My Straight Girlfriend with Skin Hunger Syndrome - Chapter 40
Chapter 40
Early Saturday morning, Ying Yuan happily headed to the Activity Room, rolled up her sleeves, and got straight to work.
Around ten o’clock, members of the Project Team gradually arrived. They usually held a larger meeting on weekends to summarize progress from each department.
Ying Yuan paused her work and engaged in basic social interactions.
The art team’s Big Sister, who had designed a set of chibi character badges, excitedly shared them with the group. Ying Yuan received one featuring Nemo, the techie of the main group. Nemo was depicted with oversized glasses, staring blankly at a computer screen, a question mark and messy swirls floating above her head.
Ying Yuan thought it looked a bit like Qi Hongyue, but everyone insisted it resembled her most.
She held the badge up next to her cheek, its subtle, bookish aura strikingly similar to her own, prompting hearty laughter from the others.
Amidst this cheerful atmosphere, Qi Hongyue entered the room.
Her expression remained largely impassive, but Ying Yuan sensed a deep-seated unease in her demeanor.
What could be wrong? Ying Yuan wondered.
Qi Hongyue didn’t fully enter the room, remaining near the doorway.
As everyone turned to look, Qi Hongyue announced, “We have a new member joining us today.”
“Wow—”
Excited cries erupted as all eyes converged on the doorway, brimming with curiosity.
Ying Yuan’s heart pounded with unease. An inexplicable premonition quickened her pulse, but reason urged her to dismiss it. Impossible, she told herself. The interview process is over. Yi Shanshan herself said she didn’t care. Knowing Qi Hongyue, she’d never waver on something this important.
Then, in the next instant, as if space-time had suddenly fractured, Yi Shanshan materialized in the Activity Room doorway after a flicker imperceptible to the naked eye.
The bright sunlight bathed her in a radiant halo.
The lush foliage reaching from the courtyard framed her ethereal presence.
The weathered green window frames and peeling paint-stained walls lent the scene the nostalgic charm of an art-house film.
Standing there, Yi Shanshan smiled and waved to everyone inside, like a little witch who had conjured the impossible into reality.
Ying Yuan stared at Qi Hongyue in shock, who was returning her gaze.
She finally understood the meaning of their conversation in the courtyard last night—Qi Hongyue had been evaluating, assessing the possibility that only one of them, either her or Yi Shanshan, could remain.
“Hello everyone~” Yi Shanshan strolled into the Activity Room, her curious eyes sweeping the room. “Is this the Project Team’s secret base? It’s amazing~”
“Yeah, it’s super quiet here, perfect for getting work done.”
“Are you Yi Shanshan? You’re so pretty… I’ve seen videos of your performances!”
“Boss, you managed to recruit the school beauty? Did you hire her as our spokesperson?”
A flurry of voices erupted as the group immediately surrounded Yi Shanshan, forming a circle around her.
Ying Yuan was long accustomed to this spectacle. Yi Shanshan entering a crowd was like stepping onto her personal stage, requiring no concern whatsoever.
Her real worries were about herself, the project, and Qi Hongyue’s intentions.
Lowering her gaze, Ying Yuan hurried to stand before Qi Hongyue.
“Why?” she asked softly.
For once, Qi Hongyue didn’t try to hide anything. “The Project Team did take investment. It was an additional requirement from the client.”
Ying Yuan’s mouth hung half-open, unable to close.
Before this, she had never heard terms like “investment” or “client.” She knew Qi Hongyue occasionally sought sponsorship, but she had always assumed those were small sums, insufficient to influence the project’s content or management.
Ying Yuan’s naive, idealistic mind reeled from the impact. “So… you have to listen to the client now?”
“Not exactly,” Qi Hongyue replied. “They usually don’t make demands. But now that we’ve brought in Yi Shanshan, we can secure the 2nd Tier funding next week.”
Ying Yuan: “……”
Qi Hongyue: “This funding has already been delayed by a month and a half.”
Ying Yuan: “……”
Qi Hongyue: “Once we get it, we can finally give you all bonuses.”
Ying Yuan: “……”
She fell silent, unable to formulate any counterarguments.
Though she had always championed ideals, Ying Yuan knew that when faced with practical realities, all her naive notions would have to give way.
She could work without pay, but not everyone would consistently dedicate themselves to unpaid labor. Countless necessities came with clear price tags, obtainable only with money.
