My Straight Girlfriend with Skin Hunger Syndrome - Chapter 131

Chapter 131: Extra 1.3: Qi Hongyue x Wen Can: “You want me to call you…?”

The two women went to a bar with a refined ambiance.

The air inside carried a faint woody fragrance, and beyond the blinds, shadows of lush green bamboo swayed gently.

To Qi Hongyue’s surprise, Wen Can favored sweet, fruity wines with low alcohol content. The glasses were exquisitely decorated, and the crystal-clear liquid swirled within them like a dazzling dreamscape.

As the sun began to set, golden rays kissed Wen Can’s hair. The charismatic woman turned to Qi Hongyue with an intrigued smile—a vision that felt both dreamlike and treacherous…

Or perhaps, a trap.

Dreams often unfold this way: moments of perfect bliss followed by a dizzying plunge into the abyss.

“So, President Wen, are you trying to poach me for your company?” Qi Hongyue asked bluntly, figuring Wen Can probably didn’t appreciate beating around the bush.

“Would you be interested?” Wen Can’s eyes lit up as she immediately pulled out her phone and opened her company’s job portal. “Let’s see what positions might suit you right now. You could try a short-term contract first—job hunting is like dating, after all. It’s about both fate and Late Stage compatibility…”

Qi Hongyue smiled. “Looks like President Wen’s dating experience far surpasses her recruiting skills.”

“You know, it’s funny you say that. My company’s only been around for two or three years, but my on-and-off dating history stretches back almost a decade…” Wen Can chuckled, her fingers tapping rapidly across her phone screen with a crisp tap tap tap.

Qi Hongyue now understood. Wen Can wasn’t deliberately trying to poach her; she had simply stumbled upon this situation and offered assistance out of a sense of fairness.

Qi Hongyue wouldn’t put her in an awkward position. One act of kindness was already more than enough—she couldn’t expect someone to orchestrate her entire future.

“I don’t want a job right now,” Qi Hongyue said.

Wen Can’s fingers stilled, her gaze lifting. “Ah…”

“Why not?” Wen Can asked.

“I can obtain my internship certificate through other means,” Qi Hongyue explained. “There’s no immediate need for me to start working.”

“But you’ll have to eventually after graduating, right?” Wen Can pressed.

“I still have a lot of projects on my plate,” Qi Hongyue replied. “I want to focus on finishing my own work first.”

“That game?” Wen Can asked.

“Exactly.”

Wen Can laughed. “Starting a business before you even graduate? Young people—they’re like newborn calves who don’t fear tigers!”

“You got it,” Qi Hongyue said, a wry smile curving her lips. “Gotta strike while you’re still naive. The more you know, the less courage you have, I guess.”

Wen Can gazed at her with a faint smile, her eyes carrying that same assessing look, yet it didn’t feel intrusive.

She seemed to be observing a plant’s growth, a flower’s blossoming.

The conversation suddenly shifted. “Were you scared just now?”

“Hm?” Qi Hongyue paused, then smiled. “In that situation, fear is irrelevant.”

“Then… were you sad?” Wen Can pressed.

Qi Hongyue pursed her lips, offering no reply.

To claim she felt no sadness at all would be a lie. She was, after all, human, flesh and blood; no matter how formidable her intellect, emotions remained.

But explaining to Wen Can that her sadness wasn’t what it seemed—where it came from, where it went—seemed too complicated.

Shallow acquaintances shouldn’t delve into deep matters.

“Naturally, there were some emotions,” Qi Hongyue finally replied, “but they didn’t affect me. It’s just created more complications that need to be dealt with later.”

“Such a tight-lipped little one,” Wen Can teased, unfazed by Qi Hongyue’s reluctance to share. She would simply take the initiative herself. “Well, if I told you I’m terribly curious about what really happened between you two… would you at least give me a hint, since you’re wearing my clothes?”

Wen Can raised three fingers, her voice softening into a sweet, intimate tone. “I promise, it’ll be just between us. No one else will ever know.”

