The Post-Apocalyptic Rival Who Crashed My Wedding with a Baby - Chapter 19.2

Fortunately, the sound of the toddler calling for “Mama” rescued Jiang Weiqing from her crushing embarrassment.

As the toddler watched Shen Qingyu emerge, she waved her hands excitedly, stuck out her tongue, and chirped, “Green! Green!”

Shen Qingyu’s expression shifted instantly. She turned a frigid gaze toward Jiang Weiqing and demanded, “What did you do to her!”

Caught off guard by the intensity of the reaction, Jiang Weiqing quickly explained, “I just gave her a color-changing candy.” She hurriedly opened her palm to reveal a green sweet. “Her tongue changes color when she eats it. She seemed to really like it.”

Shen Qingyu frowned, leaning in to catch a faint, slightly sour scent from the child’s mouth. Only after spotting the candy wrapper in the trash did she let out a sigh of relief. On the nightstand, alongside several gift boxes, a small mountain of snacks had appeared.

Trying her best to ignore the previous awkwardness, Jiang Weiqing added tentatively, “I also brought her chocolate, lollipops, marshmallows…”

She was cut off mid-sentence by Shen Qingyu’s blunt dismissal. “Thank you, but she doesn’t eat junk food.”

The toddler blinked, looking up at Shen Qingyu with confusion as if asking why. Shen Qingyu patted her head. “Junk food is unhealthy. You’re too little to eat it.” As she spoke, she reached out to take the remains of the color-changing candy from the child’s mouth.

To her surprise, the toddler—apparently a natural—bit down. Her tiny milk teeth crunched the candy into fragments. “I am junk,” she babbled around the pieces. “I love it.” Her eyes remained fixed on the snacks on the nightstand as she tried to wiggle her way toward them.

The sight was so ridiculous that Jiang Weiqing couldn’t help but burst out laughing, only to be met with Shen Qingyu’s cold snort. “What’s so funny? Take your junk food and get out.”

The child’s diet was Shen Qingyu’s red line; she meticulously balanced her nutrition, often avoiding seasonings altogether. Seeing Jiang Weiqing jump straight to feeding her “trash” was infuriating. Jiang Weiqing was exactly the same as she had always been.

Realizing she had overstepped, Jiang Weiqing watched the toddler stubbornly drool over a lollipop wrapper and promised, “I’ll make sure she breaks the habit immediately.”

Shen Qingyu stared at her coldly. If you hadn’t taken it upon yourself to feed her that stuff, would she have a habit to break?

Sensing the mood, Jiang Weiqing took the lollipop from the child and forced a bright smile. “Baby, this is junk food. It doesn’t taste good.”

The toddler looked confused, then thought back to the stimulating flavor she’d just experienced. She turned her head away, slapped Jiang Weiqing’s hand, and muttered, “Liar.”

Jiang Weiqing let out a dry laugh. “You’re a tough one to trick, aren’t you?” Noticing Shen Qingyu’s gaze getting even colder, she coughed and tried again. “But it’s bad for you. You’re too small; it’ll give you a tummy ache.”

The toddler looked bewildered. “But I am a junk child.” (Logic: If I’m a junk child, shouldn’t I eat junk food?)

Jiang Weiqing broke a sweat; she could read the logic perfectly in those eyes. “You are a baby,” she corrected.

The child nodded solemnly. “I am a junk baby.”

Jiang Weiqing massaged her forehead in defeat and looked toward Shen Qingyu. She’s too smart, I can’t fool her.

Shen Qingyu rolled her eyes and pushed Jiang Weiqing out of the room. She looked at the child in her arms. “If you keep being a ‘junk baby,’ you can’t sleep with Mama tonight.”

The toddler hesitated for exactly two seconds before her gaze hardened. She buried her head in Shen Qingyu’s chest. “Want Mama. Want Mama.” She refused to look at the pile of snacks again.

Shen Qingyu exhaled. In the child’s heart, her mother still held the highest rank.

*****

Meanwhile, outside in the hall, Chen Huawei hailed Jiang Weiqing as she emerged. “Did the Goddess like your gift?” He was grinning, but there was a distinct craftiness in his eyes.

Jiang Weiqing was fuming but kept her face neutral as she sat on the central sofa. “She hasn’t opened it yet.” She tilted her head. “What did the rest of you get her?”

“Fish! Very delicious fish!” Lu Yan, perched on Bairan’s shoulder, spoke in human tongue.

“A beautiful little dress,” Miao Jialing added. “Sister Qingyu has such long, white legs; she’ll look stunning.”

“She’s a Metal-type, right? I got her some metal,” An Songyu said, looking quite proud of his practical idea.

The others rolled their eyes. As long as a gift had heart, it wasn’t bad. Jiang Weiqing listened to the chatter and nudged Xu Bairan. “Xiao Bai, sprout some sunflower seeds for us.”

“You want to eat them, Captain?”

“Let’s chat and snack.”

Bairan thought it was a bit odd but complied. Green light pulsed from his fingertips as he used a nearby flower pot. A small vine burst from the soil and, in the blink of an eye, grew into a massive sunflower four or five times the normal size.

The seeds inside were long and thin, looking more like silver needles or hidden weapons than food. The petals were sharp and jagged. It looked terrifying.

