My Straight Girlfriend with Skin Hunger Syndrome - Chapter 85

Chapter 85

Ying Yuan spoke with stark clarity, leaving no room for ambiguity or evasion. Without preamble or explanation, she simply stated a fact—a truth long buried.

The grip on her wrist loosened, Yi Shanshan’s fingertips sliding off her skin and dropping abruptly.

Ying Yuan blinked. In the flickering, dim light, Yi Shanshan’s face shifted repeatedly, her expression unreadable.

Without a word, Yi Shanshan turned and fled with the same swiftness as her arrival, as if escaping this absurd world.

The warmth receded, and everything related to Yi Shanshan vanished with her retreating figure.

Ying Yuan gasped for breath, but her chest felt as if all oxygen had been sucked out, leaving an empty, deathly stillness.

Zhang Xiao stared, bewildered. “What’s going on? In this day and age, are there still people who can’t accept others’ sexual orientations?”

She turned to Ying Yuan. “What’s her relationship with you? Relative? Friend? Someone you’re seeing?”

“A friend,” Ying Yuan murmured, the word falling like a period.

“If she’s just a friend, forget about it,” Zhang Xiao said, frowning. “Let her come to terms with it on her own. The world doesn’t revolve around her.”

Qi Hongyue patted Ying Yuan’s shoulder to reassure her and pressed the wine glass back into her hand. “It was bound to happen sooner or later. Sit down and let’s keep playing.”

“Okay,” Ying Yuan agreed.

At that moment, she cast everything aside.

She no longer needed to do anything, not even think. She could simply play her own game, be with her friends, waste her time, and embrace her emotions.

Pain, emptiness, numbness, yet strangely liberating.

Zhang Xiao pulled out a deck of cards from who-knows-where, leaned in sideways, and focused intently on cheering Ying Yuan up. “I’ll do a magic trick for you! If I succeed, you have to give me a reward. If I fail, I’ll punish myself.”

Ying Yuan’s gaze fixed on the deck. “Alright.”

Yi Shanshan slipped out of the bar. Outside, three or four people were waiting for her.

The moment they saw her expression, they rushed over to her.

“Did you find her, Shanshan?”

“That DJ definitely works here. Her style is unmistakable.”

“The security here is tight—they call the cops at the slightest sign of trouble. But don’t worry, if you have a problem, we’ll just bring her out. They can’t stop us then…”

Yi Shanshan didn’t respond, continuing to walk straight ahead.

The three or four people trailing behind her chattered incessantly, speculating about her intentions and offering solutions. But none of their words penetrated her mind.

At that moment, her mind was a kaleidoscope of fragmented memories and countless voices.

It was Ying Yuan’s myriad expressions—questions, answers, a chaotic jumble of thoughts, old and new—a raging fire consuming her from within, burning uncontrollably.

She had become an overloaded machine, desperately needing to cool down, to process, to replace its worn parts, to reboot.

And none of the people behind her could provide the services she desperately needed.

“Go back,” Yi Shanshan said.

The group froze, startled.

“Stop following me,” she repeated. “Leave this place.”

As she walked further, no one followed.

The surroundings grew quieter, but the clamor in her mind persisted.

This was the bar district, awash in neon lights and teeming with crowds.

Yi Shanshan turned into a narrow alley, where the dim light and sticky, damp pavement created a stifling atmosphere.

The air was heavy and stifling, like a steam room. Yi Shanshan stopped, gasping for breath amidst the frantic pounding of her heart.

Though she had only walked a short distance, Yi Shanshan’s body was slick with sweat, clinging to her skin and tangling her thoughts.

She turned back to look. The bar where Ying Yuan was still visible, its neon sign flickering like a portal to a bewitching, alien world.

Ying Yuan had been at the bar for hours.

Zhang Xiao was a fascinating companion and a captivating woman. They played games, danced wildly on the dance floor, and shared personal stories, introducing Ying Yuan to a world of new experiences.

Exhausted, they collapsed on the sofa, casually sipping sweet, low-alcohol drinks. Ying Yuan felt her pain had indeed eased.

Qi Hongyue, who hadn’t slept well the previous night, leaned back with her eyes closed. Even in the noisy environment, she remained serene, like an unyielding bedrock.

Ying Yuan checked her watch. It was already ten o’clock.

