My Straight Girlfriend with Skin Hunger Syndrome - Chapter 5

Chapter 5

By the time Ying Yuan left the archives, it was quite late.

The library was playing its closing-time music, and she slowly followed the last trickle of patrons out.

The lobby was brightly lit, contrasting sharply with the pitch-black night outside.

Ying Yuan felt an intense, peculiar sensation—as if a massive void had been carved into her chest and abdomen. The cold spring night wind rushed through this hollow space, yet nothing could fill it.

Outside the library doors stretched a long flight of stairs. Ying Yuan stared down at them, descending one step at a time. At moments like this, dizziness threatened, as if her next step would land on air.

She paused on the mid-level platform, dazed.

Her phone vibrated, alerting her to a new message.

Ying Yuan pulled out her phone. The message was from the sparkling star icon: Hey, can’t even make it down a few steps?

Ying Yuan’s heart jolted, and the hollow feeling intensified.

She looked up. In the vast, open space, Yi Shanshan was standing in an inconspicuous shadow, yet Ying Yuan spotted her instantly.

She stood out so vividly in her line of sight, so glaringly conspicuous, like a luminous polyhedron with sharply defined edges.

Ying Yuan didn’t move. She lowered her gaze and replied: What do you want?

Yi Shanshan: Just come down first.

Ying Yuan: I’m going back to my dorm.

Yi Shanshan: 【It won’t take up much of your time.】

Ying Yuan: 【Fine, I’ll bite.】

A gust of wind swept through, causing Yi Shanshan’s messages to flood out in a flurry.

Yi Shanshan: 【What’s the point of saying it like that?】

Yi Shanshan: 【Haven’t you already seen me?】

Yi Shanshan: 【Ying Yuan, come here.】

Yi Shanshan: 【Going downhill is much easier than climbing stairs.】

Yi Shanshan: 【Ying Yuan, I don’t want to climb the stairs. My legs are really sore today.】

It was always like this. Every time she made a request, she would play the pitiful card.

But her pitiful act wasn’t entirely fake. She genuinely was tired, under immense pressure, and in a foul mood. She dared to lay bare her vulnerabilities and flaws before Ying Yuan, like an animal exposing its vulnerable underbelly.

Ying Yuan let out a long sigh. Without replying to Yi Shanshan’s messages, she stepped downward, one step at a time, her actions serving as her response.

Yi Shanshan must be wearing that sly little fox’s expression of triumph right now, Ying Yuan thought.

Soon, Ying Yuan reached Yi Shanshan, and they both sank into the shadows together.

Yi Shanshan had changed her outfit. She wore a soft, cream-colored sweater and a colorful patchwork skirt. Her freshly washed hair had been blow-dried to voluminous fluffiness, its natural waves framing her small, delicate face like a fuzzy halo.

She looked radiant, as if she’d gotten plenty of rest.

“What’s wrong?” Ying Yuan asked.

“What’s wrong, what’s wrong? You always ask that as soon as you see me,” Yi Shanshan pouted, her voice thick with resentment and grievance. “Can’t I just come to see you for no reason?”

“You’ve already come to see me three times today,” Ying Yuan pointed out.

Yi Shanshan fell silent.

“People eat three meals a day,” she retorted. “Why can’t I come to see you three times a day?”

Ying Yuan remained silent.

“Besides, I’m here to treat you,” Yi Shanshan continued. “Just wait—in three seconds, you’ll be begging me for forgiveness on your knees!”

Ying Yuan still didn’t respond.

Yi Shanshan turned abruptly and pulled a large bag out of a clump of bushes in the corner.

Clutching the bag in one arm, she began pulling out items one by one to show Ying Yuan:

“This is the most amazing sports drink I’ve ever had—a really niche brand. You absolutely have to try it.

“And this is the lucky bear I got with my medal. It was a popularity award, so it’s only natural I won. The bear is super cute, so I’m giving it to you. Every time you see it, you’ll remember your accusations and misunderstandings about me—and feel deep remorse!”

“You haven’t eaten yet, have you? You went straight from the stadium to shower, then came to find me. That classmate of yours interrupted, even asking if you’d eaten—but you clearly haven’t! Not a trace of food smell on you…

“And then you dashed off to the library again. Who’s even there, making you run over every day? You go even when you’re not eating! Aren’t you hungry?”

Ying Yuan blinked, startled. As Yi Shanshan uttered the word “hungry,” her stomach rumbled twice, and she suddenly realized that the gnawing, empty feeling she’d been experiencing was probably… hunger.

Yi Shanshan pulled a meticulously packed bento box from her bag. “Truffle-infused beef tongue quinoa rice and sweet shrimp marinated in rice wine. I didn’t know when you’d be done, so I got something that tastes good even cold.

“And hazelnut cake from the South Gate—you said it was delicious last time.”

As Ying Yuan heard the names, her hunger intensified.

Noticing her softening gaze, Yi Shanshan’s eyes crinkled with a smile. She tucked the bento box back into her bag, hugged the whole thing to her chest, and didn’t immediately hand it to Ying Yuan.

“I told you you’d regret it,” Yi Shanshan said, a smug expression on her face. “Where else would you find someone as considerate as me?”

“Thank you for your concern, but I don’t need anything…” Ying Yuan began.

“Shh,” Yi Shanshan interrupted, batting her eyelashes. “You’ll stop being cute if you say any more.”

Ying Yuan fell silent.

Yi Shanshan stuffed the bag into Ying Yuan’s arms. “Take it. It’s what my friends deserve.”

The bag felt heavy, filling the void within Ying Yuan.

“And there’s one more big prize,” Yi Shanshan said, her hands clasped behind her back, tilting her head with a teasing smile. “Guess what it is?”