As Ying Yuan pondered, Qi Hongyue watched her, almost seeing the question marks and tangled circles swirling in her mind.
“The three conditions you like haven’t changed,” Qi Hongyue said. “The job’s difficulty has simply increased.”
“Huh?” Ying Yuan asked blankly. “Difficulty?”
Qi Hongyue gestured toward Yi Shanshan with a tilt of her chin. “A new component has been added to the project: managing personal emotions in the workplace.”
Ying Yuan followed her gaze. Yi Shanshan had already effortlessly integrated into the group.
Her smile was radiant, her voice lively and enthusiastic like a clear-throated yellow warbler. She quickly engaged the Project Team members in discussions about peripheral production and future marketing strategies, handling everything with practiced ease and effortless skill.
Ying Yuan let out a soft breath. Apart from her initial shock and worry, she found herself surprisingly calm.
There was no panic born of bewilderment, nor did she feel that working with Yi Shanshan as a colleague would be particularly difficult.
Over the past week, Yi Shanshan had proven through her actions that she was fully capable of contributing to the project team.
Moreover, she was essentially joining the team with her own resources.
“Did she… tell you why?” Ying Yuan asked.
Qi Hongyue chuckled. “She said it was for extra credit.”
Ying Yuan stared in disbelief.
With Yi Shanshan’s extensive experience participating in major events, she hardly needs two extra credit points.
“Good luck. Tell me the real answer later,” Qi Hongyue said, that enigmatic smile still playing on her lips. She strode forward, raising her voice, “Alright, comrades! Let’s get this meeting started!”
Four tables were pushed together to form a large conference table.
The team members gathered around it. Yi Shanshan, the popular newcomer, was passed around from seat to seat as everyone offered her the best spot. In the end, she was still without a seat.
Before this moment, Yi Shanshan had never given Ying Yuan any special attention. Now, she finally lifted her gaze slightly and glanced in Ying Yuan’s direction.
She looked… timid and… pitiable?
Ying Yuan’s mind flooded with confusion. Could this be Yi Shanshan’s true self?
Wasn’t Yi Shanshan supposed to be the most skilled at navigating crowds?
Yet Yi Shanshan had indeed once confessed that crowds actually stressed her out. As the designated ‘heartthrob,’ every social interaction felt like an exam—an exam she had to ace with a perfect score.
Those exact words were from a voice message Yi Shanshan had sent on Wednesday night.
Ying Yuan’s memory sharpened, and she could even recall the tone and inflection of that voice message.
They had drifted to other topics midway through their conversation, but Yi Shanshan had circled back to the original point, concluding, “That’s why I still feel more relaxed and at ease with familiar people.”
That’s why I still feel more relaxed and at ease with familiar people.
Ying Yuan felt she had received Yi Shanshan’s signal.
A faint signal, transmitted through a fleeting glance amidst the bustling crowd, had burrowed into her mind.
Yi Shanshan sent out a signal but made no demands.
She left the choice entirely in Ying Yuan’s hands, then, looking slightly troubled, prepared to take the conspicuous front seat everyone had suggested.
Ying Yuan’s heart fluttered. Finally, she spoke up: “Um… would you like to come over here?”
It shouldn’t be a problem to say this, she thought. If Mao Mao, Xiaohan, or Lina had sent me the same signal, I would have helped them without hesitation. Why should I be so cruel to Yi Shanshan?
“Ah.” Yi Shanshan looked up, a flicker of joy crossing her face, quickly followed by a blush. “Really? Is that okay?”
Meeting her gaze, Ying Yuan nodded.
She thoughtfully explained to the others, “Shanshan and I know each other from before.”
“Ah, you two know each other!”
“How did you meet? You’re not in the same faculty, right? I thought Ying Yuan was in engineering.”
“Did Shanshan hear about our Project Team from Ying Yuan? Is that why she wants to join?”
“You two were so quiet, I thought you didn’t know each other well.”
Everyone started chattering, firing questions at once. Yi Shanshan’s skirt swirled as she practically skipped over to Ying Yuan, her steps light and airy.
Ying Yuan pulled out a chair for her. Yi Shanshan sat down, tilted her head back, and flashed Ying Yuan an irresistibly cute, cat-like smile.
“Thank you~” she said to Ying Yuan.
