My Sweet Little Flower Turned Out to Be a Sinister Ghost - Chapter 72 [END]

Song Yuehua hastily set down her things and rushed toward the bedroom, hoping to make one last desperate attempt.

“Wait, that… that instruction manual isn’t in the bedroom… right?” Before she could finish her sentence, Song Yuehua had already reached the bedroom door. There, she saw Bai Qingyu standing by the bedside table, flipping through a thin booklet. The bottom drawer was securely closed, showing no signs of having been touched.

Bai Qingyu’s expression was calm, her eyes betraying no hint of anything unusual, as if she had simply found the instruction manual elsewhere and was earnestly studying the operating steps. Hearing Song Yuehua’s voice, she looked up, a trace of appropriate confusion in her eyes. “What’s wrong?”

“N-nothing!” Song Yuehua swallowed hard, forcing a composed smile. “Glad you found it, glad you found it. I was worried you wouldn’t be able to.”

She thought hopefully to herself, Maybe Qingqing found the manual somewhere else and didn’t open the bottom drawer after all.

“Mm, I’ve already figured it out. I know how to operate it now,” Bai Qingyu said, closing the manual and casually placing it on the nearby shelf.

Song Yuehua glanced at the manual on the shelf, feeling even more certain of her guess. Her anxious heart finally settled, and a look of eager anticipation returned to her face, her eyes sparkling. “That’s great! I’ve got snacks and drinks ready over there. We can start right away!”

“Mm.” Bai Qingyu walked over to Song Yuehua and said, “But I picked out a horror movie.”

“Ah? A horror movie?” Song Yuehua’s smile froze, and she instinctively shrank back, reluctant to watch.

“Don’t worry, I’m here,” Bai Qingyu said with a serious expression. “Besides, the more you watch and practice, the braver you’ll become. Once you’re braver, you’ll be able to experience many more interesting things in the future.”

“You’re right.” Song Yuehua understood Bai Qingyu’s thoughtful intentions and nodded.

“Then I’ll go up first. I’ll be waiting for you.” A faint smile touched Bai Qingyu’s lips. She gently pinched Song Yuehua’s earlobe before leaving, her steps light and cheerful, clearly in high spirits.

Watching her retreating figure, Song Yuehua felt a sweet warmth in her heart, assuming Bai Qingyu was just as excited to watch the movie with her.

Carrying a tray of snacks, she made her way upstairs. At the end of the hallway, a door stood slightly ajar, the room inside as dark as if a thick blob of ink had been smeared across it. Only a few strands of cold, pale light seeped through the crack, casting slender, bright lines on the floor.

So, this is the viewing room, she thought.

The room was not large. On one of the windowless walls hung a projection screen that took up half the wall, while the opposite wall featured an L-shaped velvet sofa piled with several round, plush toys.

In front of the sofa stood a low wooden table, with a light brown short-pile rug spread beneath it. Beside the table, a large fiddle-leaf fig plant stretched its broad leaves in a floor pot.

Although the evening temperature wasn’t as high as during the day, staying in the room for too long still made it feel warm.

The entire villa had central air conditioning, but Bai Qingyu hadn’t turned it on. Instead, she had opened the ventilation windows on two walls. The night breeze slipped in, causing the dark linen curtains to billow and then gently fall back.

The projector was already on. Bai Qingyu sat on the sofa and, seeing Song Yuehua slowly entering with her things, quickly stood up to help.

“Wow, this is amazing.” Song Yuehua spun around in a circle, taking in the novelty of her surroundings.

She sat down on the sofa and bounced a couple of times, sinking into the soft velvet before it sprang back, cradling her entire body. “This sofa is even more comfortable than the one in the bedroom!”

Plush toys were neatly arranged against the wall, and squeezed between them were two cushion-like blankets.

Song Yuehua leaned back, resting the back of her head on a cushion and stretching out her limbs as she sighed contentedly. “I feel like if I lie down here, I could sleep straight through till morning.”

Seeing Song Yuehua so relaxed, Bai Qingyu asked, “I’m glad you like it. Shall we start the movie now?”

“Mm-hmm.” Song Yuehua pressed her lips together nervously.

