My Straight Girlfriend with Skin Hunger Syndrome - Chapter 3
Chapter 3
The faculty dining hall was tucked deep in the northern part of campus, rarely frequented by students on ordinary days.
Ying Yuan ascended to the third floor and, without contacting Yi Shanshan, located the private room where she was.
Since the private rooms here had no curtains, they were half-open, and anyone who looked closely could see who was inside.
Moreover, Yi Shanshan’s group was large and noisy—it was the music academy crowd, all with striking, rainbow-colored hair.
Ying Yuan stood in a corner of the main hall, watching the private room.
Yi Shanshan hadn’t lied to her. The Student Union members were indeed inside. Ying Yuan had dealt with the Student Union during the recent sports festival, and they had been quite a nuisance.
Now, the Student Union members and the rainbow-haired crowd were singing, shouting, and drinking merrily together. Yi Shanshan didn’t seem out of place at all.
She was too radiant, always smiling, perfectly suited for any glitzy, lively, and decadent setting.
They showed no signs of wrapping things up soon.
Ying Yuan’s phone remained silent, with no new messages from Yi Shanshan.
Ying Yuan simply sat down at a dining table in the main hall, wondering if she should get something to eat.
Even as she thought this, her gaze remained fixed on Yi Shanshan. In just one minute, Yi Shanshan smiled twice, picked up a bite of food but didn’t eat it, and didn’t touch her phone.
Ying Yuan continued to wait. Though Yi Shanshan had promised, “I’ll wait for you,” it was always Ying Yuan who ended up doing the waiting.
The sunlight began to turn golden, streaming through the square windows and casting a radiant glow at Ying Yuan’s feet.
Outside, the trees were sprouting new buds, their tender green hues heralding spring’s arrival—a season of singing birds and dancing butterflies.
Wasting time.
Finally, twilight began to seep through the window, and Yi Shanshan’s posture betrayed her weariness. She pulled out her phone, tapped the screen lightly, and typed a message.
Ying Yuan received a WeChat message from Yi Shanshan:
– Baby, are you still not done showering?
– I’m going to scrub my skin raw.
Ying Yuan lowered her gaze and replied: I’m outside.
Yi Shanshan turned her head and saw Ying Yuan sitting exactly where she could see her with a simple glance—a solitary figure, like a meticulously pruned tree.
Yi Shanshan grinned, immediately stood up, and waved at Ying Yuan, drawing everyone’s attention to her.
Ying Yuan lifted her gaze, met the sea of eyes, and remained silent.
Yi Shanshan winked playfully and gestured toward the terrace.
Ying Yuan rose and walked toward the terrace. Yi Shanshan turned back to bid everyone a cheerful farewell, then grabbed her coat and bag, hurrying after Ying Yuan.
The terrace was bathed in sunlight, offering a clear view of the lush, verdant forest blanketing the mountain behind the building.
As soon as Yi Shanshan approached Ying Yuan, she seized her arm and pulled her from the bright terrace into the dimly lit stairwell.
“I’ve been waiting for you forever,” she murmured, leaning closer to Ying Yuan. “Did you just get here?”
The gentle spring breeze carried a warm, sweet fragrance.
Yi Shanshan embraced Ying Yuan completely, pressing her head against her chest. Dissatisfied with the minimal skin contact, she frowned and pulled back.
Discarding her coat and bag, she tossed them onto the rusty railing with a careless flick of her wrist.
She reached out to unzip Ying Yuan’s jacket, muttering, “Cold.”
Before Ying Yuan could react, the zipper slid all the way down. Yi Shanshan squeezed back into her embrace, her slender arms wrapping around Ying Yuan’s waist beneath the jacket, clinging tightly.
Ying Yuan nearly stumbled from the force of the embrace.
Clinging to her warmth, Yi Shanshan finally exhaled a long, contented sigh, like a bird returning to its nest.
“Mmm… feels so good…”
Ying Yuan: “……”
Ying Yuan could do nothing but let Yi Shanshan do whatever pleased her.
Being hugged by Yi Shanshan wasn’t inherently unpleasant. The slight unease and restlessness existed only in Ying Yuan’s heart, like ants crawling or feathers brushing against her cheek, stirring unease and apprehension.
Even in her anxiety, she dared not deepen her breath. She forcefully suppressed all her senses, transforming herself into an oblivious, unfeeling statue. As she thought this, her limbs felt rigid and cold.
But the next moment, Yi Shanshan sighed, “So soft~”
Ying Yuan: “……”
Yi Shanshan: “So fragrant and soft! Girls are the best thing in the world~~”
Ying Yuan: “…………”
Yi Shanshan closed her eyes, beaming with delight. “I feel so lucky! You were showering when I called, and then you came to hug me right after. So clean, so fresh, so refreshing~”
Ying Yuan: “You must be tired today?”
Yi Shanshan looked up at her, eyes sparkling with excitement. “Wow, you’re worried about me! Yeah, yeah, I’m super tired! So much to do, and I even ran the 800 meters! Second place, excluding the athletes!”
Ying Yuan: “If you’re tired, stop talking and get some rest.”
Yi Shanshan: “……”
That’s right. For Yi Shanshan, hugging Ying Yuan was about comfort, rest, and pleasure—anything but spiritual connection.
