I Don't Want to Have Little Mushrooms with You - Chapter 28

Song Tai stared at the message, feeling like she could get along well with Chen Ling’s girlfriend.

Mostly, she was curious. After all this time, she had never met her—it was all so mysterious.

She arranged to meet Chen Ling for lunch the next day.

After sending the message, she clicked into her conversation with Song Xuehe.

Song Xuehe hadn’t replied yet, and Song Tai felt a growing unease.

It had been so long; there was no way she hadn’t seen the message.

Song Tai sensed that Song Xuehe was deliberately ignoring her.

The last time Song Xuehe had done this was during her college years. After Song Tai had cycled through several girlfriends in quick succession, Song Xuehe didn’t react immediately. Instead, she caught Song Tai red-handed after a date with one of them.

Song Tai, her lips still flushed from kissing, was taken home by Song Xuehe.

Recalling that incident, Song Tai immediately felt a sense of foreboding. She hesitated, typing out a few apologetic messages in the chat box.

But she quickly deleted them in frustration.

Just as she was wavering, a notification popped up on her phone.

Song Xuehe: Baby, come home and stay with Mom tonight.

It wasn’t a request, but an order.

Song Tai’s heart clenched. That tone made her feel a sense of danger. But the next moment, Song Xuehe sent another message: Auntie went to clean your room yesterday and found it was too damp. It’s bad for your health.

Song Tai breathed a sigh of relief.

But damp? Was her room really damp? She hadn’t noticed.

Still, she obediently replied: Okay.

The next day at noon, Song Tai left at the agreed-upon time. Chen Ling sent her the location of the restaurant where they were meeting.

As she stared at her phone, the elevator doors opened before her. Only then did she realize someone was already inside.

A familiar scene. Song Tai looked up to see who it was and froze in her tracks.

In just a few days, Qu Lingyue’s raven-black, shoulder-length hair had grown noticeably longer. Instead of being tied up, it hung loosely over her shoulders.

The moment Qu Lingyue saw her, a smile lit up her eyes. “Miss Song.”

Song Tai: “……”

That pest again.

Song Tai frowned, resisting the urge to step back. She truly didn’t want to share the same space with Qu Lingyue.

But then she remembered Chen Ling was waiting for her, and deliberately avoiding Qu Lingyue would make it seem like Qu Lingyue mattered to her.

She doesn’t care about Qu Lingyue. Why should she hide?

Under Qu Lingyue’s smiling gaze, Song Tai casually averted her eyes and stepped into the elevator.

She had no intention of speaking to Qu Lingyue, but to her surprise, Qu Lingyue remained silent after the initial greeting, as if she had sensed Song Tai’s aversion.

Song Tai thought, Qu Lingyue becomes much more bearable when she doesn’t speak. The moment she opens her mouth, she becomes utterly detestable.

Still, the elevator’s cramped space made Qu Lingyue’s presence impossible to ignore.

The silence between them hung heavy, creating an awkward tension.

Unwilling to engage in conversation, Song Tai shifted her attention to the floor numbers on the elevator screen, watching them idly as the elevator descended smoothly.

The numbers ticked down steadily, floor by floor.

When the display reached “4,” Song Tai thought she noticed a brief delay of a few seconds.

She was about to examine it more closely when…

The elevator lights flickered several times before a piercing, grinding sound filled the car. A sudden, intense sensation of weightlessness followed as the elevator plummeted downward.

A faint crackling sound, then a snap, and the lights went out.

Caught off guard by the sudden chaos, Song Tai nearly lost her balance. She stumbled backward, bracing herself against the car wall to avoid falling.

Fortunately, the elevator’s descent halted abruptly after two violent jolts, finally stabilizing.

In the cramped, pitch-black space, Song Tai heard ragged, panicked breathing coming from beside her.

Only the two of them were in the elevator. She suddenly remembered how Qu Lingyue had acted strangely that night when she knocked on Song Tai’s door during the power outage—her breathing erratic, her fingers trembling…

At the time, Song Tai had realized Qu Lingyue seemed terrified of the dark.

Instinctively, she turned toward the sound in the darkness, but didn’t move. She didn’t want to get involved with Qu Lingyue; nothing good ever came of it.

See? she thought. We’re just sharing an elevator, and already something like this happens.

But as the breathing grew increasingly frantic, becoming heavy and labored…

Could something have happened to her?

After a few seconds of hesitation, Song Tai forced herself to be patient and called out in the direction of the labored breathing, “Qu Lingyue.”