The movie began slowly.

Song Yuehua breathed a sigh of relief, thankfully, it wasn’t a domestic horror film.

The story took place on a remote farm abroad, where the female protagonist cared for her bedridden, ill father while enduring her mother’s strict control and emotional abuse.

At first, Song Yuehua still had the presence of mind to reach for some potato chips.

But as the story progressed, the female protagonist grew increasingly obsessive in her pursuit of becoming a singer. This singular hope in her mind drove the film toward its climax.

The movie provided numerous shots hinting at the female protagonist’s descent into darkness, heightened by the background music, allowing the audience to anticipate the moments when she was about to kill.

Song Yuehua sensed it too. She put the chips aside, curled up, and scooted closer to Bai Qingyu, pressing her shoulder tightly against the other’s arm, even curling her toes.

Her eyes were wide open, fixed on the screen. Though fear made her fingertips cold, she couldn’t look away. The tension of her heart hanging in the air, mixed with the warmth of the person beside her, created a strange sense of “addiction” she wanted to close her eyes but couldn’t resist watching.

When the female protagonist brutally killed the projectionist with an iron pitchfork, Song Yuehua stiffened, shrinking violently into Bai Qingyu’s embrace. Her body trembled uncontrollably, and her breath hitched for a moment.

Bai Qingyu regretted her choice. “Maybe we should stop watching?”

“No.” Song Yuehua lifted her head from Bai Qingyu’s chest, the corners of her eyes still tinged with fright, but she shook her head with determination. “Let’s keep watching. I want to see it through.”

It seemed she was beginning to understand the appeal of horror films.

Even though the scary scenes still terrified her, Song Yuehua pressed closer and closer to Bai Qingyu.

As the movie continued, Song Yuehua leaned in even more, almost half of her body resting against Bai Qingyu.

But sitting side by side still left a bit of distance between them. She wanted to bury herself entirely in the other’s embrace but felt too shy to say it outright. Taking advantage of a calmer scene where the female protagonist was cleaning up, she glanced up at Bai Qingyu and blinked, like a kitten asking to be petted.

“Want to sit in my lap?” Bai Qingyu instantly understood Song Yuehua’s meaning.

Song Yuehua nodded eagerly, like a little bird pecking at rice.

The sofa was spacious to begin with, long enough for two people to lie down and wide enough to serve as a temporary bed with room to spare.

Bai Qingyu smiled and shifted back slightly, parting her legs to make space in the middle. Song Yuehua quickly pushed herself up from the sofa and carefully settled into the spot. As soon as she adjusted her position, Bai Qingyu’s arms wrapped around her from behind, firmly encircling her waist. She rested her chin on Song Yuehua’s shoulder, her nose brushing against the warm skin of her neck.

Song Yuehua shivered slightly but was soon drawn back into the movie.

The evening breeze continued to stream in through the window.

As the movie ended, the curtains were still fluttering, and the leaves of the potted plants rustled softly in the wind.

“Shall we go back to the room?” Bai Qingyu whispered close to Song Yuehua’s ear.

“Mhm.”

“Can you stand up?” Bai Qingyu gently pinched the soft flesh at her waist.

Song Yuehua flinched away from the touch, shyly turning her head to the other side and burying her face in the crook of Bai Qingyu’s arm. Her voice was muffled, almost like a whimper: “My legs feel weak, I can’t get up.” The fear and tension from earlier had left her limbs numb now that she’d relaxed.

Bai Qingyu chuckled softly. “I’ll carry you.”

She pushed herself up from the couch first, then leaned over, one arm slipping securely behind Song Yuehua’s knees while the other supported her back. With a gentle lift, she effortlessly scooped her up into a bridal carry.

Song Yuehua quickly wrapped her arms around Bai Qingyu’s neck, pressing her face into the curve of her shoulder, breathing in her familiar scent.

Bai Qingyu’s hold was remarkably steady, her steps unwavering as she carried her downstairs, across the moonlit living room, and finally laid her gently on the soft bed in the bedroom.

Just as she straightened up to leave, a hand lightly grasped her wrist.

