My Straight Girlfriend with Skin Hunger Syndrome - Chapter 45
Chapter 45
Ying Yuan had always believed that romantic scenes in idol dramas were fundamentally a waste—a waste of manpower, a waste of time, utterly pointless, utterly worthless. She never imagined she’d find herself participating in such a spectacle, having no inclination toward romance whatsoever.
But now, she was inextricably bound to Yi Shanshan. When Shanshan asked her to hold up the garment, she complied. When Shanshan pulled her forward to run, she ran without hesitation.
The rain wasn’t heavy, but the wind was strong.
The wind whipped the raindrops, battering them from all directions. They were soaked through in moments, evenly and thoroughly drenched, as if they’d plunged into a misty river.
The garment overhead served primarily as a dramatic flourish. The wind billowed it backward, leftward, and rightward, transforming it into a banner that crackled audibly beside their ears.
The night’s neon lights, washed through by the rain, cascaded into the ground.
The water’s reflective surface conjured a kaleidoscopic, otherworldly realm. They dashed across this shimmering expanse, each footfall splashing up droplets that sent the surreal world scattering into the air.
Yi Shanshan laughed as she ran, her joy leaping and crashing like her footsteps, tethering Ying Yuan tightly, as if every surge of emotion demanded to be shared.
Ying Yuan’s heart pounded. The act of running alone would have quickened her pulse.
And what’s more, they were soaked to the bone by the rain. And what’s more, she could hear Yi Shanshan’s laughter, and what’s more, Yi Shanshan was pressed so close against her that almost all of her weight was leaning against Ying Yuan…
Their distance vanished completely; their breathing and heartbeats synced into a single rhythm.
They dashed through the streets, past tiny yellow flowers washed to the ground by the rain, past streams of cars braking at red lights. They sped past the stares of middle-aged men under umbrellas, racing forward, their joy propelling them.
The distance wasn’t far to begin with, and it seemed even shorter when they were running.
When they reached the school gate, Yi Shanshan stopped, leaning against Ying Yuan and panting, “Romance… is… quite… exhausting… huh…”
Ying Yuan’s heart pounded fiercely in her chest. She lowered her gaze to Yi Shanshan, who was leaning against her. Strands of Yi Shanshan’s rain-soaked hair clung damply to her cheeks.
Water droplets clung to her eyelashes, her eyes shimmering with moisture. Her panting lips were flushed a deeper red, making her look like a fuzzy peach that had been tossed into a puddle.
Ying Yuan began to dismantle all her previous theories about romance.
How could this be a waste? How could it be meaningless?
This moment would be the most vivid brushstroke in her memories. Ying Yuan could almost see herself, an old woman rocking in her chair, her eyes closed as images of her youth flickered in her mind.
Just this image.
This rainy day, this racing heart, this Yi Shanshan.
“It’s not a bother,” Ying Yuan stammered, still dazed. “It’s… fun.”
Yi Shanshan looked up at her, still breathless, her words coming out in gasps. But a smile spread across her face, blossoming into a radiant sun.
Ying Yuan smiled back, but the alarm on her phone chose this inopportune moment to blare, reminding them of the approaching curfew.
“Ying… Yuan!” Yi Shanshan suddenly bristled, forcing the words out despite her breathlessness. “How… how many… alarms… did you set…?”
Ying Yuan: “……”
She didn’t dare answer.
Yi Shanshan: “Afraid I’d… keep you… up past bedtime…?”
Ying Yuan averted her gaze, murmuring, “Sleep is… important.”
Yi Shanshan released her arm, straightened her posture, and took a deep breath, calming her breathing.
“I won’t hog your bed anymore,” she declared, her tone frank and honest. “Unless you invite me.”
Ying Yuan: “……”
Yi Shanshan sniffled. “Alright, I’m heading back.”
Ying Yuan immediately stepped out from under the cardigan’s shelter. “Here, wear this. It’ll help.”
Without Ying Yuan’s support, the cardigan slipped down over Yi Shanshan’s head like a large headscarf. Yi Shanshan lowered her hands and grinned. “How ugly.”
“It’s not ugly. You look beautiful,” Ying Yuan said sincerely.
Rain immediately soaked Yi Shanshan’s hair, forming glistening droplets on her strands.
Ying Yuan tucked a stray strand behind her ear and hoisted her backpack onto her head. “Good night, Shanshan.”
Yi Shanshan stared after her, dazed. “Good night…”
“Go take a hot shower when you get home,” Ying Yuan called over her shoulder. “Don’t catch a cold.”
