My Straight Girlfriend with Skin Hunger Syndrome - Chapter 27

Chapter 27

This was our first day.

Which meant there would be a second, a third, a fourth…

Yi Shanshan appeared to have regained her composure, agreeing to all of Ying Yuan’s conditions. Yet beneath the surface simmered an indomitable spirit, as if she would endure any hardship and resort to any means to achieve her goals.

Ying Yuan’s heart pounded under Shanshan’s intense gaze, not from fascination, but from fear.

Now, Ying Yuan was grappling with an incomprehensible question: why would Yi Shanshan willingly forgo a chance to embrace her, just to continue this torment?

Was this a roundabout tactic?

Was she trying to confuse her enemy, then strike when they least expected it?

But as long as Ying Yuan held firm to her bottom line, Yi Shanshan would never succeed.

Was it worth investing so much time and energy into such a slim, uncontrollable possibility?

Wasn’t this putting the cart before the horse?

Wouldn’t the optimal solution be to find a more suitable target?

Ying Yuan’s mind swirled with questions, but she knew Yi Shanshan would never provide answers.

Just as an opponent never reveals their trump card for free, just as Ying Yuan would never answer Yi Shanshan’s eighth question.

Ying Yuan stood there, dazed and bewildered, accepting Yi Shanshan’s challenge.

With those words, Yi Shanshan turned and strode away, pulling her suitcase behind her. The wheels clunk-clunk-clunked like a battle horn blaring in the morning light.

Ying Yuan remained rooted to the spot for a long moment, until Yi Shanshan’s figure had completely vanished from sight. Only then did she finally move forward.

Her destination remained the library, but her composure had been irrevocably shattered.

She avoided the Reference Room, her usual haunt, now tainted by indelible memories.

Yi Shanshan, her starlike eyes glittering through the gaps in the bookshelves, had once grabbed her sleeve, demanding answers, tempting her, sulking with her, and even clinging to her like a child.

Ying Yuan cherished these memories, but she couldn’t bear to relive them.

Ultimately, she chose the Chinese and Foreign Literature Hall on the third floor. With its vast collection of novels and engaging reading material, it was usually the most crowded part of the library.

After finding a secluded corner seat, Ying Yuan meticulously planned her study schedule for the day. Only then did she finally regain enough composure to begin studying.

She dove in headfirst, utterly focused.

Two hours passed in a blur, Ying Yuan’s rear never leaving the hard bench.

Having finished her current task, she tilted her head back, closed her eyes, and stretched her neck before reaching for her water bottle to refill it.

The chair scraped lightly against the floor. It was ten o’clock, and the Literature Hall was nearly full. Amidst the sea of dark, clustered heads, Ying Yuan’s gaze inevitably landed on Yi Shanshan.

Yi Shanshan sat at a table diagonally ahead and to her left. She had changed into an outfit completely different from the one she’d worn that morning, her hair neatly tied in a low ponytail. A pale pink blouse with wavy lace trim framed her face.

Wearing light makeup, her complexion glowed. Her long eyelashes fluttered like butterfly wings, framing lips as red as ripe cherries and teeth as white as fresh snow.

Ying Yuan’s heart skipped a beat when she first saw her.

But she quickly realized that Yi Shanshan wasn’t paying her any attention.

Leaning her cheek against her hand, she was intently reading a book, turning the pages slowly, oblivious to everything else.

Ying Yuan closed her eyes briefly and took a silent, deep breath.

She carefully slipped out of her seat, moving with utmost caution to avoid making a sound.

After successfully leaving the Literature Hall, Ying Yuan couldn’t resist stealing another glance at Yi Shanshan as she rounded the corner by the door.

Yi Shanshan was still reading, her beautiful nape the only part visible from this angle.

Maybe she really is here to study, Ying Yuan thought.

Though she’d never encountered Yi Shanshan studying in the library before, nor heard her mention coming here, every student at A University had the right and freedom to use the library.

Ying Yuan didn’t know when Yi Shanshan had arrived or how long she’d been there. But whether it was two minutes or an hour, Yi Shanshan hadn’t disturbed her.

Ying Yuan had no reason to criticize her. As Yi Shanshan had said, You can’t avoid seeing me at this university.

Seeing Yi Shanshan and treating her normally was a mandatory course Ying Yuan needed to work hard at mastering.

Ying Yuan exhaled deeply and continued toward the water room.

After refilling her cup, she returned to her original seat via the same route.

Yi Shanshan was still there, still reading.

Slowly, another page turned.