“Where are you going?” Song Yuehua’s voice trembled slightly, still shaken from the scare. Her eyes glistened with unshed tears, like a fledgling bird just returned to its nest.

“I’m going to tidy up the viewing room.”

“When will you be back?”

“Five minutes.”

“Alright.” Song Yuehua pulled the blanket over herself, wrapping it tightly around her body as if seeking security, only her glistening eyes peeking out to watch Bai Qingyu.

Bai Qingyu felt a complicated, indescribable emotion stirring inside her.

She ached seeing Song Yuehua so frightened by the horror movie, yet she couldn’t help but cherish this unreserved dependence.

She cleaned up the room as quickly as possible.

The moment the door cracked open, a figure leaped from the bed and threw herself into her arms, enveloping her in a cloud of fragrance. Song Yuehua’s arms tightened around her waist, her face buried in Bai Qingyu’s chest, refusing to look up. Her back still trembled slightly with lingering emotion.

“You’re back.”

“Get back into bed.” Bai Qingyu patted Song Yuehua’s bottom.

Song Yuehua clung to her without a word.

Bai Qingyu sighed with a mix of helplessness and affection, then bent down to scoop her up by the legs and tumbled them both back onto the bed.

“Scared out of your wits?” Bai Qingyu brushed her fingers over Song Yuehua’s forehead.

“A little.” Song Yuehua buried her face against Bai Qingyu’s collarbone. “The people in the movie were so pitiful. The female lead was driven mad, and her mother also…”

Bai Qingyu gently stroked her hair without replying. She understood Song Yuehua’s kindness, how she always empathized with others’ suffering, yet never let herself drown in it. It was this very tenderness that made Bai Qingyu’s heart ache for her.

After a long while, Song Yuehua’s body gradually relaxed. She shifted slightly, as if embarrassed, and tried to pull away from Bai Qingyu’s embrace. But the moment she lifted herself up, Bai Qingyu wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her back into the warm hold.

“Using me and then tossing me aside?” Bai Qingyu rested her chin on Song Yuehua’s head, her tone deliberately pitiful, while her fingers lightly pinched her waist.

“N-no, that’s not it.” Song Yuehua’s ears flushed crimson instantly, her voice as faint as a mosquito’s hum. “It’s just… I want to sleep.”

“Even if you want to sleep, you have to give me a kiss first.” Bai Qingyu stated bluntly, her fingers gently tilting Song Yuehua’s chin up so their eyes met. Her gaze was filled with unresolvable warmth.

At those words, Song Yuehua knew sleep would have to wait a while longer.

Moreover, she couldn’t evade it, Bai Qingyu always had a way of making her come to him willingly. Resigned, she stopped being coy and proactively tilted her head up, pressing her soft lips gently against Bai Qingyu’s.

The warmth and softness offered so willingly deepened the smile in Bai Qingyu’s eyes. She immediately took control, intensifying the kiss as her tongue pried open the other’s lips.

Over the past few days, Bai Qingyu had been slowly wearing down Song Yuehua’s resistance, like boiling a frog in warm water. Song Yuehua had long lost any aversion to intimacy below the neck, only blushing silently in acquiescence. Only the final step remained.

But Bai Qingyu also knew that the final step was the hardest. She hadn’t expected Song Yuehua to take the initiative and buy finger cots. Since the little fool had willingly handed over the leverage, Bai Qingyu saw no reason to hold back.

It was only when she was dazed from the kiss that Song Yuehua sensed something amiss. Usually, when they kissed, Bai Qingyu would grow impatient within half a minute, provoked by her delayed responses, and seize control, leaving her to follow weakly. But tonight, Bai Qingyu was unusually patient, her tongue slowly tracing the seam of Song Yuehua’s lips.

Song Yuehua felt as if she were soaking in a warm spring at a constant temperature, her eyes glazed with a misty haze. Bai Qingyu’s hands weren’t idle either, her palm rested against Song Yuehua’s waist, rubbing slowly, her fingertips occasionally pinching the soft flesh, sending shivers through Song Yuehua’s body.

Only when Song Yuehua’s gaze grew completely hazy did Bai Qingyu’s kisses gradually drift downward, nibbling gently and leaving faint red marks.