“Can you even eat those?” Chen Huawei asked, fascinated. He’d seen the power of the “Cherry Bombs” earlier and was skeptical.

An Songyu, receiving the signal from Jiang Weiqing, showed no fear. He reached into the center of the flower. The sunflower reacted, its petals becoming sharp blades, but An Songyu was faster. He plucked a seed and popped it in his mouth. “You can’t have a good chat without seeds,” he sighed, sipping his black tea.

In the dim light, Chen Huawei who was sitting at a diagonal, could only see An Songyu’s profile. But those closer could see clearly: An Songyu’s lips had turned an unnatural shade of bluish-purple.

Lin Yunxia sighed. “Do you really have to eat those?”

Xu Bairan was a Wood-type, but his specialty was Mutated Poison. Everything he grew carried toxins. For high-level Espers, it wasn’t lethal, but it wasn’t pleasant either.

An Songyu started scratching his arms. “I can’t help it, they taste too good.” He gave Lin Yunxia a pleading look. “Besides, you’re a Healer.” He reached for another handful.

Lin Yunxia rolled her eyes. “I haven’t felt this speechless since the last time you did this.”

Miao Jialing laughed. “Sister Yunxia, you have to admit, mutated beast meat tastes better after you use your healing light on it.”

As everyone started snacking, the cat-form Lu Yan was repelled by the aggressive sunflower several times before shifting to human form to grab some. Little Black sat on the bunk railing, looking down with pure disdain. Stupid humans, voluntarily eating poison.

Jiang Weiqing looked at Chen Huawei. “Want some?”

Alarm bells rang in Chen Huawei’s head. “No way. You’re trying to prank me.” He could tell something was off with An Songyu’s face.

Jiang Weiqing didn’t miss a beat. She handed a handful to Miao Jialing. “Jialing, roast these with a bit of salt.”

Jialing conjured a small fireball and started roasting them. “Don’t think it’s like the old days,” Jiang Weiqing said to Chen. “Seeds are a luxury now.”

Eventually, the rhythmic crick-crack of everyone else snacking wore Chen Huawei down. He looked at Duan Muyu and Hutong. “Boss, you want some?” Duan Muyu didn’t look up from her iPad, and Hutong shook his head cautiously.

Unable to resist any longer, Chen Huawei grabbed a handful. The first bite was tingly and numbing—oddly addictive.

“Are they that good?” Hutong asked.

“Horrible,” Chen Huawei sneered, even as he kept eating. He felt like his head and body were disconnecting. If he had a mirror, he would have seen his mouth turning a sickly green.

Ten minutes later, after devouring a mountain of seeds, the regret set in. “I’m itchy… so itchy,” he groaned to Hutong.

“That’s what you get for being greedy,” Hutong replied without sympathy.

Chen Huawei realized it was a trap. He fought the urge to claw at his skin and glared at Jiang Weiqing. “You did this on purpose!”

The Longyu Squad members had built up an immunity to the toxins, so their reactions were mild. Jiang Weiqing looked innocent. “We all ate them. How was I supposed to know you’d react so strongly?” She handed him a bottle of water. “Here, wash the taste out.”

Feeling embarrassed for accusing her, Chen Huawei took the bottle. It tasted strange. He looked at the label. Master Kong? No, it was Master Kang—a cheap knock-off.

Suddenly, his stomach let out a thunderous growl. An urgent, undeniable need hit him like a tidal wave. His face turned ashen as he bolted for the bathroom. “Jiang Weiqing! I’ll get you for this!”

Jiang Weiqing remained unfazed. “Why is he so angry?” Lin Yunxia asked, coming back from tidying the beds.

“Who knows?” Jiang Weiqing shrugged. “Maybe he’s hit early-onset menopause.”

*****

The two squads split the first and second floors. Lin Yunxia handed out the keys. Hutong took a room with the “compromised” Chen Huawei, while Duan Muyu took a single room, warning them, “The wind is strong tonight; keep your windows locked.”

Jiang Weiqing took room 2016. She locked her window, heeding the warning, but didn’t notice a tiny flower petal that had drifted in earlier, rolling under the heavy curtains.

She sniffed the air. A faint, lingering floral scent hung in the room. She frowned and sniffed her own clothes. “The Golden Osmanthus scent really sticks to you,” she muttered. Exhausted from the battle with the Spatial Zombie King, she fell into bed and drifted into a deep sleep.

In the middle of the night, a knock came at the door. Two light, one heavy.

Jiang Weiqing recognized the rhythm immediately. It was how Shen Qingyu used to knock on her dorm door in college. Despite her exhaustion, she got up, worried something was wrong.

If she had looked in a mirror, she would have seen she was not herself. Her body looked blurred, almost liquid, with faint, tentacle-like ripples beneath the surface. Water molecules in the air clung to her with unnatural affection.

She opened the door to find Shen Qingyu standing there in a bathrobe. “Shen Qingyu? What are you doing here? Where’s the baby?”

“Don’t you want to touch them?” Shen Qingyu asked.

“What?”

Shen Qingyu let the robe fall away. Underneath, she was wearing the black lace lingerie Jiang Weiqing had “gifted” her.

“They’re white, thin, and long,” Shen Qingyu said in a cold, detached tone that contrasted sharply with her outfit. “Don’t you want to feel them?”

The low, melodic lilt of her voice sent a shiver straight through Jiang Weiqing’s soul.

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