My Straight Girlfriend with Skin Hunger Syndrome - Chapter 132

Chapter 132: Bonus 1.4: Qi Hongyue x Wen Can: What You Can’t Have Makes You Thirsty

From the very beginning, Qi Hongyue had made her intentions crystal clear.

At the time, her mind was consumed by her career.

She needed to resolve the legal dispute with her former client, build a new team, register a company, and develop new projects to ensure the survival of her small company operating from a residential building for as long as possible.

Every day was filled with endless tasks and unresolved matters. She met new people in a rush and ended unsuitable relationships just as quickly.

Time had become scarce yet overflowing, with numerous critical matters crowding together. The situation could change dramatically within just a month or two.

Qi Hongyue’s mind operated at full throttle, allowing herself virtually no room for error. She had forged herself into a true machine, prioritizing rationality and ambition above all else. All personal matters could be pushed aside, buried deep within her.

Feelings and emotions flowed like an underground river, suppressed deep beneath the surface, flowing silently and unseen.

During this period, Wen Can and Qi Hongyue met neither frequently nor infrequently.

After signing the contract, Canxing assigned a dedicated project manager, relieving Wen Can of many responsibilities. Yet she always showed Qi Hongyue a little extra warmth and concern.

He would ask her about the project’s progress, the company’s situation, and invite her to dinner whenever he traveled to her city for work.

Their conversations revolved mostly around work, but even those discussions—vast as the sky and as boundless as the earth—were endlessly fascinating.

Wen Can was intelligent, beautiful, worldly-wise, capable, and emotionally intelligent—a near-perfect business partner.

Perhaps when Qi Hongyue reached this assessment of her, she had already begun to see Wen Can as more than just a business partner.

After all, when working with someone, you don’t typically focus on their face, get dazzled by a sudden smile, lose focus, or find your gaze lingering on their lips when your thoughts return.

Wen Can’s full lips, always painted with vibrant lipstick, resembled velvety flower petals. As they parted, they subtly revealed the tips of her pearly-white teeth.

When she was particularly amused, the curve of her lips would widen, briefly exposing the pointed tips of her canine teeth.

These canine teeth suited her perfectly—like the hint of untamed innocence that occasionally peeked through her otherwise polished business demeanor.

“Mm, you’re right,” Qi Hongyue murmured, snapping back to attention.

But within half a second, her mind had already decided to tell a joke, hoping to coax that particular smile from Wen Can again.

“The response I got from CEO Li was like quantum entanglement—the outcome was fixed, but I couldn’t observe it.”

“Hahahaha… you’re right!”

Wen Can laughed, her tiger teeth flashing, eyes crinkling into crescents, and thick eyelashes fluttering. “What a perfect analogy!”

Qi Hongyue’s lips curved into a smile, her mood brightening.

Wen Can gazed at her, the smile lingering, but paused silently for a long moment.

“You seem much more relaxed since the game launched,” she observed. “Seeing such good results must make you really happy, right?”

“Mm,” Qi Hongyue replied. “We didn’t disappoint everyone’s expectations. You didn’t lose money, and our hard work paid off.”

“What are your plans for the future?” Wen Can asked.

“Besides the card game we just signed, I’ve come across two other projects that really interest me. I’m planning to co-develop them…”

“That’s not what I meant. I can read all about that in the reports.”

Wen Can interrupted, holding her drink. The clear glass straw clinked as she stirred her drink. “I’m asking about you personally—your life, your own plans. What do you want for yourself?”

“Oh, that.” Qi Hongyue paused. Her mind held a meticulously detailed schedule, still crammed to the brim. Now she needed to extract the personal parts to answer Wen Can’s question.

Her lashes lowered as she pondered silently.

Wen Can leaned forward, closing the distance between them. “We’ve known each other for so long now. Aside from being your client, I’d consider us friends, wouldn’t you?”

“Definitely,” Qi Hongyue replied without hesitation. Even before the game launched, she had hoped to stay in touch with Wen Can after their collaboration ended, regardless of future projects.

“Shanshan’s insisting on a celebration party this weekend,” Qi Hongyue began to sort through her personal matters. “The team’s been working too hard for too long, so they’ll be taking staggered annual leave. My cousin from back home is coming next week for some errands, and I’ll accompany her for half a day. The company’s hired new recruits, so the lounge needs to be converted into workstations. I can’t live at the office anymore, so I’ll be looking at apartments whenever I have time.”

Wen Can: “Buying one?”

Qi Hongyue: “No, renting one.”

“At this rate, buying a place won’t be a problem,” Wen Can said.

“There’s no need,” Qi Hongyue replied. “It’s better to invest in another project.”

Wen Can smiled, this time without showing her canines. It was a helpless smile, her eyes downcast.

“Xiaoyue,” she called her, repeating her question, “Don’t you need entertainment? Don’t you need to truly relax? Are you going to keep working like this, never taking a single day off?”

“I rest when I need to,” Qi Hongyue said.

“That’s not rest, that’s running errands,” Wen Can retorted.

Qi Hongyue: “……”

Wen Can suddenly said, “The weather’s warming up, Xiaoyue. The flowers in the south are blooming everywhere. I’m planning to go travel.”