Song Yuehua felt as if all the strength had been drained from her body, sinking limply into the latex mattress, unable to even lift a hand.

Suddenly, a strange sensation washed over her. A flicker of panic crossed her muddled gaze, and her brows furrowed slightly.

Before she could react, she was enveloped in warmth and softness. Instinctively, she raised her hands to push away, but her palms only met smooth strands of hair.

Bai Qingyu had shifted positions at some point, and Song Yuehua’s feeble strength was no match for her, like a mantis trying to stop a chariot.

Unable to push her away, Song Yuehua gave up resisting, her hands clutching the bedsheet beside her, twisting the fabric into crumpled folds.

When it was finally over, Song Yuehua stared blankly at the ceiling, her chest heaving as she gasped for breath, her body still trembling uncontrollably.

She wanted to open her mouth and confront Bai Qingyu, but her throat felt blocked, unable to utter a single word. Her mind went blank, filled only with a buzzing echo.

A soft click sounded, followed by the distinct rustle of a plastic bag being torn open. Song Yuehua turned her head stiffly, like a rusty robot.

There it was, the secret she thought had gone unnoticed.

Bai Qingyu had already tied her long hair into a ponytail, fine beads of sweat glistening at her temples, her lips moist.

Her hands were still damp, but she paid no mind, leisurely slipping the object on.

Song Yuehua’s brain short-circuited.

Only one thought remained in her mind.

It’s over.

“W-wait…”

Her voice trembled as she attempted one last futile struggle.

But upon hearing that soft, watery voice, Bai Qingyu’s gaze grew even darker and more intense. Her throat moved as she spoke in a hoarse tone, “Didn’t you buy this? Let’s not waste it.”

It’s not like it expires!

Before Song Yuehua could say anything more, Bai Qingyu acted as if she had received a royal decree, her warm breath spreading across Song Yuehua’s neck.

Song Yuehua, already weak and limp, had no strength left to resist.

She was at a loss, isolated and helpless with no one to come to her aid. With reddened eyes and a trembling voice, she pleaded softly with the person tormenting her.

But the one who tormented her merely lowered their head and soothingly kissed her lips, their tongue gently tracing the curve of her mouth. Yet, the pressure did not lessen in the slightest, instead, it grew heavier and heavier.

…

As the horizon gradually lightened to the pale hue of dawn, the morning glow seeped through the gaps in the curtains, casting a soft light into the room. Only then did Song Yuehua briefly emerge from her dazed state. Beneath her, everything was clean and dry, without any trace of stickiness or discomfort, clearly, Bai Qingyu had carried her to wash up.

Bai Qingyu lay asleep beside her, looking like a child in need of reassurance.

Her long hair was loosely spread across the pillow, a few stray strands clinging to her temples, obscuring the sharpness that usually defined her brows and eyes, leaving only a soft outline.

Her eyelashes, long and thick, rested like two delicate little fans, trembling faintly with each even breath, softening even the faint shadows beneath her eyes. Her nose was straight and elegant, the tip tinged with a natural pink, and her lower lip was slightly fuller than the upper, now pressed gently together.

She lay on her side, her arm still loosely encircling the pillow beside her, her fingertips unconsciously brushing against the pillowcase as if still searching for a familiar warmth.

The usually crisp and upright line of her shoulders now relaxed and sloped downward, the imposing aura that typically surrounded her completely dissipated, leaving only a gentle vulnerability, as if all defenses had been stripped away.

As the morning light drifted in, it fell upon her wrist, exposed outside the blanket, revealing faint blue veins pulsing softly with her heartbeat, a fragile sight that stirred compassion.

Song Yuehua’s heart softened at the sight.

Now, nothing stood in their way anymore. They would live happily.

Summoning her strength, she lifted her hand and gently tucked the stray strands of Bai Qingyu’s hair behind her ear, then pressed a tender kiss to her smooth forehead.

Having done this, she nestled back into Bai Qingyu’s warm embrace. Her eyelids grew heavy, and accompanied by the gradually clearer chirping of birds outside the window, she drifted back into a deep sleep.

[The End]