My Straight Girlfriend with Skin Hunger Syndrome - Chapter 35

Chapter 35

Ying Yuan had never encountered such a direct question about her sexuality in real life.

Her sexual awakening began online during middle school. As her youthful feelings budded, she began to contemplate “love,” quickly realizing she was only interested in girls.

During that period, she devoured countless films, TV shows, and novels, experiencing love, hatred, and passion again and again through these fictional works.

Later, her intense focus on romantic themes waned. Like discovering a new world, she would soon rush off to another.

Rather than seeking validation by flaunting her minority sexual orientation, Ying Yuan was more concerned about the potential complications it might bring.

The wind rustled through the trees, creating a constant swishing sound. Qi Hongyue was still waiting for her answer.

Ying Yuan finally found her voice.

“Why are you asking this?” she asked, looking at Qi Hongyue. “Surely personal life has nothing to do with the project work?”

“It has everything to do with it,” Qi Hongyue replied bluntly. “I don’t hire men because they disgust me, and hiring only women makes it easier to attract lesbians looking for romance.”

“This project is for work, not for romance,” Ying Yuan insisted.

“I won’t let personal feelings interfere with my work,” she declared.

Ying Yuan should have delivered that line with absolute confidence, but her voice faltered midway through the sentence, betraying her insecurity.

While it was true that she hadn’t joined the project to find romance, half her motivation was actually to avoid it.

“It seems you are indeed… bent,” Qi Hongyue concluded, her tone flat. “Remember your promise. Our group’s first rule is: no romantic relationships between members.”

“Understood! No problem!” Ying Yuan replied, her voice ringing with forced enthusiasm.

Qi Hongyue: “Are you involved in any other clubs or organizations?”

Ying Yuan: “No.”

Qi Hongyue: “Besides classes, do you have much free time?”

Understanding her implication, Ying Yuan replied, “Apart from classes, I can dedicate all my remaining time to the project.”

A faint smile flickered in Qi Hongyue’s eyes. “What about right now?”

Ying Yuan tugged at her backpack strap. “Let’s go.”

Qi Hongyue nodded in satisfaction.

She immediately turned and led Ying Yuan out of the room, wasting no time. She began explaining the project’s current progress in programming and the challenges they were facing.

When Qi Hongyue detailed specific operational difficulties, Ying Yuan promptly offered her own solutions.

“Brilliant idea!” Qi Hongyue exclaimed, her smile now genuine as she looked at Ying Yuan. “It seems you’ve done a significant amount of research beyond the classroom curriculum.”

“I’ve been waiting for an opportunity like this,” Ying Yuan said, showing no false modesty. Her communication with Qi Hongyue was concise and efficient, free from hidden meanings or superfluous emotions, which made her feel remarkably at ease, even a little excited.

On the first morning after the May Day holiday, most students were reluctant to get out of bed.

But Ying Yuan had already followed Qi Hongyue to an activity room in the school’s old building. Though the room was old, it had been meticulously cleaned and tidied.

The room contained a few school desks and chairs, a blackboard covered in writing, and the most valuable item—a desktop computer in the corner, paired with a rare ergonomic chair.

Qi Hongyue turned on the computer and instructed Ying Yuan to put into practice the solution she had proposed on the way. Their interview had ended, and work had begun.

They worked straight through until nearly eight o’clock. The moment Ying Yuan glanced up, Qi Hongyue asked precisely, “You have a class?”

“Yes,” Ying Yuan replied.

“Go ahead,” Qi Hongyue said. “Drop by whenever you’re free. Other members will be here when I’m not.”

“Okay,” Ying Yuan said, getting up. “The data I need…”

“I’ve already emailed it to you,” Qi Hongyue replied.

“Great!” Ying Yuan exclaimed happily, smiling at Qi Hongyue. “It was lovely meeting you.”

“Likewise,” Qi Hongyue replied, producing a large, round orange from seemingly nowhere and tossing it into Ying Yuan’s arms. “Vitamin boost.”

Clutching the orange, Ying Yuan headed to class, her spirits high.

When she arrived, the classroom was already half-full. Mao Mao and Xiaohan spotted her and waved frantically.

Ying Yuan paused to scan the room, confirming Yi Shanshan’s absence before approaching her roommates.

Mao Mao grabbed Ying Yuan, pulling her down to sit between herself and Xiaohan. “Where have you been?” she whispered. “You didn’t even reply to my messages.”

“Huh? Did you send something?” Ying Yuan asked. “I was memorizing my textbook and didn’t see it.”

