My Straight Girlfriend with Skin Hunger Syndrome - Chapter 37

Chapter 37

At precisely 7:30 AM, Ying Yuan arrived at classroom 205, only to find Qi Hongyue and the new interviewee already there.

Ying Yuan strode into the classroom with buoyant optimism, but her joy withered like a flower the moment she saw Qi Hongyue and Yi Shanshan locked in a tense face-off.

She froze at the doorway, her emotions a tangled knot, unsure whether to enter.

Yi Shanshan was dressed demurely today, her long, silky hair falling smoothly over her shoulders. A honey-brown blazer paired with a knee-length plaid skirt framed her pale complexion and wide, innocent eyes. When she turned to greet Ying Yuan, a gentle smile graced her lips, radiating an air of guileless charm.

Qi Hongyue, unfazed by Ying Yuan’s unease, immediately introduced her to Yi Shanshan: “This is Ying Yuan, the other member of our team participating in the interview. She’s in charge of programming.”

Yi Shanshan raised a hand, her fingers twitching slightly. “Hello, Ying Yuan.”

Forced to resume her administrative duties, Ying Yuan lowered her gaze and stepped into the classroom, her inner turmoil churning like a stormy sea.

Truth be told, ever since being cornered into confronting Yi Shanshan last Friday, Ying Yuan had known it was only a matter of time before her cover was blown.

With even a modicum of effort, uncovering the project’s details wouldn’t be difficult. Failing that, simply tailing her after class once would reveal everything.

Ying Yuan’s strategy was simple: no matter when Yi Shanshan approached her, if she kept herself sufficiently busy, she wouldn’t have any spare time to spend with Yi Shanshan, and thoughts of her wouldn’t be able to invade her mind, seizing her thoughts and emotions.

What she hadn’t anticipated was Yi Shanshan’s desire to join the project team.

Yi Shanshan was an outgoing, captivating person who thrived in crowds, always shining brightly at large, lively events.

In contrast, Ying Yuan’s game project team could toil away for a year or more without producing any tangible results. The final product would merely credit their names in the game’s closing credits.

This was diametrically opposed to Yi Shanshan’s interests—an utter mismatch.

For Yi Shanshan, teasing Ying Yuan or getting to know her roommates during her leisure time might be considered a form of relaxation and entertainment. But joining a time-consuming, laborious project team? That would be a monumental waste of effort, yielding minimal returns—a truly bad bargain.

Ying Yuan couldn’t fathom it. She thought Yi Shanshan must have gone mad.

As she sat down next to Qi Hongyue, Ying Yuan’s face remained creased with confusion.

Qi Hongyue pushed the resume across the desk toward her. “This is Yi Shanshan’s resume. Take a look and think about what questions you want to ask her.”

Snapping out of her tangled thoughts, Ying Yuan turned her attention to Qi Hongyue.

Qi Hongyue’s expression remained neutral, the same calm and efficient demeanor Ying Yuan had observed these past few days as she handled her work with composure and precision.

Ying Yuan’s heart suddenly calmed.

A clear voice in her mind reminded her: This is work time. Just focus on the task at hand.

Ying Yuan took a deep breath and began to carefully review the resume before her.

It was a highly standardized document, beautifully formatted and clearly organized.

The candidate boasted a wide range of skills and expertise, extensive practical experience, and a densely packed awards section that barely fit all the accolades.

She was exceptionally qualified, and the photo showed a face that bordered on perfection.

Ying Yuan could easily imagine the enthusiastic welcome Yi Shanshan would receive as she presented this resume to various school clubs and organizations.

“I’ve finished reviewing it,” Ying Yuan said.

She glanced up at Yi Shanshan, who sat across from her, relaxed and smiling warmly.

Qi Hongyue: “Then let’s start the questioning.”

Ying Yuan was taken aback. She had assumed she would only ask supplementary questions after Qi Hongyue finished the main interview. She never expected Qi Hongyue to let her lead the charge.

The leader’s trust immediately filled Ying Yuan’s chest with a sense of responsibility. She straightened her back and, adopting a completely professional demeanor, said, “Ms. Yi Shanshan, your resume is very impressive. Could you elaborate on what specifically about our project interests you most?”

She asked this question because Yi Shanshan’s skills didn’t quite align with the early-stage development of the game. Though Ying Yuan knew Yi Shanshan had ulterior motives, she still needed her to provide a legitimate and transparent reason for wanting to join the team.

Yi Shanshan’s immediate response was: “I’m interested in the people, of course~”

Ying Yuan: “……”

Ying Yuan gripped the paper in her hand tightly, feeling Qi Hongyue’s gaze lingering on her.

“Could you be more specific?” Ying Yuan asked, striving to clear her mind of distractions and meeting Yi Shanshan’s gaze directly. “Are you interested in the concept of our all-female team, or do you trust our founder’s vision?”

“Hmm…” Yi Shanshan wrinkled her nose, feigning thought. “I’m pretty interested in both.”

She leaned forward slightly. “I’ve heard your team has such a great atmosphere—the members are so close-knit, trusting each other completely and working together so diligently. I find it so rare, so I wanted to experience it for myself.”

Who told you that?

Ying Yuan told me that.