Qu Lingyue didn’t respond, but the breathing grew louder and more erratic.

The darkness was absolute, and her footing felt unsteady. She couldn’t see anything, but she steeled herself and took a tentative step forward, reaching out with her arm. “Where are you?”

As soon as the words left her lips, a clammy hand suddenly gripped her wrist.

Even through the fabric of her sleeve, the palm felt hot and damp against her skin.

The next moment, someone was pressed against her chest.

If Song Tai hadn’t known that ghosts couldn’t possibly exist, she would have screamed.

Qu Lingyue’s forehead was also slick with cold sweat. Despite being much taller, she had buried her face in the crook of Song Tai’s neck, her arms wrapped tightly around her waist, her breathing labored.

Caught off guard by the sudden embrace, Song Tai stumbled backward until her spine pressed against the icy carriage wall. The height difference forced her to tilt her head back awkwardly.

In the darkness, she could hear Qu Lingyue’s ragged breathing close to her ear, as chaotic and disordered as the frantic pounding of her own heart.

After a few seconds of stunned silence, Song Tai ruthlessly tried to push her away.

The position was uncomfortable, and Qu Lingyue, a healthy adult woman, was pressing most of her weight onto Song Tai.

She’s so heavy.

“Let go of me first.”

Qu Lingyue seemed unable to control herself, clinging to Song Tai as if she were her only support. She refused to release her grip, barely registering Song Tai’s words, and instead tightened her embrace.

There’s no reasoning with someone who’s lost their senses.

Song Tai was furious.

The sudden crisis had nearly made her forget she had her phone. She hastily activated the flashlight, instantly illuminating the cramped elevator.

Straining to lower her gaze, Song Tai finally saw Qu Lingyue’s face. The smile had vanished, replaced by a look of utter disarray. Her eyes were unfocused, and cold sweat plastered her forehead to Song Tai’s.

Song Tai stared down at her silently.

The atmosphere was eerily quiet. After the deafening grinding noises, the silence felt almost deafening.

The flashlight’s beam, like a tiny spotlight, encircled the two women, creating a cramped stage. No other sounds broke the stillness except Qu Lingyue’s ragged breathing in Song Tai’s ear.

After a few heart-stopping seconds, the only sound louder than her own heartbeat was Qu Lingyue’s.

Song Tai had heard of the “suspension bridge effect,” where people misattribute physiological arousal caused by stress or excitement to romantic feelings for someone nearby.

This was roughly the situation between Song Tai and Qu Lingyue right now.

Song Tai paused for a few seconds.

So hot… so heavy.

Why is she pressed so close to me?

She frowned slightly in distaste but didn’t push Qu Lingyue away. “Alright, it’s over. Get your phone out and let go of me already.”

Qu Lingyue remained silent.

During their hurried entry into the elevator, Song Tai had barely glanced at her, unwilling to give her another look. She still remembered how irritating Qu Lingyue’s earlier remarks had been.

Such a nuisance.

But now, perhaps shaken by the sudden incident, Qu Lingyue’s face looked pale and her lips lacked color. Without her usual peacock-like display, she suddenly seemed much more agreeable.

Still, Song Tai remained cautious, her eyes fixed on Qu Lingyue as her fingers quietly clenched into a fist.

She hadn’t forgotten how Qu Lingyue had immediately resumed her irritating remarks the moment she recovered last time.

Though Qu Lingyue was taller, if she dared to say anything strange again, Song Tai could take advantage of her weakened state to land a couple of punches, settling the score from their previous encounter.

“I’m sorry, Miss Song. Thank you for your help,” Qu Lingyue said, her lips devoid of color and her face pale, clearly still shaken by the sudden incident. Yet she quickly straightened up, took a slow step back, leaned against the elevator wall, and maintained a normal distance from Song Tai.

It seemed her earlier actions had been an uncontrollable response to the emergency.

She hadn’t intended to do anything that would make Song Tai dislike her.

Qu Lingyue’s sudden return to normalcy left Song Tai feeling slightly disoriented.

She had even braced herself for a fight.

Song Tai unclenched her fist, a hint of disappointment flickering across her face.

Qu Lingyue leaned her head against the elevator wall, her eyes closed, her chest rising and falling rapidly. She looked visibly distressed.

After a few seconds, she managed to steady her breathing and opened her eyes. “Miss Song, would you please call for help?” she asked, her gaze dropping to her trembling hands. A self-deprecating smile touched her lips. “I… can’t focus right now.”