Clutching her water cup, Ying Yuan sat motionless for a long moment before finally resuming her studies.

This time, she studied straight through until lunchtime.

People began leaving one by one. Ying Yuan glanced out of the corner of her eye at Yi Shanshan, who was deeply engrossed in her book, already more than halfway through.

Throughout, Shanshan hadn’t moved once, her attention riveted to the book, her posture shifting only slightly.

She was utterly captivated.

Just as Ying Yuan was secretly observing her, Yi Shanshan suddenly stood up.

As if caught spying, Ying Yuan quickly averted her gaze and deliberately turned her head away.

Now completely unable to see Yi Shanshan, she couldn’t tell what was happening over there.

Indistinct sounds reached her ears, their source and origin unclear.

Ying Yuan continued to feign studying, trembling with anxiety. She was terrified that Yi Shanshan would suddenly approach, sit close beside her, and start spouting those strange, cryptic words again.

As time ticked by, the lunchtime rush subsided. The surrounding noise dwindled to almost nothing. Only then did Ying Yuan dare to glance sideways once more.

Yi Shanshan was long gone from her spot.

All that remained were a few books and two pens, marking her territory like a placeholder.

Yi Shanshan had been reading all morning. She placed the book on top, marking the page with a beautiful silver bookmark.

Ying Yuan suddenly felt an overwhelming urge to know what book could be so captivating.

Summoning her courage, she turned her head completely to glimpse the cover. It was deep gray, sparsely decorated, resembling a classic series from a particular publisher.

Which one could it be?

The question burrowed into Ying Yuan’s mind, taking root like a stubborn weed.

She glanced around—the area was deserted; Yi Shanshan was nowhere to be seen.

If I just pretend to be passing by, I can see the title.

Clutching her water cup, Ying Yuan stood up, feigning a hasty trip to the water cooler. She deliberately took a roundabout path, positioning herself for a clear view of the book’s spine.

Ah, I see… it’s… “The Idiot.”

Feeling as if the two large, bold characters had personally insulted her, Ying Yuan flinched inwardly, hastily straightened her posture, and hurried out the door.

Dostoevsky’s “The Idiot”! I never imagined Yi Shanshan would be reading this. Even among Dostoevsky’s novels, which are already considered niche classics, “The Idiot” is practically obscure.

It wasn’t hard to understand why someone might be absorbed in Dostoevsky’s books. Ying Yuan herself was a great admirer, finding his profound and extreme explorations of human nature and the self utterly captivating.

Which translation is Yi Shanshan reading? Ying Yuan wondered. She hadn’t been able to see clearly in her earlier hurried glance.

This new question consumed her thoughts, preventing her from reaching the washroom and prompting her to turn back.

Now that there are fewer people around, I can take another look.

With growing confidence, Ying Yuan circled back to Yi Shanshan’s seat. This time, she not only examined the book’s cover details but also noticed the silver bookmark nestled within—an intricately carved Rococo design, exquisitely elegant.

This edition… is quite rare, Ying Yuan mused. The translation probably isn’t as good as the two more commonly discussed versions.

Lowering her gaze in thought, Ying Yuan pondered whether to recommend a better translation to Yi Shanshan. After all, the translator’s interpretation could significantly influence one’s understanding of the original author’s style.

“Hey, what are you doing?” someone asked from behind her.

Ying Yuan nearly jumped out of her skin. Yi Shanshan’s voice was like a magical incantation, capable of instantly stirring every intense emotion within her.

Now she’d truly become an idiot. What did it matter to her which book Yi Shanshan was reading or which translation it was?

Was it worth her sneaking around again and again? Was it worth knowingly courting danger, getting caught red-handed?

She was the one who had declared she wanted to sever ties with Yi Shanshan, yet here she stood before Yi Shanshan’s desk. How could she possibly explain herself? Her embarrassment was so overwhelming she couldn’t even turn to face Yi Shanshan.

Ying Yuan stood frozen, but Yi Shanshan wouldn’t let such a perfect moment pass.

She strolled leisurely over to Ying Yuan, clasped her hands behind her back, and leaned forward to study Ying Yuan’s expression.

“Hey, classmate,” Yi Shanshan said, tilting her chin toward Ying Yuan’s seat. “If I remember correctly, you’ve been sitting over there all morning. Even when you went to get water, you didn’t pass by my desk, did you?”

“Interested in my book?” Yi Shanshan’s lips curled into her signature fox-like smirk, radiating smugness. “If you’re curious, just ask! This is a library, after all. It’s perfectly normal to be interested in books.”

