My Straight Girlfriend with Skin Hunger Syndrome - Chapter 23

Chapter 23

Tired?

Ying Yuan’s body felt numb, her heart weary—yes, she was indeed tired.

She had never experienced such a grueling day, her mind swarming with chaotic thoughts and emotions. It was like grappling with a problem she had never encountered before, one she couldn’t stop trying to solve, yet could find no answer.

Enjoying it?

If pain ran parallel to it, how could it be enjoyable? But as Ying Yuan gazed at Yi Shanshan’s face—her radiant smile, her bright eyes fixed intently on her as if she were the only person in the world, as if Ying Yuan were the most important person to her—the last vestiges of resentment she had harbored when she decided to leave vanished completely.

Is this what it feels like to fall for someone?

You’re helpless, yet you can’t bring yourself to blame her. Even as pain overwhelms you, a shameful joy persists.

Torn between reason and emotion, Ying Yuan remained silent. Yi Shanshan tightened her embrace, already beginning to cajole, “Please? Pretty please?”

Ying Yuan’s heart fluttered gently with the rhythm of Yi Shanshan’s voice. The moment she acknowledged her own feelings, the scales tipped wildly, her reason teetering on the brink. She hesitated, again and again, before speaking the words she knew she should say.

She should say, “No, I need to go back.”

She should say, “How could I possibly share a room with you?”

She should say, “Your sweet talk is just drugging my senses. I won’t fall for your tricks again.”

But when she opened her mouth, no sound came out.

Behind Yi Shanshan, another cluster of flowers moved slowly and gracefully closer.

Zheng Yueling watched them, her expression a mix of curiosity and something strange. Ying Yuan could see it all clearly.

As Zheng Yueling drew closer, Ying Yuan noticed her eyes were slightly red.

“Shanshan, you two…” Zheng Yueling began, but didn’t finish the sentence.

Yi Shanshan turned around immediately at the sound of her voice. She released her embrace of Ying Yuan and introduced her to Zheng Yueling: “Ling’er, this is my classmate Ying Yuan, the one I told you about. She’s really nice~”

Ying Yuan finally understood why people don’t actually feel happy when someone praises them for being “nice.”

Is “being a good person” all that’s left to praise? Ying Yuan wondered, realizing why people never felt truly complimented by such vague praise.

Yi Shanshan turned to Ying Yuan, her eyes curving into crescent moons. “Ying Yuan, you don’t need an introduction, right? You saw our performance earlier! Ling’er’s singing was absolutely amazing, and she’s so beautiful too!”

See? This introduction is much more substantial, Ying Yuan thought. It mentions her beauty, talent, and subtly hints at her fame.

Ying Yuan nodded. “Hello, Ms. Zheng,” she said.

Having spent so long at the event today, she figured addressing everyone as “Ms.” or “Mr.” was the safest and most polite option.

“Oh, no need for such formality,” Zheng Yueling said, stepping closer with a hint of embarrassment. “We’re about the same age—it feels so awkward being so formal. So… Shanshan, since your classmate is here, let’s grab a late-night snack together! I’m starving!”

“Yes, yes!” Yi Shanshan immediately agreed, hooking her arm through Ying Yuan’s and tilting her head up. “Didn’t I tell you something good would come of staying? Ms. Zheng is treating us to dinner!”

She’s really put me in a position where I can’t refuse, Ying Yuan thought, her smile stiffening.

At that moment, as Ying Yuan looked at Zheng Yueling, the scene she had glimpsed through the door crack earlier flashed in her mind. A sharp pang of hurt pierced her heart, yet she also felt a surge of unreasonable, overconfident ambition.

Driven by this inexplicable desire, she blurted out, “Alright,” defying all reason.

“Great!” Yi Shanshan clapped her hands in delight, looping her other arm around Zheng Yueling’s. “Woo! With so many of us, we can order tons of different dishes and feast like royalty!”

Zheng Yueling eagerly agreed. “Yes, yes! I’ve been craving that dry-pot shrimp ever since I saw the cameraman eating it at lunch.”