Song Tai huffed inwardly. As if I needed to be told that, she thought.

She had been standing near the elevator door and had immediately pressed the emergency alarm button when she realized something was wrong.

The alarm connected to a call center, and someone answered promptly.

After confirming the building and elevator number, the operator assured them that maintenance personnel would arrive shortly and urged them to remain calm.

Song Tai glanced at her phone. Though there was no internet connection inside the elevator, she still had enough signal to make calls.

They had no idea when the elevator would be fixed. By the time they got out, they might miss their appointment with Chen Ling.

Song Tai called Chen Ling to explain the situation.

“It should be fine,” Chen Ling said anxiously. “The maintenance crew should be arriving soon.” She offered to come over, but Song Tai stopped her.

It’s probably nothing, Song Tai thought.

Too bad I was looking forward to meeting Chen Ling’s girlfriend.

After hanging up, Song Tai turned to see Qu Lingyue leaning against the elevator wall, her eyes closed, brows furrowed, and forehead damp with sweat. Her face seemed even paler than before.

Though Song Tai had turned on her phone’s flashlight, the elevator wasn’t terribly dark, but Qu Lingyue looked genuinely unwell.

Worried, Song Tai raised her phone, stood on tiptoe, and leaned closer to Qu Lingyue. “Are you sure you’re okay?” she asked again.

Qu Lingyue opened her eyes briefly before quickly closing them again.

Whether it was the lighting or the pale color of Qu Lingyue’s irises, Song Tai thought she saw a faint glint of tears in her eyes during that fleeting moment.

Puzzled, Song Tai’s voice softened. “Qu Lingyue?”

Is she about to cry from fear?

Qu Lingyue closed her eyes, opened her mouth as if she didn’t know what to say, and remained eerily silent for a few seconds before finally saying, with a hint of helplessness, “Don’t shine the light in my eyes.”

Song Tai realized her mistake and immediately sheepishly moved her phone away. It turned out Qu Lingyue wasn’t crying; she was just sensitive to the light.

Rescue and repair teams arrived quickly, but it was unclear when the elevator would be fixed.

However, personnel remained stationed at the alarm panel, periodically offering reassuring words: “Don’t panic, don’t be afraid. It’ll be fixed soon.”

Elevator malfunctions were possible, though rare. Song Tai wasn’t scared, but the woman beside her was a different story.

In the dim light, Song Tai saw Qu Lingyue’s eyes lowered as she leaned quietly against the elevator wall, her fingers trembling slightly.

Song Tai didn’t know the full extent of Qu Lingyue’s fear of the dark, but these symptoms indicated a severe, possibly pathological level of phobia.

After a moment’s thought, Song Tai offered her sleeve. “Forget it. Just hold onto me.”

Qu Lingyue glanced up at her but didn’t take the sleeve. Instead, as if she had been holding back for too long, she immediately wrapped her arms tightly around Song Tai and buried her face in her shoulder.

Song Tai: “……”

Fine, considering how miserable she is.

Frowning, Song Tai ultimately didn’t push her away.

Qu Lingyue subtly adjusted her posture, her forehead slick with cold sweat. She didn’t want to get it on Song Tai’s clothes, especially since she might still have time to meet Chen Ling later.

The two women remained in that position, waiting. The elevator doors soon slid open.

Though it hadn’t been long, being trapped in the cramped, dimly lit space and suddenly breathing fresh air felt like emerging into daylight.

The first thing Song Tai saw was Chen Ling’s face.

Chen Ling had rushed over as soon as she received Song Tai’s call. Despite Song Tai’s assurances that she was fine, Chen Ling remained anxious, waiting outside the elevator.

Her usually cool expression was taut with worry, but her face softened slightly when she saw Song Tai emerge safely. “Cai Cai,” she murmured.

Song Tai smiled at Chen Ling and gently disengaged from Qu Lingyue, wanting to reassure her. “I’m fine,” she said quickly.

Chen Ling’s expression remained concerned as she stepped forward, her gray eyes scanning Song Tai from head to toe, about to check for injuries.

But before she could move closer, a long-haired woman with dark brown hair and sky-blue eyes suddenly rushed forward and embraced Song Tai tightly.

Caught off guard, Song Tai stumbled back two steps, nearly losing her balance. The woman’s silky brown hair cascaded over her shoulder, and a familiar, cloyingly sweet scent filled her nostrils.

For a few stunned seconds, Song Tai felt disoriented. She tentatively poked the woman’s shoulder and whispered, “…Hello?”