Ying Yuan shook her head. She never could figure out Yi Shanshan’s whims.

“Checkmate!” Yi Shanshan pulled out a ticket, waved it in front of Ying Yuan’s face, and then tucked it into her coat pocket.

“You’re always going to those weird lectures, right? This new robotics expo has industry big shots giving talks. You’d love it.”

Ying Yuan opened her mouth to speak, but no words came out.

She had intended to politely decline Yi Shanshan’s gifts, but then Yi Shanshan had unexpectedly brought her dinner.

At least she should thank her for the dinner, but Yi Shanshan had already thrust the ticket at her with such eagerness.

These were all specially chosen for you, based on your preferences, like custom-made clothes. If you refuse, where will the time and money someone spent go?

“I…” Ying Yuan hesitated, managing only, “I’ll transfer you the ticket price.”

Yi Shanshan puffed out her cheeks and suddenly reached out to touch Ying Yuan’s face, a swift, feather-light caress, her warm palm leaving a delicate imprint.

“There, payment settled,” she said. “You know I’m not short on cash. Let’s call it a trade.”

Ying Yuan’s breath caught in her throat, her chest tightening painfully.

“Won’t keep you any longer. See ya~” Yi Shanshan waved goodbye.

This time, she left with a decisive turn, her cascading curls flinging out behind her, strands nearly brushing Ying Yuan’s face.

Just like that, she had appeared and vanished.

Clutching the large bag of gifts, Ying Yuan walked back alone. On that short walk, she suddenly noticed that the trees were green again, the flowers in bloom, and the streetlight bathed the lush pink and white crabapple blossoms in a dreamlike glow.

The night breeze was no longer chilly but warm and balmy, carrying the fragrance of spring, flushing her cheeks with heat.

Ying Yuan pondered again: How had she fallen into this predicament?

It’s complicated, she thought. I can’t really blame myself.

It had all started last September, backstage at the freshmen talent show just after the start of the semester.

Ying Yuan remained her usual self—the one who handled logistics for her classmates. With so few girls in her college and her aversion to being in the spotlight, backstage work was her comfort zone.

She kept everyone on schedule, fetched costumes and props, and even though there was only one performance to manage, she dashed back and forth through the backstage dressing room corridors countless times.

Yi Shanshan suddenly appeared during one of these ordinary errands—or rather, just an arm appeared, an arm adorned with a shimmering glove.

It grabbed Ying Yuan’s sleeve and tugged her over. “Hey, classmate.”

Ying Yuan found herself drawn into a pair of striking eyes, like pale blue lakes glittering with shards of sunlight.

Yi Shanshan gazed at her with a radiant, expectant look and said in a voice brimming with surprise, “Have we… met somewhere before?”

What a cliché of an opening line, Ying Yuan thought. I never imagined someone would actually try to pick me up like that.

“It’s so familiar… but I can’t quite place it,” Yi Shanshan said. “You… were you at Tongcheng No. 1 High School?”

Ying Yuan nodded.

“Ah! A classmate!” Yi Shanshan jumped up excitedly, gripping Ying Yuan’s arms with both hands. “I never imagined I’d run into a high school classmate at A University!”

Her infectious enthusiasm made Ying Yuan’s body tremble involuntarily.

“Ugh…” Yi Shanshan’s emotions were vivid and unrestrained. One moment she was beaming, the next her eyes drooped into a heart-wrenchingly sad expression. “I didn’t feel it so much back home, but seeing someone from my hometown now… it brings tears to my eyes.”

She spread her arms toward Ying Yuan, her voice filled with yearning and anticipation. “Old classmate, please give me a hug, in this lonely, cold night in a foreign land.”

Ying Yuan glanced around. They were in a dressing room, empty except for them, the lighting dim.

Yi Shanshan wore a stunning sky-blue princess dress, her hair curled into cascading Roman ringlets, adorned with a dainty feathered hat. Her makeup was exquisite, making her look like a porcelain doll.

Her radiant presence formed a stark contrast against the icy surroundings, making her seem more suited to lounging by a fireplace in her family’s ancient castle, leisurely reading a book, than enduring this solitary hardship.

So Ying Yuan nodded.

So Ying Yuan thoughtfully opened her arms to her.

Yi Shanshan’s smile returned. She flicked her wrist to slam the dressing room door shut, then gently pushed Ying Yuan against it, pressing her back against the door.

Now, no one could enter.

This had become their exclusive, secret space.

“Wait just a moment,” Yi Shanshan murmured.

She slowly began removing her long gloves, her left hand peeling off the right, one fingertip at a time, then her right hand peeling off the left, again, fingertip by fingertip…

The gloves, reaching to her elbows, were gradually stripped away, revealing her skin.

Honey-colored skin, smooth as silk… Ying Yuan suddenly realized Yi Shanshan was wearing a strapless dress, leaving her entire shoulders and neck bare. With each movement, the delicate contours of her collarbones were revealed.

Ying Yuan’s heart pounded in her chest, immediately followed by blaring alarm bells in her mind.

She wanted to stop Yi Shanshan immediately, to tell her, “You’re fine, but I’m not. I’m a lesbian, and this might feel like I’m taking advantage of you. If you found out later, you might regret it, or even feel disgusted.”

But she didn’t get the chance to speak, because Yi Shanshan had already leaned in.

This wasn’t the polite, fleeting hug of hometown friends meeting again; it was a solid, full-bodied embrace that pressed every inch of their bodies together, as if Yi Shanshan wanted to melt herself into Ying Yuan’s arms—an unbearably intimate, almost brazen embrace.

Yi Shanshan hugged her, her cheek resting against Ying Yuan’s profile, their arms pressed tightly together.

Warmth, fragrance, smoothness, delicacy… The dagger hidden in the scroll had been revealed.