Qi Hongyue found her unexpectedly endearing.

Her eager, wide-eyed gaze and thick, lush lashes tugged at his heart.

“Alright,” Qi Hongyue relented, “I’ll share a little, but you have to exchange a secret with me.”

“Hmm?” Wen Can tilted her head. “What do you want to know? About my ex-girlfriend?”

“The Lightweight Industry Initiative you proposed at the High-Tech Expo—was it genuine?”

Wen Can fell silent.

Qi Hongyue waited patiently.

“Must we discuss this now?” Wen Can finally asked.

Qi Hongyue smiled. “You’re interested in my personal life, and I’m interested in your work. It’s a win-win. We can both enjoy the conversation.”

Wen Can sighed. “Fine, I won’t ask.”

Her crimson lips closed around the straw of her drink, drawing in its vibrant, dreamlike colors. She took a sip, frowned slightly, and added, “Since you’re so eager to talk shop, what projects are you working on right now that you’d be willing to discuss?”

Qi Hongyue’s face lit up. Her eyebrows arched, and a spark of excitement flickered in her eyes.

“Games,” Qi Hongyue blurted out without hesitation. “We’re currently trying to secure a new investor to partner with.”

Seeing her earnestness, Wen Can leaned back in her chair and chuckled for a good while.

“Go on,” she said. “This is exactly the kind of thing I love hearing.”

The earlier, slightly flirtatious atmosphere of sharing drinks and pleasant conversation had completely transformed into a business negotiation.

Wen Can was a patient listener, while Qi Hongyue was someone driven by profit, someone who radiated her greatest energy when focused on her career.

One spoke with enthusiasm, and the other listened with equal enjoyment.

As night fell, Qi Hongyue pulled out her laptop from her backpack and began showcasing the game’s specific content to Wen Can, who was now thoroughly intrigued.

Wen Can got up from her seat across the table and moved to sit beside Qi Hongyue, making it easier to see the screen together. They ended up sitting a little too close; the scent of Wen Can’s perfume drifted into Qi Hongyue’s nostrils, making her feel as if flowers were blooming beside her.

A slight distraction, but nothing major.

They were getting along splendidly. Wen Can’s genuine interest in Qi Hongyue’s game was undeniable.

“Compile those materials and send them to me,” Wen Can said finally. “I’ll show them to Han Xing.”

Han Xing, Zhang Hanxing, the other person in charge at Canxing.

This is really happening! Qi Hongyue’s spirits soared, all traces of the day’s earlier frustrations vanishing.

If enduring emotional turmoil was the price for advancing her career, then Qi Hongyue felt another dose of turmoil wouldn’t be so bad.

By the time they emerged from the tavern, the night had deepened.

Qi Hongyue and Wen Can had exchanged contact information. In the dim yellow glow of the streetlights, they looked at each other’s faces—still strangers, yet with a hint of familiar intimacy.

“Where are you staying?” Wen Can asked, pressing the car key in her hand. The headlights of a car parked nearby blinked on like a pair of large, blinking eyes. “The valet will be here soon. I’ll drop you off first.”

Qi Hongyue: “No need. It’s easy to get a taxi or take the subway from here.”

“Convenience doesn’t equal enjoyment,” Wen Can said, a strand of hair sliding off her shoulder. “Come ride with me and we can chat some more. That’s bound to be more fun than going home alone, right?”

“Mmm,” Qi Hongyue agreed.

“Then…” Wen Can began.

“So I won’t sit down,” Qi Hongyue said.

Wen Can blinked, bewildered.

The abruptness of the shift was jarring, like saying, I like you, so I must stay away from you. It made no sense.

“I sincerely hope our collaboration can succeed,” Qi Hongyue continued.

“Of course,” Wen Can replied. “Me too.”

“I don’t like mixing personal feelings with work. Like what happened today—when emotions fall apart, it can cause irreparable damage to the project.”