Yi Shanshan chimed in, “Me too, me too! It smelled heavenly. It was torture not being able to eat much before going onstage.”

Zheng Yueling nodded vigorously. “Exactly! I’m always so worried about overeating and getting indigestion or burping.”

Having never been on stage or understood anything about singing, Ying Yuan couldn’t join their conversation and remained silent.

“Should we eat at a restaurant?” Zheng Yueling asked. “I wonder if any are still open.”

“Too many orders to eat out!” Yi Shanshan countered. “Let’s just order takeout at the hotel!”

“Great idea!” Zheng Yueling exclaimed. “Perfect timing with my assistant gone. No one to stop me from eating whatever I want!”

Yi Shanshan: “Let’s pig out! I’m only in a good mood when I’m full, and I can only work well when I’m in a good mood!”

Zheng Yueling: “Agreed, agreed!”

The two chatted animatedly.

As they talked, they turned and strolled back toward the dressing room, Ying Yuan on Yi Shanshan’s left and Zheng Yueling on her right. The three linked arms, forming a horizontal line that completely blocked the corridor.

Ying Yuan was once again left waiting outside the dressing room.

Yi Shanshan and Zheng Yueling went inside to change. Ying Yuan closed her eyes, refusing to imagine what might be happening inside.

This time, it didn’t take long. Soon, the two emerged in casual clothes.

Zheng Yueling, wearing a hat and mask, looked much more low-key. Yi Shanshan instinctively stuck close to Ying Yuan, maintaining a deliberate distance from Zheng Yueling.

The three descended the stairs and stepped outside. The night was deep, and the wind carried a sharp chill. Crowds of fans still lined the streets, tirelessly waiting for just a fleeting glimpse.

Once they reached a secluded spot, Zheng Yueling fell into step beside Yi Shanshan. She murmured, “Do you think this kind of one-sided, blind devotion has any meaning?”

Yi Shanshan gripped Ying Yuan’s arm, her palm warming the small stretch of forearm nestled within her hand.

“Of course it’s meaningful,” Yi Shanshan said. “Love is a wonderful thing. Whether you’re giving or receiving it, it brings happiness.”

Her words, spoken casually, resonated deeply with Ying Yuan.

Every syllable Yi Shanshan uttered struck Ying Yuan’s heart like a hammer.

When they arrived at the hotel, they went straight to Zheng Yueling’s room.

As soon as they stepped inside, Zheng Yueling let out a “whoop” and tossed her hat, mask, and backpack onto the entryway cabinet in one swift motion. She ruffled her hair, kicked off her shoes, and dashed into the bathroom.

“I’m going to take off my makeup first. Shanshan, why don’t you order dinner?”

“Got it,” Yi Shanshan replied, her voice tinged with fatigue.

Even though Ying Yuan shouldn’t be worrying about such trivial matters at a time like this, the emotional upheaval within her couldn’t extinguish that… desire to care for Yi Shanshan.

Her words flowed as naturally as a stream: “Aren’t you going to take off your makeup too?”

“I’ll do it later,” Yi Shanshan said.

“Wearing makeup for too long is uncomfortable, remember what you said? Especially stage makeup from a big event like this.” Ying Yuan pulled out her phone. “Go take yours off too. I’ll order dinner. Just tell me what you want to eat and any dietary restrictions.”

Yi Shanshan remained silent.

The sudden silence made Ying Yuan uneasy. She looked up to see Yi Shanshan staring at her with pouting lips and large, drooping eyes, like a pitiful, wronged kitten.

“What’s wrong?” Ying Yuan asked, her voice instinctively softening.

“Ooooooh~” Yi Shanshan dragged out the vowel sound, her pout deepening as she mumbled, “Ying Yuan~ you’re so good to me~~~”

Ying Yuan: “……”

Yi Shanshan blinked. “What would I do without you~?”

A wave of both joy and anguish washed over Ying Yuan. She lowered her gaze to avoid Yi Shanshan’s eyes, saying, “It’s nothing. Don’t worry about it.”

Afraid Yi Shanshan might say something else that would unsettle her, Ying Yuan quickly steered the conversation to the task at hand. “What flavor of dry-pot shrimp do you want? Can Ms. Zheng handle spicy food?”

