My Straight Girlfriend with Skin Hunger Syndrome - Chapter 127

Chapter 127

Life settled into a steady rhythm.

No matter how many undercurrents churned beneath the surface of the sea, they no longer reached Yi Shanshan and Ying Yuan.

They lived their lives—a life far richer than that of ordinary college students, yet still the kind of life young people in the prime of their youth should be living.

When joy arrived, they embraced it without restraint, letting their love overflow without reservation.

In late December, City A experienced its first snowfall of the year.

That afternoon, Yi Shanshan dragged Ying Yuan to the campus quad for a snowball fight with friends. That evening, Ying Yuan brewed fragrant mulled wine. The two women sat on the living room carpet, watching the snow dusting the ginkgo branches outside the window while basking in the warm glow of an electric fireplace.

They talked endlessly, their conversation meandering like a stream.

As they grew slightly tipsy, Yi Shanshan, as if unwrapping a cherished candy, asked Ying Yuan carefully, yet with a gleeful lilt, “Babe, when exactly did you start liking me?”

Ying Yuan’s cheeks flushed slightly. She attributed it to the wine, thinking, How can I still blush over a simple question after we’ve been so intimate?

Ying Yuan lowered her lashes, pondering carefully before replying earnestly, “It must have started quite early on. I began developing feelings for you early on. By the time I accompanied you to that performance, I was certain—I had truly fallen in love with you.”

Yi Shanshan’s eyes curved into crescents, her familiar mischievous “Little Fox” expression returning. She showed no surprise; it seemed she had already replayed these events countless times in her mind, arriving at a clear conclusion.

Ying Yuan’s answer aligned perfectly with Yi Shanshan’s own conjectures.

When someone first realizes they’re experiencing an unusual kind of love, they often feel lost and uncertain, stumbling blindly and acting in strange, irrational ways.

For instance, Ying Yuan had abruptly declared she wanted to cut off all contact with Yi Shanshan the moment she woke up one morning.

Or when Yi Shanshan had suddenly rushed to Ying Yuan’s house in the middle of the night.

Neither had ever been in love before; neither knew what they might do.

Whether right or wrong, good or bad, these actions created endless new possibilities for their connection.

Perhaps the outcome they now enjoyed was the most precious and blissful of those possibilities.

Yi Shanshan leaned close to Ying Yuan, her eyes locked on hers. No longer dwelling on past troubles, she simply wanted to savor the sweetness of the moment.

“How early is ‘really early’? What did it feel like? That first time backstage at school, when I pulled you into the dressing room, did you feel anything? Did your heart race when you held me? Did you blush and feel shy like you do now? Or… down there?”

Ying Yuan: “……”

Her entire face flushed crimson.

Yi Shanshan loved teasing her like this, loved bullying her when she was flustered.

She pulled Ying Yuan’s crossed legs apart, straightening them, then sat on them, crowding close against her.

Body against body, the northern winter’s heated indoor air quickly turned stifling.

Outside, the cold, glistening snow was real. Inside, the fake fire roasting them into a sweat was just as real.

“Since being with you, even blizzards don’t feel cold,” Yi Shanshan murmured, nuzzling Ying Yuan’s chest to listen to her heartbeat. “It’s always so warm, like it’s always summer.”

Ying Yuan’s throat went dry, the feeling exactly like that sweltering summer vacation.

“You used to hide inside my coat whenever we went out,” she said.

“Is this really the time to be talking about that?” Yi Shanshan’s eyes sparkled, her lips glistening. Her hands roamed Ying Yuan’s body, playfully teasing her. “You need to answer the question I asked earlier—thoroughly, meticulously, leaving nothing out. If you can’t describe your feelings accurately, I’ll assume you’ve forgotten. And if you’ve forgotten, I’ll make sure you remember right now~”

“Remember… and tell me.”

This Little Fox really has a thousand ways to torment her clueless robot, Ying Yuan thought.

Ying Yuan was left with a choice between embarrassment and even greater embarrassment.

Resigned, she chose the former and began to recount every feeling she had for Yi Shanshan, one by one.

This is all it takes to punish an introverted lover, she thought.

Watching her blush crimson as she uttered suggestive words, her gaze wavering when she paused.