With that final piece of advice, Ying Yuan turned and sprinted off in the opposite direction.
The alarm clock was urging her on, and so was the rain. Ying Yuan ran swiftly, not once looking back.
By the time she returned to her dorm, she barely had enough time for another shower.
After a chaotic rush through her routine, Ying Yuan realized she should have texted Yi Shanshan to check if she’d made it back safely.
She reached for her phone and saw a flurry of new messages from Yi Shanshan sent just minutes ago:
I’m home! My clothes are soaked through. I’ll wash them and return them to you later.
You must have gotten back even faster than me! Running like the wind!
[Rabbit angry.gif]
But thank you so much for helping me record today~ Thank you, thank you~~
I’m going to make you work extra hard afterward too! Make sure the audio is perfect so Qi Hongyue can’t reject it!
[Rabbit clenching fist.gif]
To think she’d been proactively informed and even given such a neatly arranged plan!
Clutching her phone, Ying Yuan couldn’t suppress a smile. She long-pressed each message, quoted them one by one, and replied to Yi Shanshan:
Mm, don’t worry about the clothes. I have some.
I’m a bit farther away, so I won’t be there right away.
No need to thank me, it wasn’t any trouble at all.
I’ll do my best.
I’ll do my best. Now that she’d sent those words, and promised them more than once, Ying Yuan was determined to make it happen.
Her laptop still had more than half its battery left. She sat down at her desk, put on her headphones, and immediately began organizing the audio files.
Everything she’d experienced in the recording studio flooded back.
Yi Shanshan’s presence, so close she could feel her breath against her ear, materialized vividly in her mind. The colors of her memories seemed more vivid, and the intonation of her lines felt even more tender.
Ying Yuan’s face flushed as she replayed the audio clips repeatedly, her fingers flying across the keyboard until she had meticulously categorized everything from that evening. Only then did she shut down her computer and go to bed.
Lying in bed with her eyes closed, the sounds still echoed in her mind.
She drifted off into a fitful sleep, her dreams haunted by Yi Shanshan all night long.
The next day, she dragged herself through class, dark circles under her eyes.
When she arrived at the Activity Room as usual, Qi Hongyue stared at her for a long time.
“I’m fine,” Ying Yuan waved her hand dismissively, feeling guilty.
The audio files weren’t fully compiled yet; she couldn’t show Qi Hongyue now to prove that her work with Yi Shanshan was entirely legitimate.
“I didn’t say anything,” Qi Hongyue replied, her expression slightly helpless.
“Oh.” Ying Yuan sat down at the computer.
She didn’t work too late that day, wanting to reserve time for editing Yi Shanshan’s audio clips.
As she left, Qi Hongyue gave her another long, lingering look.
That night, her dreams were once again filled with Yi Shanshan’s bizarre and fantastical imagery.
On Thursday afternoon, after class, Ying Yuan went straight back to her dorm.
Ying Yuan wanted to finish Yi Shanshan’s portion of the work in one go, but she ran into some subjective judgment calls along the way.
She picked up her phone and texted Yi Shanshan to ask for clarification.
After a long wait, Yi Shanshan replied with a voice message.
“I think the second version works better. It fits the character’s persona more closely. Persona is more important than vocal timbre.”
Ying Yuan played the message and froze.
She grabbed her headphones, turned up the volume, and replayed it.
Yi Shanshan’s voice today sounded hoarse.
Her vocal cords were clearly strained, her speech thick with nasal congestion, as if she were breathing through her mouth.
In the past, Ying Yuan might not have been so certain. But after listening to Yi Shanshan’s various voice recordings repeatedly over the past few days, she had developed an almost Pavlovian reaction.
She was absolutely certain: Yi Shanshan was sick.
The moment this realization hit Ying Yuan’s brain, her spirits plummeted.
It was probably just a cold. If so, it was undoubtedly connected to that night they’d been caught in the rain.
Ying Yuan’s guilt and worry surged. Instead of replying to Yi Shanshan’s message, she immediately called her.
The call was answered, and Yi Shanshan’s voice sounded even hoarser over the phone.
“Hey, Ying Yuan,” she said, still trying to sound cheerful. “Still confused? Want me to give you a live demonstration?”
“A cold?” Ying Yuan cut straight to the point. “Wind-cold or viral? Did you go to the infirmary? Did you take any medicine?”
“Ah,” Yi Shanshan paused.
“What are your symptoms?” Ying Yuan pressed. “Headache, cough, runny nose? Do you have a fever? Did you check your temperature?”