The process now flowed smoothly. Yi Shanshan and Zheng Yueling went to the bathroom to remove their stage makeup, while Ying Yuan ordered food in the living room.

Stage makeup was troublesome to remove, requiring follow-up skincare, which took quite a while. Ying Yuan ordered food from several different restaurants based on their preferences, all to be delivered to the front desk to protect the artists’ privacy.

Ying Yuan made two trips to fetch the meals. By the time Yi Shanshan and Zheng Yueling emerged, she had everything unpacked and neatly arranged.

“Wow!” Zheng Yueling exclaimed, delighted. “Xiao Ying, you’re even more attentive than my assistant!”

Yi Shanshan settled down next to Ying Yuan, pressing their arms tightly together. “This is my super-duper assistant, Ling’er! You can’t steal her from me.”

Feeling slightly awkward, Ying Yuan, who rarely contradicted others in such situations, retorted, “I’m not an assistant. I’m just a hardworking student at A University.”

This made Yi Shanshan and Zheng Yueling burst into laughter.

Ying Yuan truly struggled to manage the atmosphere in such social settings. What she did best—and what she preferred—was to remain quiet, quietly observing everything.

Everyone began eating. Despite the lavish spread, Zheng Yueling ate very little. She barely took three or four bites of each dish before stopping, chewing each mouthful slowly and deliberately.

The food didn’t bring her joy; she seemed increasingly troubled with each bite. Midway through the meal, she glanced at her phone, her eyebrows drooping with worry, and her eyes quickly reddened.

Yi Shanshan asked solicitously, “Ling’er, what’s wrong? Is the food too spicy?”

Zheng Yueling glanced at Ying Yuan, who hadn’t yet grasped her meaning, when Yi Shanshan immediately chimed in, “Don’t worry, Ying Yuan is one of my very best friends—family, really. And she’s wonderful! She just loves reading and never gossips.”

Ying Yuan: “……”

Her emotions were a tangled mess.

“I trust you both,” Zheng Yueling blurted out, unable to hold back any longer. “My manager texted me again just now. I dread seeing her messages—she’s furious I left so early. She said even if nothing special happened, I should have stayed. Every person I could have networked with in the audience tonight would have been a major accomplishment… But I genuinely hate doing that kind of thing! I just love singing; all I want is to perform on stage…”

As she spoke, tears streamed down her face. Soon, not only were her eyes red, but her cheeks and the tip of her nose flushed crimson.

The sight was heartbreaking.

Yi Shanshan stood up, rounded the table, and sat beside Zheng Yueling. She gazed at her with genuine concern, listening intently. When Zheng Yueling’s sobs made it hard to breathe, Yi Shanshan gently patted her back.

Zheng Yueling poured out her heart, revealing her struggles as a newcomer signed to a ruthless company, burdened by countless grievances.

Ying Yuan finally understood what had happened in the dressing room that night. It wasn’t that Yi Shanshan needed Zheng Yueling; it was Zheng Yueling who needed Yi Shanshan.

When she was buried in Yi Shanshan’s arms, she was likely crying too, though silently. Yi Shanshan held her tightly.

Ying Yuan suddenly felt ashamed of her narrow-minded suspicions.

Emotions had truly clouded her judgment. When her feelings took over, she had stopped judging and verifying facts objectively.

Silently, Ying Yuan pushed the tissue box toward Zheng Yueling.

The churning flames of resentment in her heart had subsided, transforming into a gently swaying pool of water.

After venting her emotions, Zheng Yueling patted her chest and declared herself much better.

She resumed eating, this time with gusto, her mood visibly lifted.

Yi Shanshan didn’t return to Ying Yuan’s side. Instead, she stayed with Zheng Yueling, seated on the other side of the table, and the two began discussing everything related to singing.

They talked about which songs were the most beautiful, which vocal techniques were appropriate for certain passages, their most memorable vocal coaches, the past, dreams, and their hopes for the future.

Ying Yuan didn’t understand the technical details of their conversation and could only listen.

