as she was about to turn and say something to Bai Qingyu, the soft strains of a piano melody drifted over to them.

It came from the white piano in the corner of the terrace.

A woman in a pale lavender gown sat before the piano, her fingertips dancing across the keys, producing a gentle and soothing melody. Song Yuehua listened, completely captivated, her eyes sparkling. “She plays so beautifully,” she murmured.

“If you like it, we can stay a little longer,” Bai Qingyu said, standing beside her and handing her a glass of warm water. “Be careful, the wind is strong.”

“Mhm.”

After the banquet ended, the car pulled into the residential complex. Song Yuehua leaned against the passenger seat, her face already pale.

Having spent half the evening on the terrace after the dinner, she had forced herself to appear steady when getting out of the car, but now, with her forehead pressed against the cool window, she felt utterly drained, barely having the strength to keep her eyes open.

“Yuehua?” Bai Qingyu parked the car and turned to see her listless state. She reached out to touch her forehead, and her fingertips immediately registered a scorching heat. “Why are you so feverish? Did you catch a chill on the terrace?”

Song Yuehua responded vaguely, trying to lift her hand to rub her temples, but Bai Qingyu gently held her wrist. “Don’t move. Let me help you inside.”

She unbuckled her seatbelt, walked around to the passenger side, and carefully helped Song Yuehua out of the car. The other woman’s body was limp, as if she had no strength left, leaning heavily on Bai Qingyu.

As soon as they entered the house, Bai Qingyu guided Song Yuehua to the sofa, then hurried to fetch a thermometer and wrapped her in a thick blanket. “Sit here for a moment. I’ll get some medicine.”

By the time the thermometer was tucked under her arm, Song Yuehua had regained a bit of clarity, watching Bai Qingyu bustling around the living room.

“38.5°C, you have a bit of a fever,” Bai Qingyu said, frowning at the reading. She handed Song Yuehua a glass of warm water and some fever-reducing medicine. “Take this first. I’ll make you some ginger tea to help you sweat it out.”

Song Yuehua took the cup and whispered, “I’ll be fine after some sleep.”

“Don’t be silly,” Bai Qingyu replied, ruffling her hair gently. “Wait until I finish making the ginger tea. Don’t fall asleep yet, the medicine takes about half an hour to work.”

Soon, the aroma of ginger and brown sugar wafted from the kitchen. Before long, Bai Qingyu returned with a bowl of ginger tea, blowing on it lightly before handing it over. “It’s a bit hot, drink it slowly.” Song Yuehua took the bowl and sipped cautiously.

The spicy warmth of the ginger, mingled with the sweetness of the brown sugar, slid down her throat, spreading a comforting heat in her stomach and easing the chill in her body.

After she finished the ginger tea, Bai Qingyu brought a damp towel, wrung it out, and placed it on her forehead. “This will help bring the fever down faster.”

She sat on the nearby sofa, not too far away, occasionally reaching out to check Song Yuehua’s forehead, ensuring the fever hadn’t risen again.

Song Yuehua leaned back against the sofa, her eyelids growing heavier. In her drowsiness, she felt someone adjust the blanket and gently tuck in the edges.

When she woke again, the sky was beginning to lighten. A soft quilt covered her, and the towel on her forehead had been replaced with a fresh one.

On the nightstand, a shallow glass held warm water, with a light beige note tucked beneath it.

“I’ve already requested leave for you. If the fever persists, call me.”

Song Yuehua picked up the note, her fingertips pressing it lightly against her chest.

She pushed back the covers and got out of bed, opening the refrigerator to take out a packet of shrimp dumplings. She filled a pot halfway with water, turned the heat to low, and waited for it to boil.

As the water began to bubble softly, she heard a soft “meow” at her feet.

Song Xiaomi had crept over at some point and was now nudging her leg with its head.

Song Yuehua bent down and picked it up, saying, “I’m fine now, Xiaomi.”

Xiaomi purred softly, rubbing its face against her chin and gently wrapping its tail around her wrist.

Soon, the dumplings floated to the surface. She scooped them out with a strainer, placed them in a small porcelain bowl, and added a splash of rice vinegar. Just as she was about to eat, the doorbell suddenly rang.