Making her lay bare her entire heart—every corner, every facet—turning it over and over for you to hear.

Yi Shanshan was genuinely tipsy, feeling dizzy as the world spun around her in a blissful, dizzying dance.

She suddenly jumped up, turned on her computer, and opened the exclusive game Ying Yuan had gifted her for her birthday. She held it up to Ying Yuan, playing while asking:

“What would you feel if I chose this option?”

“And what if I did this instead? How would you react?”

“Can’t imagine it? Then try this action…”

Memories and hypotheticals, game and reality, blurred together into a chaotic mess.

Under Yi Shanshan’s playful, even mischievous manipulations, the unlived possibilities between them seemed, just like in the game, to converge on a single ending:

The ending they now shared.

They would live together happily ever after.

“I love this game!” Yi Shanshan threw herself onto Ying Yuan, her laughter bright and radiant. “I love my life!”

Ying Yuan hugged her close, watching the most dazzling star shine in her arms. “Me too…”

Yi Shanshan nuzzled her cheek against Ying Yuan’s chest, her warm breath ghosting over the skin above her heart.

“Darling~ After all you’ve shared, let me tell you a secret too~

“That hug backstage wasn’t an accident. I’d been watching you for ages~

“Since when, exactly…? Hmm, you definitely wouldn’t remember…

“The awards ceremony in the first semester of our first year. You were the outstanding student representative giving the speech, and I was the emcee.

“You didn’t even bring a script. Facing all those students and teachers, you were so calm, so aloof. Your voice never wavered, never rose or fell—just flat and even, then you finished and walked off the stage with your head down.

“I was standing by the exit, and when you passed by, I intentionally didn’t move. I wanted to see if you’d stay so composed even when you bumped into someone…

“Hehe, and then you fell right into my arms~

“You smelled so good, and your body felt so warm against mine—like hugging a puppy right after a bath~

“I even wondered if you had pheromones. It sounds crazy, but that feeling just flooded me in an instant…

“I was so shocked—and finally, you showed some emotion.”

“You’re not aloof at all! Your cheeks were flushed crimson as you apologized to me. Your eyes had so much more sparkle when you said ‘I’m sorry’ than they did when you were speaking on stage earlier~

“In such a grand setting, of course I forgave you without hesitation. When you came off stage, you even helped straighten the hem of my gown!”

Ying Yuan froze. If she strained her memory, she could vaguely recall something like that happening.

But in her memory, it had been just an ordinary on-stage speech. Even if there had been a minor mishap, it had remained within the boundaries of her world’s usual rules.

That dazzlingly beautiful host belonged to another world.

The sunlight had been blindingly hazy, and she hadn’t even gotten a clear look at the other woman’s face.

Seeing Ying Yuan’s expression, Yi Shanshan realized she truly had no recollection of the incident.

She huffed in annoyance and playfully nipped Ying Yuan’s shoulder before continuing to recount the vivid details that had burned into her memory.

“I was wearing a blue gown with an extra-long hem. It got caught on the corner of the stage steps. You had already walked past, but you turned back, knelt down, and gently tugged it free.”

“Pulling doesn’t quite capture it. It was more like… cradling. How could you be so gentle with just a piece of fabric? Cradling it out, smoothing it flat, tidying it up…”

“Did you know how many people were watching us back then?” Yi Shanshan asked. “Do you know how adorable you looked from above, with your head bowed as you smoothed out your skirt?”

“Such a good little puppy! So slow and deliberate—I really want to keep you!”

Ying Yuan was starting to get angry at her own cluelessness. At fifteen or sixteen, she’d been so absorbed in her books that she’d noticed nothing else.

She couldn’t hear the flowers blooming, couldn’t see their unparalleled beauty. She worried about whether someone might trip over their clothes, but she never took the initiative to connect with another soul.

“I’ve remembered you ever since that day~” Yi Shanshan said, rolling around in Ying Yuan’s arms. As always, forgiveness came easily. Her hair slid across Ying Yuan’s skin like soft clouds.

“After that, whenever I saw you at school, I’d always take an extra look.”

“You’re really such a good girl~ Either you were reciting from your textbooks or hugging your books and reciting as you walked.”