Ying Yuan knew Yi Shanshan was outgoing and lively, but she’d never heard her talk so much when they were together.

So much… just to talk for the sake of talking. So much chatting that she’d slap her thigh in excitement, her cheeks flushing pink.

Whenever Yi Shanshan spoke to Ying Yuan, it was always with the ulterior motive of getting a hug.

Once she got her hug, Yi Shanshan was content, quiet, and had no desire to do anything else.

Ying Yuan remained silent, the lake in her heart rippling softly, like raindrops pattering on its surface.

Outside the window, the night was deep and dark. After midnight, most of the city’s buildings had their lights extinguished. Ying Yuan’s heart felt equally dark, a void where she couldn’t find a single crack to pierce through the darkness.

Yi Shanshan was radiant and sunny, but she didn’t belong to Ying Yuan.

Finally, exhausted from talking, both women collapsed, completely drained of energy.

Ying Yuan habitually cleared the table, tidying up the mess, and then took two bottles of mineral water from the refrigerator and placed them on the table.

Zheng Yueling looked at her and repeated, “Ying Yuan, you’d really be perfect as an assistant.”

Yi Shanshan stood up, swaying slightly as if drunk, despite not having had any alcohol. “Hey, our Ying Yuan is a top student from A University! Having her work as an assistant is such a waste of talent!”

Ying Yuan walked over to Yi Shanshan, who leaned heavily against her, letting go of most of her weight.

Zheng Yueling: “Once I’m famous and start my own studio, you can be my personal manager. I’ll pay you so much.”

Yi Shanshan laughed. “Already eating the pie before it’s baked? Keep working hard.”

Zheng Yueling nodded. “Yeah, keep working hard.”

Yi Shanshan looped her arm through Ying Yuan’s. “I’m done. I need to sleep or I’ll pass out.”

As they left Zheng Yueling’s room, Yi Shanshan’s already unsteady steps grew even lighter and more floaty.

The hotel corridor was deserted late at night. Their footsteps made no sound on the thick carpet.

Yi Shanshan’s room wasn’t on the same floor as Zheng Yueling’s, and even the short walk to the elevator seemed to have drained all her remaining energy.

“Ying Yuan~” she murmured, her entire body leaning against Ying Yuan, her voice barely a whisper. “I’m so tired…”

“We’re almost there,” Ying Yuan replied. “You can sleep as soon as we get to your room.”

“I still need to take a bath~”

“You can shower tomorrow, or just rinse off quickly tonight. It’ll be quick.”

Yi Shanshan turned and buried her face in Ying Yuan’s neck. “Ugh… but I’m so tired…”

Ying Yuan wasn’t sure what she meant by that. Was it just a simple complaint, or was she making a request?

Ying Yuan couldn’t fathom what Yi Shanshan wanted. All she felt was Yi Shanshan’s breath warm against her skin, like a gentle spring breeze.

When the elevator arrived, Yi Shanshan refused to move. She whined sweetly, “Ying Yuan~ you should hold me! I’m going to fall~”

Ying Yuan: “……”

As if it were her fault! As if she hadn’t taken the initiative to hold Yi Shanshan, forcing her to cling to her with all her strength.

Helpless and watching the elevator doors about to close, Ying Yuan reluctantly wrapped her arm around Yi Shanshan’s back, pulling her securely into her embrace.

She practically shoved Yi Shanshan into the elevator.

“Hehehe…” Yi Shanshan chuckled secretly against Ying Yuan’s chest.

Ying Yuan gazed at their reflection in the elevator’s golden mirror. The two women were practically melded together, their pose even more intimate than what she’d witnessed in the dressing room the previous night.

Her cheeks flushed hot. The hand pressed against Yi Shanshan’s back tightened imperceptibly, drawing the clinging figure closer.

When they exited the elevator, Ying Yuan had to practically push Yi Shanshan out again.

The thick carpet in the hallway provided too much friction for her to push any further. Yi Shanshan, buried against Ying Yuan, indulged in her clinginess, refusing to lift her own feet.

A sudden realization flashed through Ying Yuan’s mind, and she blurted out a question that shocked even herself: “You… you want me to carry you back?”