“Ying Yuan, did you major in clinical medicine or something?” Yi Shanshan’s voice dropped, sniffling and clearing her throat repeatedly but dodging every serious question. “Or are you practicing long-distance diagnostics now? Just hearing my voice can cure me, huh?”
Ying Yuan fell silent.
Yi Shanshan was joking, but Ying Yuan recognized the truth behind the jest:
These messages and phone calls were useless to Yi Shanshan in her sickness.
If she truly cared, she should go to Yi Shanshan’s side, take care of her, and meet her specific needs.
“Where are you now?” Ying Yuan asked. “In your dorm?”
Yi Shanshan laughed again, her voice teasing. “What do you want, Ying Yuan? Coming to find me? You never used to seek me out on your own… Taking advantage of me while I’m sick, huh?”
Ying Yuan figured Yi Shanshan was delirious with fever, spouting nonsense.
If this call continued, Yi Shanshan would keep rambling about irrelevant things in circles.
Useless conversation.
“Mm-hmm,” Ying Yuan replied casually. “Just send me a list of anything you need.”
The call ended. Ying Yuan shut down her laptop, got up, changed clothes, and packed her things.
The dorm’s first-aid kit had been recently restocked. She gathered everything that might be useful and put it in her bag.
A small electric kettle, convenient for boiling water and making tea, went into the bag after a moment’s thought.
The rest she’d have to buy downstairs.
Ying Yuan slung her bag over her shoulder and headed out.
As expected, Yi Shanshan didn’t send her the list. Ying Yuan navigated the campus, relying on her own experience to gather the necessary supplies.
Yi Shanshan lived in Building 9 of South Campus, Ying Yuan knew.
The location wasn’t even unfamiliar to her. She had once waited for Yi Shanshan beneath the flower-covered corridor of that building, ready to give her the hug she craved after returning late at night.
Ying Yuan also knew which floor Yi Shanshan lived on.
Earlier, to conduct counter-surveillance on Yi Shanshan, Ying Yuan had searched for relevant information on the school’s intranet. Yi Shanshan’s music performance class, Class 1, was located on the third floor.
There were no restrictions on female students entering the women’s dormitory.
Ying Yuan’s hands were full of items, and a kind classmate even swiped her card for her.
Ying Yuan made her way smoothly to the third floor.
Only then did she text Yi Shanshan: Dorm number?
Yi Shanshan called back immediately. Her voice was still hoarse, but her words finally sounded normal.
“You’re really coming?”
“Yeah. I’m already in your building, third floor, by the stairwell.”
“Oh my god!” Yi Shanshan exclaimed in surprise.
Sensing her hesitation, Ying Yuan explained, “I’m just bringing you some things. I was worried you wouldn’t be able to get them yourself if you’re sick. I won’t keep you from resting.”
“But I’m…” Yi Shanshan paused, then finally admitted, “…not in the dorm…”
Ying Yuan frowned. “At the hospital?”
“N-not really.”
“The school clinic?”
“I don’t even know which way the clinic door opens.”
Ying Yuan fell silent.
“Aiya…” Yi Shanshan’s tone turned coy, her voice muffled as if she had rolled over and buried her face in the blanket. “I was just afraid if I told you, you wouldn’t come~”
“Tell me,” Ying Yuan said.
“I have a place at the South Campus Faculty Residences, B12, Unit 1603,” Yi Shanshan replied.
Ying Yuan paused.
Though shocked, she wasn’t entirely surprised. Given Yi Shanshan’s family’s wealth, buying a place near her child’s school seemed… normal… right?
“Okay, I’ll come over,” Ying Yuan said.
Yi Shanshan raised her voice: “Then you’re coming of your own free will~ Don’t blame me later~”
Ying Yuan couldn’t imagine what there would be to blame her for, but Yi Shanshan answered her own question a moment later.
“I’m sick, and I don’t need anything else,” Yi Shanshan declared, her tone a strange mix of boldness and timidity. “I… I just need that one thing.”
Ying Yuan froze.
Their recent peaceful interactions had led her to believe that those clandestine embraces in the past had become irretrievable memories.
Yi Shanshan hadn’t mentioned her needs again, so Ying Yuan had tacitly assumed she’d found another way to satisfy them—a way that, whatever it was, had nothing to do with her.
But now, Yi Shanshan was dropping hints once more.
Seeing Ying Yuan’s silence, she added, drawing out the last syllable, “You know…”
You know.
You know everything.
So if you come to me again, it will all be you, willingly.