“Good heavens, Ying-jie! Is studying all you think about? We share a dorm with the school’s beauty queen, you know!” Mao Mao exclaimed.

“Did something happen?” Ying Yuan asked.

“We woke up together this morning,” Xiaohan chimed in. “Shanshan was sleeping like a grumpy lion cub, and the moment she opened her eyes, she started calling your name.”

Ying Yuan fell silent.

“She was so adorable!” Mao Mao gushed. “I wanted to rua her cheeks so badly!”

“When she realized you weren’t there, she seemed a bit sulky,” Xiaohan added. “Or maybe it was just morning grumpiness.”

“…… Hmm.”

Mao Mao: “Someone actually brought us breakfast! It was delivered right to our dorm door before we even finished tidying up—four identical sets.”

Xiaohan pulled a bag from her desk drawer and stuffed it into Ying Yuan’s. “I know you’ve probably already eaten, but it’s best to at least pass on their kindness.”

Ying Yuan glanced down and asked, “Who delivered it?”

Xiaohan: “I don’t recognize them. Probably another student from our school. They exchanged a few words with Shanshan and left.”

Mao Mao: “And they were so good-looking too! Aiya, are all of Shanshan’s friends this gorgeous? I’m dragging down the average attractiveness of her friend group…”

Ying Yuan: “You’re the cutest.”

Mao Mao: “Hehehe, Shanshan says the same thing!”

Ying Yuan let out a long sigh. Returning to normal life after Qi Hongyue felt like being surrounded by endless “Shanshan, Shanshan, Shanshan”s—an inescapable curse.

Xiaohan: “Oh, by the way, Shanshan was wondering about your pajamas. Since you didn’t reply to Mao Mao’s message, she took them to wash and said she’d return them later.”

Ying Yuan: “No need to return them. That set’s brand new.”

“Shouldn’t new ones be returned even more?” Mao Mao asked.

“No need,” Ying Yuan replied. “Just text her and tell her. She’ll understand.”

Since Yi Shanshan had used her roommates to surround her, Ying Yuan could use her own roommates to avoid the hassle of communicating directly with Yi Shanshan.

The pajamas were indeed new; she had bought an identical set to the one she’d taken, intending to return it to Yi Shanshan all along.

Mao Mao, thinking nothing of it, nodded repeatedly with “Oh, oh”s and immediately texted Yi Shanshan.

Yi Shanshan received the message just as she sat down in class. She stared at her phone for a long time, her brow gradually furrowing.

Lin Feng placed a cup of hot water on Yi Shanshan’s desk. Noticing her expression, he asked, “Shanshan, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Yi Shanshan said, putting her phone away with a cold expression. “My pet dog suddenly stopped obeying.”

“Then throw it away and get a new, obedient one,” Lin Feng suggested, sitting down beside her. The diamond-studded watch on his wrist flashed brilliantly in the light. “I’ve only been gone a few days, and someone’s already upset our My Lady.”

“Hmph,” Yi Shanshan scoffed coldly.

Lin Feng: “How’d you end up sleeping in someone else’s dorm last night? And you had me bring all this breakfast without even asking if I’d eaten.”

“You think I’d let you starve?” Yi Shanshan twirled a pen between her fingers. “I was having too much fun and just crashed there.”

“As long as you’re happy,” Lin Feng drawled, leaning back. “Aiya, you heartbreaker. You only care about the new flame, ignoring the old one’s tears. I’m already yesterday’s news, washed up on the shore.”

Yi Shanshan: “You’re so cringe.”

Lin Feng burst into giggles, thoroughly enjoying Yi Shanshan’s insult. After a pause, she changed the subject, gossiping about their social circle: “Remember the Jiang family’s younger son? The pale, baby-faced one? He must’ve been hitting the growth hormones or something, because now he’s suddenly trying to overthrow his older brother. Seriously? The elder brother’s been running the family empire for years…”

At 8:05 AM, the early risers of A University trudged into their first class after the short break.

Across campus, in various lecture halls, courses and students varied, but one sight was universal: classrooms filled with students dozing off in droves.

Ying Yuan and Yi Shanshan were rare exceptions, their minds remarkably clear. One furiously scribbled notes, her mind consumed by algorithms and formulas, while the other harbored a heart brimming with secrets, each more troubling than the last.

Though they occupied the same space and time, they lived in entirely different worlds.

After two grueling morning classes, Mao Mao received a reply from Yi Shanshan:

Okay~ Please thank Ying Yuan for me. She’s so thoughtful!~

Mao Mao immediately showed her phone to Ying Yuan. “Shanshan replied! She said you’re so thoughtful. Hehe, I think Shanshan really likes you, even though you barely talk when we hang out.”