Yi Shanshan looked up, her eyes sparkling. “Ah!” she exclaimed, nodding furiously. “Exactly! You finally understand!”

Ying Yuan: “……”

When only one answer remains, even the most absurd one becomes the answer Yi Shanshan craves.

In the early hours of the morning, in the hotel corridor, the two young women clung tightly together. Now… Yi Shanshan wanted Ying Yuan to scoop her up and carry her to their room, as if rushing toward some eagerly anticipated intimate encounter.

Ying Yuan’s throat went dry. Even the slightest thought in that direction sent a strange sensation rising from her lower abdomen, striking her heart like a physical blow.

“No,” she refused decisively, offering a flimsy excuse. “I can’t carry you.”

“Huh?” Yi Shanshan’s eyes widened, her expression deeply dissatisfied. “I only weigh ninety-something pounds! Are you saying I’m heavy?”

“You’re not heavy,” Ying Yuan retorted. “According to standard weight charts, you’re actually underweight. But I’m weak.”

Yi Shanshan: “……”

Ying Yuan: “Yeah, I’m really weak.”

Yi Shanshan fell silent, a rare moment of silence for her.

She gazed at Ying Yuan, who refused to meet her eyes, offering only the cold, sharp line of her jaw.

Yi Shanshan pushed herself out of Ying Yuan’s embrace and pinched her arm. “Young lady, don’t call yourself weak.”

She took a step forward, her brow furrowed. “If you’re weak, you need to train harder. You’re only nineteen and already weak? What will you do in all the years ahead?”

Ying Yuan followed behind, listening to her endless nagging.

Yi Shanshan continued, “No staying up late! Stop burying yourself in the library all day! You need more exercise—find a sport you enjoy, run around in the sun to get some vitamin D, eat properly, and work out regularly. Your body will get stronger…”

In just a few steps, they reached Yi Shanshan’s hotel room. She pulled out her keycard and opened the door.

“Oh, and remember to eat nutritious food. No more junk food! Junk food will only make you weaker—too much sugar and oil is terrible for your health…”

Ying Yuan didn’t argue. This topic clearly mattered deeply to Yi Shanshan; her words flowed more freely, her energy seemed renewed, and she wasn’t being clingy or melodramatic at all.

Perfect, Ying Yuan thought.

As she spoke, Yi Shanshan put down her bag, took off her coat, and changed her shoes.

Just as she was about to head to the bathroom, she stopped abruptly and turned to Ying Yuan. “Who’s showering first, you or me?”

Ying Yuan hesitated. “…You go ahead. I didn’t bring any change of clothes, so I won’t be showering today.”

Yi Shanshan: “I have plenty of new ones; just use mine.”

Ying Yuan glanced around the room. It was indeed a luxurious suite, with a spacious living area, a dedicated double vanity, a bathtub in the bathroom, but only one bed in the bedroom.

A lavish king-sized bed.

Ying Yuan: “I’ll go get another room later.”

Yi Shanshan: “???”

Yi Shanshan was genuinely starting to get angry. “It’s already after one in the morning, and you’re going to get another room? Ying Yuan, do you even know how expensive this place is?”

Ying Yuan: “……”

Yeah, it’s obviously pricey. And with the big event today, there probably aren’t any rooms available.

Ying Yuan: “I… I’ll check nearby hotels or guesthouses.”

Yi Shanshan slammed the object in her hand onto the floor. With two furious strides, she closed the distance between them, glaring at Ying Yuan. “Ying Yuan, if you were traveling with your roommate and it was this late, and you had a huge room like this, would you really spend extra money on another hotel?”

Ying Yuan thought for a moment, then admitted honestly, “No, I wouldn’t.”

Yi Shanshan: “So what makes me any different? Aren’t we close enough? Just because we don’t live together every day, does that mean I’m not even entitled to share a room with you now?”

Ying Yuan: “……”

If Yi Shanshan had asked her this question before today, she might have needed to think about it.

But now, her mind was both more chaotic and clearer than ever before.

What’s different about me?

Yes, you’re different from everyone else.