“Let’s head back,” she said. “Senior, you need to rest properly.”

“Leaving so early?” Zhang Xiao asked. “There’s a performance at eleven.”

Ying Yuan smiled and patted Qi Hongyue’s arm. “She has work tomorrow.”

“What about you?” Zhang Xiao asked.

What about you?

Ying Yuan’s thoughts momentarily drifted. Tomorrow, according to her original plans, she was supposed to go to a friend’s photography exhibition with Yi Shanshan, followed by the obligatory social dinner. Then, in the evening, she would take Yi Shanshan to the airport.

But in the span of just 24 hours, everything had changed. She figured she probably didn’t have that responsibility anymore.

“I’m fine,” Ying Yuan said. “Just tired.”

“Then let’s call it an early night,” Zhang Xiao said, ever considerate. She pulled out her phone. “Let’s add each other on WeChat.”

Ying Yuan: “We should already be friends.”

Zhang Xiao showed her a QR code. “That’s the public one, for teachers, classmates, and family. This one’s my personal account.”

Ying Yuan scanned the code, remembering Zhang Xiao’s stories about relationships. “Didn’t you say you only add people to your personal account if you’re… interested?”

Zhang Xiao nudged Ying Yuan’s shoulder, her smile radiant. “I am interested in you. Can’t you tell?”

“Oh…” Ying Yuan stammered.

“Anything’s possible,” Zhang Xiao said. “Let’s just take it slow and see how things go~”

That’s not bad, Ying Yuan thought.

Anything’s possible.

As they prepared to leave, Zhang Xiao also got ready to go. Their routes home were in the same direction.

The three of them packed up their belongings and stepped outside, chatting and laughing.

The air outside was stifling. Despite it being late at night, there was no relief from the heat, which clung to them like a thick blanket. The oppressive humidity hinted at an impending thunderstorm.

This was a pedestrian street; they needed to walk to the end to catch a taxi.

Zhang Xiao walked beside Ying Yuan, tilting her head and asking, “You still can’t even let me hold your arm? Would you jump if I touched you?”

Ying Yuan chuckled. “I would.”

“Ah… Such a decisive rejection, it makes me want to try even more,” Zhang Xiao teased, leaning playfully against Ying Yuan. Feeling awkward, Ying Yuan instinctively shrank closer to Qi Hongyue.

Qi Hongyue raised a hand to steady her shoulder. “Walk properly. Quit with the flirting.”

In the dark alley at the corner, a pair of bright eyes watched everything.

As the trio drew near, Yi Shanshan suddenly emerged from the shadows like a cat.

“Ying Yuan,” she said, her voice flat, calm, and cold.

The three froze, stopping in their tracks.

Yi Shanshan stood a step away, the beautiful and haughty My Lady, her fox-like eyes narrowing as she glared at them.

Ying Yuan stiffened, staring at her blankly.

“Now that you’re done playing, you can come over,” Yi Shanshan said. “There are some things you need to explain to me.”

She was right.

I should face the consequences, Ying Yuan thought.

“Okay,” Ying Yuan said, taking a step forward.

Zhang Xiao blocked her path. “We can talk here, right? There’s plenty of space…”

Yi Shanshan glared at her, her eyes like chips of ice.

Zhang Xiao froze under that piercing gaze. Ying Yuan gently pushed Zhang Xiao’s arm aside. “It’s fine, you guys go on ahead.”

Qi Hongyue: “But I’m staying at your place. We’ll save on cab fare if we go back together.”

Zhang Xiao: “Yeah, yeah, we’re going the same way anyway. I was even planning to bum a ride with you guys!”

Qi Hongyue: “We’ll wait for you here.”

Zhang Xiao: “Right, we’ll wait.”

The chill in Yi Shanshan’s eyes intensified. Ying Yuan, sensing the escalating tension, hastily agreed. “Okay, I’ll catch up,” she mumbled, pushing through the crowd toward Yi Shanshan.

But Yi Shanshan didn’t wait. She turned and strode forward, her figure quickly disappearing into the darkness. Ying Yuan followed her into the shadows.

In the alley, there was no light.

The only illumination came from the main street, casting a bright, blurry world.

The deafening roar of air conditioning units filled the cramped space, making the air even more stifling, suffocating.