Wen Can fell silent. She knew what Qi Hongyue was about to say.

“Let’s keep business separate from romance,” Qi Hongyue stated bluntly.

“Ssss…” Wen Can hissed.

She hadn’t expected Qi Hongyue to be so blunt. It was terribly awkward.

The hot night air swirled around them. Qi Hongyue’s gaze was calm and steady. Despite her youthful age, she carried a deep, detached aura, like an old monk in meditative seclusion, having severed all worldly ties.

A thin sheen of sweat broke out on Wen Can’s skin. She couldn’t stand in this stifling air any longer. She needed to get into the air-conditioned car and cool down.

“Alright,” Wen Can said. “Then it seems we can only talk business for now.”

“Mm-hmm, President Wen,” Qi Hongyue replied. “Everything will proceed according to your company’s standards. If my project fails to meet your requirements, I’ll accept that.”

“I don’t like you calling me ‘President Wen’,” Wen Can said. “Even if this is purely a business arrangement, I still value the ‘human’ factor.”

“What would you prefer I call you…?” Qi Hongyue asked.

“Big Sister.”

Qi Hongyue: “……”

Why do lesbians always insist on being called Big Sister?

Qi Hongyue blinked, her lips not moving.

Wen Can stepped closer, pinching Qi Hongyue’s chin as if demanding overdue interest. “Hurry up and say it. Or I’ll drive you home right now.”

Qi Hongyue’s gaze flickered. “Sister Can.”

Wen Can: “……”

“Aiya…” Wen Can dropped Qi Hongyue’s chin and turned to walk toward her car. “Such a small difference in wording, yet the impact is immense. It completely lacks the proper flavor. Stubborn little thing…”

The last three words, bitten out between her teeth, were barely audible but full of venom.

The designated driver had arrived. Wen Can handed over the keys and settled into the passenger seat.

The car started, and Qi Hongyue, tall and long-legged, strode over in a few steps, peering through the window at the occupants.

The figure in Wen Can’s peripheral vision was too prominent to ignore. After witnessing such a dramatic emotional entanglement involving Qi Hongyue today, she wasn’t particularly surprised.

From the moment she first laid eyes on Qi Hongyue, she had known that someone with such striking looks couldn’t possibly be without a complicated romantic history.

His very presence exuded a magnetic intensity that was intoxicating. And then there were his aloof, almost inhuman eyes—the colder they seemed, the more alluring they became.

Wen Can exhaled softly and rolled down the window.

“Anything else you wanted to say?” Her fingers tapped the car’s navigation screen, her gaze fixed straight ahead, as if all her focus were on confirming the destination.

Qi Hongyue: “I’ll get your clothes cleaned and mailed to you.”

Wen Can: “I’m not fond of sharing my address so casually.”

Qi Hongyue: “Then I’ll bring them next time we meet.”

Wen Can tilted her head. “Next time we meet, it might not be me you’re talking to.”

Qi Hongyue: “Then I’ll have her pass it on to you.”

Wen Can’s fingers froze mid-air, almost laughing in exasperation. “You really do have an answer for everything.”

Qi Hongyue: “Mm.”

Wen Can started the navigation, nodded to the designated driver, and said without looking at Qi Hongyue, “Goodbye.”

As the car began to pull away, Qi Hongyue took a step back. “Goodbye, Big Sister.”

The car, which had already glided a short distance, abruptly screeched to a halt.

Wen Can’s back slammed against the soft leather seat, her raised hand freezing in mid-air. Finally, she turned to look at Qi Hongyue. “Why are you calling me that now?”

Qi Hongyue stood her ground, maintaining a detached distance. Her gaze remained cold, but her tone carried a hint of amusement. “Even work depends on the ‘people’ involved.”

She clearly remembered Wen Can’s earlier words.

Qi Hongyue: “Big Sister, it’s been a pleasure getting to know you. I hope I’ve left you with only good impressions.”