When other girls share a room with me, I maintain proper etiquette. I can control my eyes, nose, mouth, and emotions. I can draw clear boundaries between us, never coveting their beauty or intimacy. I feel no worry, no fear, no excessive joy, and certainly no unusual pain.

But with you…

All the chaos above exists.

All the rationality above collapses.

Ying Yuan’s lips moved slightly, but Yi Shanshan cut her off with a shout: “Don’t you dare lie!”

Ying Yuan: “……”

Yi Shanshan turned sideways and, after fiddling with something, the room door beeped, and an electronic female voice announced: “Door has been locked from the inside. To unlock, please enter the password.”

Ying Yuan: “…………”

Ying Yuan let out a long sigh.

As expected, with Yi Shanshan, once you concede the first step, every subsequent move is a mistake.

No matter which way she turned, Ying Yuan found herself falling into Yi Shanshan’s trap.

After a moment’s thought, she could only say, “Then… I’ll sleep on the sofa. It’s pretty big.”

Yi Shanshan: “……”

Yi Shanshan stopped talking to Ying Yuan, slipped her slippers on with a thwack and went back to the bathroom, slamming the door shut with a click.

Ying Yuan stood there dazed for a moment, noticing the white bag Yi Shanshan had been carrying still lying on the floor. She walked over and picked it up, intending to take it to Yi Shanshan.

The bag’s mouth gaped open, revealing sleepwear and underwear inside—all in pale beige.

Ying Yuan’s face flushed crimson instantly. The bag felt like a hot potato in her hands, burning so fiercely she nearly dropped it right then and there.

The sound of rushing water filled the bathroom. Yi Shanshan needed these things, and Ying Yuan couldn’t decide whether to hand them over or throw them away.

Frozen in place again, Ying Yuan’s mind churned into a chaotic mess.

She could think of a million things, but she dared not think of any of them. Overwhelmed by confusion and anxiety, she began reciting the periodic table of elements and physics formulas in her head, trying to drown out the chaos.

The water ran for a while, though not too long.

Yi Shanshan was truly exhausted today, and she took a quick shower.

The moment the water stopped, all the formulas in Ying Yuan’s mind ground to a halt, leaving behind a blank, white emptiness.

She waited, listening to her own heartbeat pounding like a drum in the silent room.

“Ying Yuan…” Yi Shanshan finally called out.

Ying Yuan jolted to her feet, practically teleporting to the bathroom door in an instant.

Through the frosted glass, Yi Shanshan’s hazy silhouette shimmered in the mist, her voice faint as if floating within the steam.

“I… forgot something…”

Ying Yuan’s throat tightened. She turned her head away, extending only her hand through the crack in the door.

“This?”

The bathroom door swung open, releasing a surge of heat. Even though Ying Yuan only showed the back of her head, she still closed her eyes.

The item was taken from her hand. Yi Shanshan confirmed, “That’s it.”

Ying Yuan quickly withdrew her hand.

The door remained half-open, and Ying Yuan heard the rustling of clothes behind her, accompanied by Yi Shanshan’s soft, lilting voice: “I’m done showering. My suitcase is next to the wardrobe; there’s another bag like this inside. Grab it and go wash up too.”

“I…” Ying Yuan stammered.

“You can’t go to bed smelling like that!” Yi Shanshan retorted.

“……Fine,” Ying Yuan relented.

Yi Shanshan brightened, suddenly stepping close and wrapping her arms around Ying Yuan’s waist.

Ying Yuan’s stomach tightened, a tingling sensation like an electric current coursing through her body.

She froze, Yi Shanshan’s pale arms imprisoning her as they shifted restlessly.

“Hmm…” Yi Shanshan murmured. “The size should fit.”

What size? Ying Yuan nearly lost it.

She grabbed Yi Shanshan’s wrist, yanked her arm away, and threw it aside, then hurried toward the wardrobe. “I’ll go right now.”

“Okay~” Yi Shanshan chirped, utterly delighted. Dressed in a loose cotton nightgown, her long, soft hair hanging loose, she pattered into the bedroom. As she passed Ying Yuan, she deliberately swayed in front of her, teasingly.