“Our school has a few ginkgo trees in the southwest corner. In the autumn, lots of people gather there to collect fallen leaves. You’d sit nearby reading, like you had a personal force field, never even blinking…”

“It seemed like you didn’t have any friends, or maybe you just didn’t need any.”

“Always alone, but so peaceful.”

“How could someone so young be so steady? Not a single bit noisy or rambunctious. What was going on in your head? Who knows, but I’m sure it wasn’t anything bad.”

“You’d help the cleaning lady push her cart, and you’d watch over the first-aid kit during sports day. After the fireworks went off, while everyone else was celebrating, you’d quietly sweep up the debris with a small broom…”

“So cute…”

“Nowhere to be found when things got lively, but always on the honor roll at the school gate every semester.

“Just that one photo, used for three years. Your features were actually quite striking—a narrow face, thin lips. Your school uniform was always perfectly neat, the collar spotless white. Every time I walked past and saw it, I felt like I could almost smell… that scent from when we bumped into each other…”

At this, Yi Shanshan laughed, pulling aside Ying Yuan’s pajamas, burying her face in Ying Yuan’s shoulder, and inhaling deeply.

Her voice, muffled against Ying Yuan’s skin, vibrated with laughter, the tremors carrying into Ying Yuan’s body.

“If I’d known it felt this good, I would have started sooner.

“Cornered you in some deserted spot, hugged you tight, and inhaled deeply.

“Anyway, you’d agree with any excuse I made. Guess I’m just lucky. If someone else had discovered you first and snatched you away, I’d regret it for the rest of my life…”

“They couldn’t snatch me away,” Ying Yuan interjected quickly. “I only like you.”

“How do you know you only like me if you’ve never tried liking someone else?” Yi Shanshan pouted, shamelessly feigning innocence.

Ying Yuan blinked, gathering her thoughts. “Liking someone is a visceral feeling. I’ve met so many people, known so many people, but I only feel this way about you.”

“Hehe…” Yi Shanshan grinned, delighted. She loved hearing these words, savoring each repetition, reaffirming her unique and paramount position in Ying Yuan’s heart.

“What exactly do you like about me?” Yi Shanshan asked, swaying playfully. “Are you hopelessly captivated by my beauty?”

“Your beauty is extraordinary, but even without it, I’d still be drawn to you…” Ying Yuan had quickly grown accustomed to baring her heart. “Your character and spirit constantly amaze me. What you said earlier left me speechless—it’s as if you can defy all the universe’s established rules. Every time your gaze falls upon me, I feel incredibly fortunate…”

The orange-red electronic fireplace crackled softly.

Outside the window, snowflakes drifted silently, swirling like butterflies in the wind.

Tendrils of affection intertwined around them, an endless warmth, a temperature that never faltered.

As the night deepened, their intoxication and happiness grew heavier. Yi Shanshan suddenly felt an overwhelming urge to sing. Ever since being with Ying Yuan, the urge to enjoy and create music had surged within her, welling up from her very being, threatening to bloom into a lush and passionate summer.

Yi Shanshan picked up the guitar, cradling the large acoustic instrument in her arms. Her long hair cascaded around her as she strummed softly and began to sing in a low, gentle voice.

She asked Ying Yuan to film her, wanting to capture the music. Ying Yuan’s chosen angle brimmed with tender affection, the dimly lit footage radiating a soft, melting sweetness like cotton candy dissolving in warm air.

Yi Shanshan adored the video. She watched it repeatedly, unable to comprehend how something could be so beautiful even without showing her face.

A wave of intense beauty overwhelmed her, making her yearn to share it, as if hoarding it were a sin.

On her private social media account, amidst the empty feed, Yi Shanshan posted the video.

Then, tossing her phone aside, she threw herself into Ying Yuan’s arms, gushing about her awe and showering her perfect lover with endless kisses.

Until, exhausted, they drifted into sleep.

The next day, the snow continued to fall. Outside the window, a ginkgo branch snapped under the weight of the accumulating snow with a soft crack.

Inside, Yi Shanshan’s piercing scream, like a shrill birdcall, heralded a new chapter.

“Ying Yuan!!! Our video went viral!!! Aaaaaah—!!!”