Qi Hongyue’s heart skipped a beat. “That’s wonderful,” she said.

Wen Can looked at her. “I don’t like traveling alone. It’s no fun—you can’t even shout about the beautiful scenery to someone beside you.”

Qi Hongyue’s lips moved, and Wen Can left an opening for her to speak, but she said nothing. The schedule in her head was indeed packed solid.

No gaps, no space for a trip.

Wen Can blinked, tilting her head to reveal the scrutinizing gaze Qi Hongyue hadn’t seen in years.

This expression had been frequent when they first met. Wen Can would observe Qi Hongyue with a subtle, almost imperceptible smile, her focused gaze conveying her interest.

But now, there was no smile.

Her scrutiny resembled solving a stubborn puzzle, a problem that resisted all attempts at resolution.

Qi Hongyue remained silent as Wen Can leaned back, sinking into her seat.

She brushed her long hair behind her shoulder, exposing the smooth curve of her neck and the sharp definition of her collarbones.

Her vivid red lips, carrying a faint fragrance, parted slightly. “So I’m planning to go with a ‘Little Sister’ I met online.”

Qi Hongyue’s heart skipped a beat, then slowly sank.

Wen Can continued, “A really cute girl, studying film directing. About your age, just graduated. We met in the film review section, arguing over that disastrous Spring Festival release, Blades and Spears. The little sister single-handedly fought the lead actor’s fan army for three hundred rounds! Her arguments were so well-reasoned, logically sound, and surprisingly witty…”

“I chimed in with a few words to defend her, and we exchanged contact information. Young kids’ social media is fascinating—they post everything: meals, drinks, shopping trips, and all their pretty photos.

“You can tell exactly how they’re feeling—happy, sad, everything’s right there on display. No guessing needed.

“After working for so long, hanging out with someone like that is really relaxing.”

“This trip is basically our first in-person meeting,” Wen Can said with a smile. “Bet you didn’t think I’d be into something like this with a kid.”

Qi Hongyue was momentarily speechless.

Ever since that skipped beat in her heart, her mind felt like it had a bubble of emptiness inside. All her cleverness and rationality were trapped outside the thin membrane of that bubble, leaving only a hollow void within.

The pause stretched on, its duration impossible to gauge—it felt both distant and immediate.

“Does the kid call you ‘Big Sister’?” Qi Hongyue blurted out, surprising even herself.

“Yeah,” Wen Can replied. “She’s called me that since we first met. Sometimes she’ll suddenly send a voice message mid-text conversation. Her voice is so soft and sweet—it’s adorable.”

Qi Hongyue lifted her lashes, her gaze drifting through the empty space, and continued speaking words she wanted to say but didn’t want to bear the consequences for: “The kid likes you?”

Wen Can smiled. “We’ve talked for so long, she definitely likes me.”

Qi Hongyue: “That kind of like.”

Wen Can nodded generously. “Well, I suppose there’s some of that too. She invited me to listen to music with her and even asked me to go to a concert.”

Qi Hongyue’s fingers tapped lightly on the table. “Then she must be very happy about this trip.”

Wen Can flashed her canine teeth. “Exactly! As long as she’s happy, that’s all that matters.”

Yes, as long as she’s happy. In this world, no matter what people dedicate themselves to, the ultimate goal is happiness.

Qi Hongyue worked obsessively for happiness, and Wen Can always lent a helping hand to young people, also for happiness.

No one can obstruct another person’s happiness.

Qi Hongyue picked up her teacup, took a sip, and looked into Wen Can’s eyes. “That’s good. I hope you enjoy your trip.”

Wen Can returned her gaze with gentle warmth, like the thawing weather of spring. “You too. When you have time, get out and relax. Don’t keep yourself so tightly wound.”

Qi Hongyue: “Hmm.”

“I’m completely bowing out of any future collaborations,” Wen Can said. “We’ve got a proven formula now, and you’re thoroughly familiar with the processes and personnel. I’ll just sit back and wait for my share of the profits.”

The bubble grew larger. Qi Hongyue looked into Wen Can’s eyes, sensing a hazy film over them, indistinct and unreadable.

“Alright, thank you for all your hard work,” Qi Hongyue said. “I’m truly grateful for your care and support all this time.”

Wen Can’s lips curled slightly. “If you’re genuinely grateful, just say, ‘Thank you, Big Sister.'”

Qi Hongyue: “Thank you, Big Sister.”

The words came out swiftly, without hesitation, no pauses, no interruptions, and no additional comments. Qi Hongyue’s tone remained steady, her sincerity undeniable, embodying a level of obedience and docility never seen before.

The corners of Wen Can’s lips drooped. She studied the woman across from her: shoulder-length hair, detached expression, arms with sharply defined bone structure.

Throat constricted.

The unattainable only makes one thirst more.

It was all her fault for being so clear about boundaries from the start.

And for the storyline being so righteous at the beginning.

She, the selfless savior, rescuing others from dire straits. Qi Hongyue, with her clear-cut boundaries: business stays business, no romance.

“Heh.” Wen Can chuckled softly, lowering her gaze.