Ying Yuan wished she could simply go blind.

But even blindness wouldn’t help.

She stepped into the bathroom, the lingering mist and heat enveloping her face.

The confined space was saturated with Yi Shanshan’s scent, clinging to her like a second skin, inescapable.

Suddenly, Ying Yuan understood why Yi Shanshan had said, lying on her bed that day, “Ying Yuan, your bed smells so nice.”

Now, the bathroom smelled just as nice.

And Ying Yuan had to strip off her clothes, one by one, in this intoxicating fragrance, to stand under the showerhead where Yi Shanshan had just stood, and wash her body.

As the water cascaded down, Ying Yuan closed her eyes, realizing she was completely drenched from head to toe.

She lingered in the bathroom for quite a while, hoping Yi Shanshan would be asleep by the time she emerged.

But the moment she cracked open the door, she saw Yi Shanshan standing outside, bare-armed and bare-legged, clutching a pillow, gazing at her sleepily.

“Ying Yuan~” she murmured softly, yawning hugely after uttering just her name. “Let’s… sleep together in bed? It’s really big… It won’t disturb your rest…”

Most of the lights in the room were off, leaving only a few warm, soft glows to pierce the darkness. Yi Shanshan’s hair was tousled, clearly from having lain down earlier and then gotten up to wait for her.

Yi Shanshan looked like a drowsy, blinking star, melting Ying Yuan’s heart into a pool of tenderness.

Another yawn escaped Yi Shanshan, misting her eyes. She slowly, earnestly continued to persuade Ying Yuan, “There aren’t any extra blankets. If you sleep on the sofa, you’ll be so cold. Plus, it’s way too soft—your back will ache all night…”

Ying Yuan felt it was all her fault.

All her fault—for harboring so many strange thoughts, for concealing her unusual desires from others, for developing feelings and possessiveness toward Yi Shanshan that she shouldn’t have.

It was all her fault. Yi Shanshan was innocent.

Yi Shanshan had to attend classes at school and participate in countless extracurricular activities. For such a major event, she didn’t even have an assistant. She had practiced and waited so long, worked tirelessly all day, and now, at 2:00 a.m., she still couldn’t get a proper night’s sleep.

She had promised Yi Shanshan she would help her. Now, standing here, her own selfish desires prevented her from fulfilling that promise.

Ying Yuan frowned, disliking herself.

Yi Shanshan, who had been watching her every subtle expression, took a step forward and gently clasped one of Ying Yuan’s fingers. “Ying Yuan, let’s go,” she whispered.

In the surrounding silence, Ying Yuan felt as though she had drifted into a sweet dream.

Led by Yi Shanshan, that slender finger connecting them felt both fragile and significant.

They reached the luxurious bed, its duvet like soft clouds.

Yi Shanshan tossed aside the pillow she had been holding and climbed onto the bed, still gently tugging on Ying Yuan’s finger.

Ying Yuan had no choice but to climb onto the bed as well, lying down on one side as Yi Shanshan wished.

Yi Shanshan finally released her finger, reached up, and switched off the light. The last glimmer of light vanished completely into the darkness.

Darkness.

Profound, silent darkness.

As if it could swallow all appearances and realities, blurring every thought into a flowing river, letting it ripple gently.

Ying Yuan closed her eyes, still as stone.

Yi Shanshan stirred gently beneath the covers, the soft, cloud-like fabric lifting and falling in subtle waves.

She crept closer to Ying Yuan, pressing against her.

No matter how large the bed, Yi Shanshan would always cling tightly to her side.

They had never embraced lying down like this before. At first, Yi Shanshan held Ying Yuan’s arm, then slid her hand across her abdomen, drawing Ying Yuan into a tight embrace.

Her cheek pressed against Ying Yuan’s arm, rubbing up and down.

After only a moment, she felt it wasn’t enough.

“Ying Yuan… Ying Yuan…” she whispered in the darkness, “Could you turn on your side? Toward me?”

It wasn’t an unreasonable request. After all, when they embraced standing, this was the side that pressed together.