Since Ying Yuan had put it that way, Yi Shanshan didn’t press the matter. She leaned closer against Ying Yuan’s chest, feeling the warmth of her skin and the steady rhythm of her heartbeat.
But restless by nature, Yi Shanshan surreptitiously withdrew her hand from behind Ying Yuan’s waist and reached out to grasp her wrist, fingers burrowing into her sleeve.
Her fingertips, cool against Ying Yuan’s skin, left a slick trail as they wormed deeper, pushing the fabric of Ying Yuan’s sleeve up to her elbow.
Back and forth, they rubbed.
“I like summer,” Yi Shanshan finally blurted out. “People wear less in summer.”
The setting sun dipped lower, gradually disappearing behind the mountains. The corridor grew darker, as if night had already fallen.
Yi Shanshan nestled against Ying Yuan’s chest, her breathing long and even, as if she had drifted off to sleep.
Ying Yuan stared at the small patch of sky visible ahead, having mastered the art of spacing out at nothing.
With no urgency to end the moment, Ying Yuan had no idea when it would conclude.
Fortunately, the sound of approaching footsteps grew louder. Yi Shanshan opened her eyes, and just as the footsteps were about to reach them, Ying Yuan gently pushed her away.
The warmth on her chest vanished abruptly. Ying Yuan lowered her gaze and zipped up her jacket with practiced speed.
Yi Shanshan stood there, slightly dazed, her hair disheveled like a rabbit startled awake from a sweet dream.
“Someone’s coming,” Ying Yuan murmured.
Before the words were even finished, she had already distanced herself from Yi Shanshan, her legs carrying her smoothly out of the stairwell and toward the terrace.
The sky had transformed into a breathtaking deep blue, tinged with streaks of vibrant crimson along the horizon.
Ying Yuan tucked her hands into her coat pockets, striking a pose as if admiring the celestial display.
The entire sequence flowed with effortless grace. Barring any unforeseen circumstances, today’s embrace would end with this minor interruption. Yi Shanshan would leave the terrace, while Ying Yuan, after enjoying the view, would return to her peaceful, undisturbed life.
But fate, like a capricious string, strummed at the strings of destiny, mocking all who dared to presume control.
“Ying Yuan!” someone called out, the voice familiar yet unexpected. “What are you doing here?”
Ying Yuan turned to see Lina’s face, her expression one of genuine surprise.
Lina hurried over, asking with a smile, “Weren’t you going to the library?”
Ying Yuan, never one for lying, could only stammer evasively, “I… haven’t gone yet.”
“Oh, so you’re here for dinner too,” Lina remarked. “You must have taken quite a long shower then.”
Ying Yuan didn’t respond. Yi Shanshan stood in the building’s shadow, arms crossed, watching them intently with a fixed, expressionless gaze.
Lina moved to Ying Yuan’s side, stretched lazily, and glanced at the sunset Ying Yuan had been pretending to admire earlier.
“I heard they’re letting us use student meal cards here these days, so I came to check it out. I had soup dumplings on the first floor. What about you?”
Ying Yuan turned back, deftly evading the question with another rhetorical gambit. “Were the soup dumplings good?”
“Pretty decent,” Lina replied, “just a bit too much mushroom.”
“You’re eating late,” Ying Yuan observed.
“I was originally headed to the first cafeteria, but it was packed—no seats anywhere. And you made me feel all sweaty and uncomfortable, so I went back for a shower.”
“Oh,” Ying Yuan replied.
A brief silence hung in the air.
Lina: “I’m really surprised you came to cheer me on today. We’ve barely exchanged a few words before. Mostly because you never talk. Our class already has so few girls, and when you don’t speak, it feels like there’s one fewer.”
Ying Yuan: “…Mm.”
Lina: “It’s still nice, though. At least someone came specifically for me, unlike that school flower from the music academy who’s always surrounded by admirers, under everyone’s gaze…”
Ying Yuan’s heart skipped a beat.
Lina: “Ugh, never mind, let’s not talk about it anymore. The more I say, the more it sounds like I care. You know, I bet someone like that ‘most popular’ person gets pretty annoyed having to deal with so many people all the time.”
They must get pretty annoyed, Ying Yuan thought. Otherwise, they wouldn’t have such peculiar habits.
“They do get pretty annoyed.”
Someone gave her a definitive answer.
Ying Yuan whirled around in shock to see Yi Shanshan emerge from the shadows. She leisurely shrugged on her coat and slung her exquisitely crafted handbag over her shoulder.
With a casual flick of her wrist, her hair smoothed back into perfect order. She glided toward Ying Yuan and Lina, her every step more graceful than an ordinary person’s walk, as if she were bathed in a spotlight.
Ying Yuan didn’t know what Yi Shanshan wanted. She glanced at Lina, who wore the same shocked expression.
Yi Shanshan showed no discomfort under their unwavering stares. She approached them, her voice as calm and measured as ever. “Classmates, were you discussing me just now?”
She offered a shallow smile, a superficial apology etched on her face. “Ah, if I’ve inadvertently claimed the title of ‘school beauty,’ I’m terribly sorry.”