Ying Yuan felt she had always maintained a certain distance from Yi Shanshan. But in an instant, Yi Shanshan stopped, spun around, and the distance between them vanished.

She stood before her, gazing at her, her eyes the only stars in the darkness.

“So this is the eighth rule, isn’t it?” Yi Shanshan said. “The one you’ve always cared about but never mentioned.”

Ying Yuan’s throat was dry, but her answer came crisp and immediate: “Yes.”

Yi Shanshan: “Why end our relationship just because you’re gay?”

Ying Yuan: “I was afraid you’d mind. Too much physical contact would be awkward.”

Yi Shanshan: “Then why did you resume our relationship later?”

Ying Yuan: “Because we became friends, and you needed hugs to alleviate your anxiety.”

Yi Shanshan: “So you’d just give me whatever I needed? Are you some kind of selfless saint?”

Ying Yuan: “You’ve been very good to me too. We’ve forged a deep friendship. Helping a friend is the right thing to do.”

A wave of stifling heat washed over them.

Yi Shanshan’s fingers clenched into fists, her mouth agape, struggling to breathe.

The very thought of “being friends with Ying Yuan,” which had once brought her immeasurable joy, now felt like unbearable agony.

Her feelings for Ying Yuan had long surpassed the boundaries of friendship.

No friend had ever occupied her thoughts, tugging at her heartstrings with such relentless longing.

Lately, she had poured all her most intense emotions into Ying Yuan—rejoicing in her happiness, raging at her anger, breaking down at her sadness, even humbling herself to cling to her like a lapdog, waiting for her every move.

She had exhausted every means to possess her, and now, the key to resolving their conflict seemed to lie before her. Yet Ying Yuan insisted they were just friends.

Friends hung between them like a rusty saw, its grating teeth pulling back and forth with a decaying, ear-piercing screech.

Discovering love, like discovering pain, struck her completely unprepared.

Yi Shanshan drew a deep breath and asked, “If we’re just friends, why didn’t you reply to my messages today?”

“Because I had my own things to do,” Ying Yuan replied.

Yi Shanshan raised her hand, pointing toward the brightly lit world at the street corner. Her fingertips trembled, and her voice shook uncontrollably. “Is dating them what you wanted to do?”

Ying Yuan lowered her gaze. “Yes. I want to date.”

A thunderclap exploded overhead, accompanied by a deafening roar. Lightning flashed across half the sky, illuminating Ying Yuan’s face. That familiar, gentle face now seemed so cold. The sense of security only Ying Yuan could provide was rapidly slipping away.

Yi Shanshan stood on the precipice.

“It’s going to rain,” Ying Yuan said. “Let’s go home.”

She took a step as if to leave, and Yi Shanshan’s rationality finally shattered. She grabbed Ying Yuan’s wrist, forcefully yanking her close.

The impact was fierce, their chests pressed together, hearts pounding in unison.

Clinging to this body, Yi Shanshan had no intention of letting go. She pushed Ying Yuan backward, cornering her with nowhere to escape.

Ying Yuan’s shoulder pressed against the brick wall, while Yi Shanshan’s arm clamped tightly around her waist.

Before Ying Yuan could utter a sound or offer any resistance, Yi Shanshan’s actions and words crashed down like the long-brewing storm.

Her other hand gripped Ying Yuan’s neck, sliding down her skin.

“You’re afraid to touch others because you fear they’ll misunderstand. But when I touch you freely, you’re not afraid I’ll misunderstand?”

Her fingertips landed on Ying Yuan’s collarbone, contracting, digging in.

“They’re potential romantic partners. I’m just a plain friend who doesn’t stir any feelings in you at all.”

Her palm continued its descent, crossing the boundaries of friendship. Her trembling, feverish fingertips closed around Ying Yuan’s softness.

A jolt of electricity shot through Ying Yuan’s heart. Bean-sized raindrops pelted her face, creating tiny rivulets that slid down her skin.

Shaking, tingling.

Ying Yuan’s breath was stolen from her, yet Yi Shanshan pressed closer, glaring at her with ferocious intensity, spitting out cruel words.

“You want to date others, but not me? Am I not pretty enough? Not charming enough?”

Her fingertips traced teasing circles.

“Ying Yuan… don’t you feel anything right now?”