Ying Yuan swallowed, still resisting the urge to open her eyes or move unnecessarily. She simply turned onto her side as Yi Shanshan wished, lying still.

Yi Shanshan nestled closer, curling herself into a ball and tucking herself into Ying Yuan’s embrace.

Soft, sweet, like the world’s finest cloud, Yi Shanshan nestled against Ying Yuan’s chest, exhaling a long, contented sigh. Ying Yuan finally understood Yi Shanshan’s mood completely. If she had to describe her own feelings right now… she could only think, with blunt crudeness:

Fuck, this feels so good.

Yi Shanshan’s warm breath brushed against her chest. “Ying Yuan,” she murmured, “hold me tighter. I’m about to slip away.”

This place felt utterly safe, nothing like school, where they always had to worry about someone barging in.

Here, in this luxurious hotel with its top-notch security, Yi Shanshan had bolted the door, drawn the heavy curtains tight, and ensured they were completely alone.

Ying Yuan raised her arms, obeying her unspoken command.

But Yi Shanshan wasn’t satisfied yet.

She fidgeted restlessly in Ying Yuan’s arms, trying one position, then another, never quite finding the angle that pleased her most.

With a sudden surge, she sat up in the dark, looming over Ying Yuan like a dark shadow. She began manipulating her like a large, pliable toy.

“Ying Yuan, this doesn’t feel right. Not like this.”

Ying Yuan opened her eyes and saw Yi Shanshan’s silhouette in the darkness, her pale form glowing faintly like moonlight on a lake.

“Then how should we do it?” she murmured, her voice hoarse as if she’d been drinking or had a bad cold.

“Just lie flat,” Yi Shanshan said, flipping back the covers and scooting over significantly. “Come lie in the very middle.”

Having reached this point, Ying Yuan felt a dark, destructive urge rise within her. She wanted to shatter all moral boundaries and societal rules, to let her desires run wild. She even thought that the most terrifying consequences weren’t truly consequences at all. If she missed this moment—if she lacked the courage to submit to Yi Shanshan now—that would be the regret that haunted her for the rest of her life.

Perhaps this was her last chance to embrace Yi Shanshan, to be this intimately close to her.

The rippling lake within her had transformed into a boiling tidal surge, threatening to engulf everything.

“Okay,” she replied to Yi Shanshan, and to herself.

Following Yi Shanshan’s instructions, she lay down in the very center of the large bed, her eyes wide open, recording every detail of this night.

Yi Shanshan leaned in, her boldness breathtakingly daring.

She parted her legs, straddling Ying Yuan’s body, kneeling above her, her long hair cascading down as she slowly lowered herself.

She settled onto Ying Yuan’s lower abdomen.

The thin fabric offered no barrier against the heat radiating between their bodies, like the merging warmth of two suns, so comforting it made Ying Yuan sigh.

“Will this be too heavy?” Yi Shanshan asked solicitously, carefully shifting her weight downward, afraid she might crush Ying Yuan.

“Not heavy,” Ying Yuan murmured, two low syllables rumbling from her throat.

“That’s good.” Yi Shanshan leaned down further, maximizing their contact. Not just their torsos, but limbs too—every part of her that could press against Ying Yuan, she piled on.

“Under the same weight, increasing the contact area reduces the pressure,” Yi Shanshan couldn’t resist sharing a bit of physics trivia.

“Mm…” Ying Yuan’s rebellious streak flared. “I’m not that frail.”

Yi Shanshan chuckled, her giggles vibrating through Ying Yuan’s body.

Ying Yuan had never felt another person’s presence so intimately—her voice, her breath, her body, even her… soul.

At this moment, Yi Shanshan’s soul must be a joyful little fox, a reddish-brown vixen with a long, pointed snout and enchanting, crescent-shaped eyes.

The little fox lay nestled against her, shedding all fatigue and weariness. Her belly was full, the campfire warmed their shelter, and a profound sense of contentment settled over her, as if she had finally come home.

“Let’s just sleep like this,” Yi Shanshan murmured, her voice brimming with amusement. “Ying Yuan, you be my bed.”