Ying Yuan’s face burned crimson. She felt like a petty thief caught in the act.

She tried desperately to avoid Yi Shanshan’s gaze, but Yi Shanshan’s beautiful face kept appearing before her, vivid and inescapable.

Yi Shanshan’s eyes held the brilliance of distant stars; her nose was delicately upturned and animated; her lips, glossy with a honey-like lip gloss, opened and closed like sparkling gems.

“I…” Ying Yuan felt the heat rising from her cheeks to her chest. She turned her head away, blurting out the truth in her extreme embarrassment: “I just think other versions might be better.”

“Hmm?” Yi Shanshan looked genuinely surprised. “What versions?”

Ying Yuan’s heart pounded so hard it constricted her breathing. Deciding to follow the topic, she found her mind strangely clearing.

“Xinhua Wenxuan’s Geng Jizhi edition, or Shanghai Translation’s Rong Rude edition. Those are considered classics.”

“Are classics always better? Or maybe they just got in early?” Yi Shanshan tilted her head, studying her.

“Versions that have been reprinted many times are likely popular with most readers. Of course, everyone has different tastes, so you’ll have to experience them for yourself.”

“Isn’t that exactly what I’m doing right now?” Yi Shanshan countered.

Ying Yuan lowered her head completely. “Yes, you’re right. I’m sorry.”

“Why are you apologizing?” Yi Shanshan’s voice lifted slightly, her tone buoyant. “You haven’t done anything wrong, classmate. You just gave me another version to compare. After reading both, I’ll know which one I like better, right?”

Ying Yuan, unsure of Yi Shanshan’s intentions, could only respond, “Right.”

Yi Shanshan continued, “I’m the type who, once I find a version I love, I’ll read it over and over, buy countless copies in different editions to collect. Even if I lose a whole stack, I’ll just find another one…”

Ying Yuan couldn’t shake the feeling that Yi Shanshan’s words held hidden meaning, though it was just as likely that her own guilty conscience was making her overthink things.

Having no counterargument, Ying Yuan simply nodded.

“Aren’t you going to lunch, classmate?” Yi Shanshan asked, reaching for a pair of headphones on the desk. “I was already halfway there when I realized I’d forgotten them.”

“Yeah, I was just about to go,” Ying Yuan replied instinctively to the casual question.

But as soon as the words left her lips, she snapped to attention. This might be a trap.

Yi Shanshan was going to eat, and Ying Yuan wanted to go too. That meant Yi Shanshan could smoothly invite her to join. Even if she refused, she’d inevitably face some coaxing and persistence.

Ying Yuan immediately backtracked, scrambling to repair the damage. “But not right now… I need to…”

She desperately searched for an excuse. “Just… read a bit more.”

Yi Shanshan gazed at her, her beautiful eyes slowly scanning her from head to toe, as if seeing through every lie and flicker of panic.

Ying Yuan unconsciously tensed, even considering fleeing before the verdict came.

But Yi Shanshan simply said, “Alright, then stay a while longer.”

Her tone was casual and natural, devoid of any ulterior motives—no attempt to prolong the conversation, create opportunities to spend time together, or tease Ying Yuan.

Grabbing her headphones, Yi Shanshan turned to leave. “While you’re at it, could you help me find the other two versions of The Idiot you mentioned?”

Ying Yuan: “……”

Silence fell, born of unexpectedness, a silence tinged with an unnameable… disappointment at a failed anticipation.

Yi Shanshan waved dismissively, leaving Ying Yuan with a sharp, efficient exit. “Just put it on my desk when you find it. Bye~”

And just like that, she was gone.

Really, just like that.

No extra words, no lingering touch.

They truly acted like complete strangers, exchanging only a few remarks about a boring book topic.

Ying Yuan knew Yi Shanshan’s name, but Yi Shanshan didn’t even know hers, simply calling her “classmate.”

Ying Yuan stood frozen for a moment, then walked over to the bookshelf to start looking for the book for Yi Shanshan.

I volunteered for this, so I might as well do it, she thought. But as she placed the book on Yi Shanshan’s desk, a nagging thought crept into her mind:

Is Yi Shanshan always this comfortable bossing around strangers?

Does she always communicate so effortlessly and naturally with strangers?

Yi Shanshan will definitely be at the library this afternoon. Should I stay here too?

Staying would inevitably fill her with anxiety, but fleeing before the enemy had even shown a hint of their intentions seemed cowardly.

Besides, in a school this small, could she really hide?