Hearing the barrage of questions, she cautiously asked Ying Yuan, “Is it okay if I explain?”
Ying Yuan didn’t know what she would say, but she inexplicably trusted this Yi Shanshan. She felt confident she wouldn’t say anything strange. So she nodded again.
“Ah…” Yi Shanshan let out a long sigh. She turned to face everyone at the table, smiling. “Ying Yuan and I are from the same hometown. We went to the same middle school, but we never spoke back then. By coincidence, we ended up at the same university too! We became friends recently when she found my USB drive during an event. After hearing so much about your project team, I was so eager to join! That’s why I’m here!”
Qi Hongyue watched Yi Shanshan, her expression unreadable.
Yi Shanshan turned to Qi Hongyue with a sweet smile. “And thank you, Team Leader Qi, for accepting a newcomer like me~”
Qi Hongyue remained silent.
Yi Shanshan didn’t wait for a response. As soon as she finished speaking, she turned to Ying Yuan, her big eyes gleaming expectantly, awaiting confirmation.
Ying Yuan was thrilled to hear her say this. In front of everyone, Yi Shanshan had cast aside their murky past, leaving only the clearest, brightest thread—their friendship—to shine through. She had declared their bond for all to see.
I didn’t misplace my trust, Ying Yuan thought.
“Yes, that’s right,” Ying Yuan replied, smiling back.
Yi Shanshan’s smile instantly widened, her pupils gleaming like tiny light bulbs, radiating pure joy.
Qi Hongyue cleared her throat and announced coldly, “The meeting begins.”
The Activity Room settled into its familiar routine.
Project Team members reported on their weekly progress and discussed any challenges they had encountered.
Yi Shanshan sat beside Ying Yuan, a pristine new notebook and a slender pen twirling between her fingers. She listened intently, occasionally lowering her head to jot down notes.
Ying Yuan realized: This is what Yi Shanshan is truly like in class.
She wouldn’t hold Ying Yuan’s hand under the table, teasingly toying with her fingers like she had at the tech expo. Nor would she slouch back lazily in her chair during that elective course she’d taken for ulterior motives, her mind drifting as if she couldn’t absorb a single word.
Instead, she would listen intently, her eyes lighting up whenever something piqued her interest.
She would ponder deeply, her brow furrowing slightly, her lips unconsciously pursing.
During the discussion segment, she’d want to speak, but lacking sufficient information, she couldn’t articulate her thoughts to her satisfaction, so she swallowed her words in disappointment.
Ying Yuan observed it all.
Even without deliberate observation, these subtle gestures, sounds, and the very air around Yi Shanshan seemed to permeate her awareness.
With Yi Shanshan sitting beside her, her fragrance enveloped Ying Yuan, her voice whispered close, and her movements… even ordinary actions like raising her hand to write would, due to the close proximity, occasionally brush against Ying Yuan’s arm.
Ying Yuan felt a tickle—an itch that transformed into a secret pleasure, suppressed deep within her heart.
Her new research project was neither grueling nor tedious.
After the meeting adjourned, everyone dispersed to their tasks.
Ying Yuan settled in front of her computer, diving into the code.
After a long while, a vibrant splash of color drifted into the corner of her eye and settled there, motionless and silent.
Ying Yuan turned her head and saw Yi Shanshan standing beside her.
The moment their eyes met, Yi Shanshan’s face crumpled into a pleading expression, like a little puppy begging for attention.
Ying Yuan recognized this look well—the look that meant Yi Shanshan would leap into her arms in the next instant, filling her entire being with warmth and affection.
Ying Yuan swallowed hard, shoving that tender memory into the dark recesses of her mind. “What’s wrong?” she asked.
Yi Shanshan immediately took a step closer, closing the gap until their bodies nearly overlapped, yet somehow subtly avoiding contact.
Leaning in, Yi Shanshan whispered, her voice so low it seemed like a murmur meant for their ears alone.
“The Team Leader sent me the materials, but I don’t understand half of it…” Yi Shanshan’s anxiety and frustration poured into Ying Yuan’s heart, unfiltered. “This is so useless! I don’t want anyone else to know.”
Yi Shanshan stealthily extended her pinky finger and hooked it around a wrinkle in Ying Yuan’s sleeve, her voice soft and pleading. “Please, Ying Yuan~ Can you find a quiet place and explain it to me secretly?”