Ying Yuan gritted her teeth. “Our atmosphere is excellent, but that’s because we all share a single goal in this project: to make the game as good as possible. If you’re just looking to ‘experience’ it, it might not be the right fit.”

Yi Shanshan: “But that’s exactly the kind of ‘single goal’ experience I want! My goal is, of course, to make the game amazing too.”

Yeah, right.

Ying Yuan: “Then tell me, what specific areas of the project do you think you can handle?”

Yi Shanshan: “Music.”

As she said those two words, a confident expression lit up Yi Shanshan’s face. Her absolute certainty made her eyes sparkle, creating a mesmerizing effect.

“I can handle everything music-related. That includes the background music for each stage of the game, the sound effects for clicks and item pickups, and even the theme song for promotional campaigns—I can do it all.”

Ying Yuan: “……”

This was undeniably enticing. Yi Shanshan’s professional capabilities were beyond question, and her extensive musical repertoire would undoubtedly enhance the game.

Ying Yuan glanced at Qi Hongyue, but Qi Hongyue showed no sign of excitement. She remained remarkably composed, so much so that Ying Yuan felt Qi Hongyue hadn’t been this detached even during Ying Yuan’s interview.

Ying Yuan’s mind raced, piecing together clues. Seeing that Qi Hongyue showed no intention of speaking, she boldly voiced her thoughts:

“We currently have no need for custom music. Our extensive asset library already meets our daily requirements. Commissioning bespoke tracks is time-consuming, resource-intensive, and extremely expensive, yet the potential returns aren’t significant enough to justify the investment.”

Yi Shanshan countered, “Doesn’t my presence here imply lower costs? Aren’t campus projects meant to cut expenses? You can find affordable artists, writers, and programmers—I can also find affordable lyricists, composers, singers, and recording engineers.”

Yi Shanshan looked at Ying Yuan, a faint smile playing on her lips. “Players don’t typically choose games for their music first, but good music is always a benefit, never a drawback. Why refuse something of such value?”

Yi Shanshan’s gaze slid to Qi Hongyue. “Original music also guarantees copyright peace of mind. You’re planning to market it eventually, right?”

Qi Hongyue finally spoke, her voice measured. “We’re currently focused on the competition. We haven’t considered sales yet.”

Her single sentence, devoid of further explanation, left Yi Shanshan choking on her retort. “Not considering sales but accepting investment? So it’s all out and no return?”

Faced with such blatant provocation, Qi Hongyue simply stared at Yi Shanshan without responding.

The classroom fell into an abrupt silence. Ying Yuan hadn’t expected a few words to escalate so quickly. She’d seen Yi Shanshan’s temper flare before, but she’d always believed it was just playful mischief, not genuine malice.

Unable to resist mediating, Ying Yuan chimed in, “The school’s innovation project is meant to develop our thinking and provide practical experience, not to make money.”

Yi Shanshan, however, seemed to have completely misread the situation. Ignoring Ying Yuan’s conciliatory tone, she shot her eyebrows up and opened her mouth, her expression warning Ying Yuan that nothing pleasant was about to come out of it.

Beside her sat Qi Hongyue, as cold and rigid as ice, while across from her Yi Shanshan was practically spitting fire. Ying Yuan barely had time to think before she instinctively stood up and clamped her hand over Yi Shanshan’s mouth.

Yi Shanshan: “????”

Qi Hongyue: “????”

The words Yi Shanshan had been about to utter were swallowed back. Ying Yuan’s warm palm pressed against her skin, carrying her unique, refreshing fragrance.

If Yi Shanshan’s lips moved again, it would be tantamount to kissing someone’s palm—utterly inappropriate given the tense atmosphere.

Yi Shanshan froze, her wide, innocent eyes staring up at Ying Yuan.

The moment Ying Yuan realized what she had done, her cheeks flushed crimson.

But compared to letting Qi Hongyue and Yi Shanshan’s argument escalate to an irreparable point, this seemed a small price to pay.

And since she’d already gone this far, she might as well commit.

Without removing her hand from Yi Shanshan’s mouth, she thoughtfully adjusted her grip, arching her palm slightly to avoid pressing her palm directly against Yi Shanshan’s lips.

Yi Shanshan came to the interview today, wearing makeup. Her lips gleamed with a reflective, mirror-like lip gloss.

“No, I said…” Faced with their silent questioning, Ying Yuan could only stammer vaguely.

Indeed, no one would speak. The classroom fell into an even more absurd silence than before.

Heat still radiated from Ying Yuan’s body. She tried to summarize the interview results. “Yi Shanshan’s professional skills are excellent, but our game hasn’t reached the stage where we need to consider music yet. If a suitable opportunity arises in the future, we can certainly collaborate.”

Ying Yuan looked at Yi Shanshan. The back of her hand, pressed against Yi Shanshan’s cheek, revealed a deeper tan than usual. Yi Shanshan’s skin, like a pristine white dough ball, stirred an irresistible urge to knead and pinch.

“The interview concludes here,” Ying Yuan said. “Yi Shanshan, you may leave now.”

Author’s Note:

My darlings, starting tomorrow, the daily update time will be adjusted to 8 PM. I’m trying to write more each time, so thank you for your patience!