“I’ve always been quiet,” Ying Yuan said.

Mao Mao: “Hey, another message! Shanshan’s asking what I’m having for lunch, for ideas. Hehehe, I think Shanshan likes me too! Our conversations are so lively!”

Ying Yuan, who had no intention of eating with her roommates, abruptly changed course. “I have something I need to take care of. I’ll head over there now.”

Mao Mao was too busy replying to messages on her phone to ask Ying Yuan where she was going.

Ying Yuan had already hurried away, leaving only a fleeting glimpse of her retreating figure.

She headed straight to the Activity Room—a perfect sanctuary.

The old building was eerily quiet at this hour, devoid of extra people. Lush greenery in the courtyard cast deep, verdant shadows.

Qi Hongyue sat at her desk, her fingers flying across her laptop keyboard. When Ying Yuan entered, she merely tilted her chin, gesturing for her to make herself at home.

Ying Yuan settled in front of the computer and resumed her morning’s work.

Her mind buzzed with ideas, but her stomach betrayed her with a loud growl.

Qi Hongyue stood up. “What do you want to eat?”

“Huh?” Ying Yuan blinked, momentarily caught off guard.

“Lunch,” Qi Hongyue clarified. “I’ll go get it and bring it back.”

“Stir-fried noodles,” Ying Yuan replied instantly.

Qi Hongyue nodded and left the room.

In the quiet room, Ying Yuan felt her breath ease. She was truly grateful for having clicked on the forum that morning.

She had finally found herself the perfect sanctuary.

Ying Yuan remained in the Activity Room throughout the afternoon.

That afternoon, after her single class, Ying Yuan immediately went to the Activity Room.

By evening, the Activity Room had filled up. Two artists and a screenwriter had arrived.

Qi Hongyue led a brief meeting to coordinate progress and deadlines among the team members. Ying Yuan officially joined the project’s group chat and was warmly welcomed.

Over the next two days, Ying Yuan became completely immersed in the game project.

Aside from her academic studies, her mind was entirely consumed with refining the game.

Qi Hongyue willingly provided her with all the necessities. Almost every meal Ying Yuan ate was purchased by Qi Hongyue. After noticing she wasn’t returning to her dorm for lunch, Qi Hongyue even brought in a cot so she could rest briefly after eating.

By the fourth day, Mao Mao and Xiaohan couldn’t stand it any longer. During a break between classes, they grabbed Ying Yuan’s arm, peppering her with frantic questions: “What on earth are you doing?! You’re not coming home, you’re ignoring us, and when you do talk, you sound like a robot! You haven’t been brainwashed by some pyramid scheme, have you?!”

“I’m perfectly clear-headed,” Ying Yuan replied, carefully avoiding specifics. “I’m just… busy with something.”

Mao Mao: “Does this ‘something’ require you to pay money?”

Ying Yuan shook her head. “No.”

In fact, Qi Hongyue had even covered some of her meal and fruit expenses.

Xiaohan: “Oh no, that’s definitely life-threatening!”

Ying Yuan: “……”

Mao Mao: “Aaaah! If you don’t tell us, we won’t let you go!”

They clung to Ying Yuan’s arms from both sides, hugging her during class and refusing to let go even after it ended.

Ying Yuan sighed. “I’m not going anywhere yet. There’s still one more class.”

Mao Mao and Xiaohan refused to let go, flanking Ying Yuan as they moved toward the next classroom.

Down one flight of stairs, up another, they reached the classroom and settled into their usual corner at the back.

Ying Yuan: “Can you two let go now? I really like this elective and need to take notes.”

Mao Mao and Xiaohan shook their heads fiercely.

Ying Yuan sensed something was off.

Lately, her mind had been consumed by gaming, almost making her forget about Yi Shanshan.

While her recent behavior had been odd enough, Mao Mao and Xiaohan’s actions were even more peculiar. Alarm bells blared in Ying Yuan’s head. She glanced around the classroom. Students were filing in through the front and back doors like minesweepers, and she dreaded seeing Yi Shanshan’s face next.

“What are you looking at?” A familiar voice spoke from right beside her.

Ying Yuan jolted to her feet, causing Mao Mao and Xiaohan to flinch.

In the row ahead, a girl in a baseball cap turned around. Her fox-like eyes slanted upward, and a faint smile played at the corners of her lips.

Ying Yuan: “Actually, it’s okay to skip electives, you know.”