I’m Allergic to Pheromones - Chapter 12

The orphanage didn’t have many weeding tools, so they had to pull the wild grass out of the tough soil with their bare hands—it was hard physical labor.

Tang Ou was distracted. Squatting by the wall, she plucked the weeds one by one, but her focus lingered on her wrist, where a pink hair tie dangled.

“Bai Cha, do you think she’ll still come?”

Tang Ou couldn’t stop thinking about the Beta woman who had visited the orphanage alone last time. She was plain-looking but gentle, speaking softly and slowly, her eyes shimmering faintly with unmistakable affection when she looked at the children.

Many kids had hoped to be chosen that day, including Tang Ou herself. They all lifted their heads, trying their best to appear more obedient and well-behaved than the others.

But the Beta woman shook her head, didn’t pick any of them, and then went into the office with the matron.

Tang Ou was crushed. She really liked this potential adopter and had desperately wanted to become her child—she would have been so good, so obedient.

That day, stubbornly, she refused to leave, standing alone in the yard, waiting.

She waited and waited until, finally, the Beta woman came out by herself. Tang Ou remembered the surprise on her face when she spotted her, then the way she beckoned her over like calling a little puppy.

The woman touched Tang Ou’s sunburned, flushed cheeks and tied up her hair with gentle hands, promising that if Tang Ou was still here when she returned to the orphanage in three months, she would adopt her.

Tang Ou believed her wholeheartedly.

But now, three months had passed, and the woman hadn’t come. Many of the other kids mocked Tang Ou for daydreaming, and the little girl had secretly cried over it more than once.

Bai Cha never hoped for—nor wanted—anyone to adopt her, so she pressed her lips together awkwardly and glanced at the hair tie on Tang Ou’s wrist. “There’ll be new adopters next weekend. Do you want to try?”

“What do you think?”

Tang Ou was torn. She really liked that Beta woman, but she was also afraid that waiting any longer would only lead to disappointment. Yet, the thought of trying for a new adopter made her feel unwilling.

She had promised to come back for her.

“If I tell the matron I don’t want to be adopted by anyone else… Bai Cha, would you think I’m a total idiot?”

Every child in the orphanage wanted a family—who would be picky about adoptive parents? Even Tang Ou felt like she was being ungrateful and delusional as soon as the words left her mouth.

“No,” Bai Cha said slowly, yanking out a weed that had grown up to her knees. “You haven’t presented yet. It’s fine to wait a little longer.”

Some kids preferred to wait until after they presented to be adopted—after all, if they turned out to be an Alpha or Omega, they’d have the chance at a better family.

Who wouldn’t want a better life?

The orphanage had over forty children, ranging from four or five years old to seventeen or eighteen. Tang Ou was only fifteen—it wasn’t like she was in a hurry.

Following Bai Cha’s reasoning, Tang Ou’s anxiety and indecision melted away, her dejected expression brightening instantly. But then, as if remembering something, her face suddenly tensed with worry.

“Then… are you still going out tonight? The weeds in the yard have all been cleared—I think it’s unsafe. Maybe you shouldn’t go.”

Tang Ou knew that Bai Cha would sneak out over the weekends to do odd jobs. The welfare home’s walls weren’t too high, but for someone barely 151cm tall, it was still a challenge. Every time, Tang Ou would crouch by the wall to give Bai Cha a boost.

On weekends, half the staff were off duty, making supervision lax. After the 10 PM bed check, it was easy to slip out unnoticed, using the tall weeds as cover for climbing over the wall to get up to mischief.

They’d been doing this for over a month now, splitting their earnings 60-40. Tang Ou had already saved nearly three hundred yuan.

But these past two days, she’d been feeling uneasy.

“We’ve got enough money—don’t go today. Your dark circles are terrible, and you’re so pale. You need rest, Bai Cha.”

Bai Cha wanted to say she was fine, but seeing her friend’s worried face, she hesitated and finally nodded. There really wasn’t much need to go out tonight anyway.

The streets were crowded with flower sellers now, all dressed cleaner and prettier than her, their bouquets neatly wrapped in paper. Last night, she’d had to run through four or five streets just to barely sell her flowers, and even then, the price had dropped by a third.

Next time, she’d have to try a different area.

“Not going tonight,” Bai Cha agreed, wiping her fingers on the grass before fishing a small, round object from her shorts pocket and slipping it into Tang Ou’s hands.

“Eat it quick—don’t let anyone see.”

It was a cold, round little egg. Tang Ou cupped it secretly in her palm, her eyes crinkling with delight.

“Okay.”

Bai Cha had stolen the egg from breakfast. She was allergic to eggs—eating them gave her rashes—and after one bad reaction as a child, she’d stopped having them altogether.

But if she didn’t take them, they’d stop giving them to her. So she pretended she could eat them now, only to secretly save them for Tang Ou.

The two crouched furtively by the wall, sharing their spoils while the tall weeds shielded them from prying eyes.

Bai Cha watched as Tang Ou peeled the egg, the faint fishy smell making her stomach turn. She looked away.

“I’ll go pull weeds. Eat fast.”

Tang Ou carefully nibbled a bit of the egg white, her eyes closing blissfully.

“Mhm.”

The sun grew stronger, its rays gradually creeping into the shaded corner where they hid. Bai Cha squatted, yanking at the weeds, sweat trickling down her forehead.

Suddenly, a shadow fell over her.

“Hey, brat. Remember who I am?”

She looked up, her pupils shrinking, fingers gripping the weed roots so tightly they turned white.

It was the same group who’d tried to steal from Nan Ju’s car before—the ones she’d threatened into backing off. They were also from the welfare home, all boys, and one of them had just presented as an Alpha two days ago.

Now, he was glaring at her with pure malice.

Sunlight filtered lazily through the gaps between branches and flowers, casting dappled patterns on the cool wooden floor where Nan Ju stood barefoot. She bent down, fingertips brushing the red rose she’d brought home last night, now placed on the small table in her room.

Whatever nutrient solution Aunt Pei had prepared, it worked wonders—the rose hadn’t wilted overnight and still looked fresh.

Nan Ju gently pinched the slightly yellowed, wrinkled edge of a petal before misting it lightly with a small spray bottle.

“Quite tenacious, aren’t you?”

Just like that stubborn, prickly little wildcat.

Her alarm chimed. She checked her phone—11 AM.

Perfect. Time to head out.

She had arranged to meet Su Wei today, planning to coax (just kidding) her into collaborating. For this purpose, she had pre-ordered ten pots of the most splendid stink lilies from the florist to be delivered, hoping the other party would be so moved by her thoughtful gift that they’d weep uncontrollably and beg on their knees to sign the contract immediately!

After all, she was such a little angel!

Meanwhile, in her distant office, CEO Su sneezed three times in succession. Rubbing her nose at her assistant’s surprised expression, she said, “Must be catching a cold.”

The assistant maintained a deadpan expression, speaking in a Buddha-like tone.
“No, I think you might be having an allergic reaction. Miss Nan Ju sent another batch of stink lilies—they’re currently waiting outside your door.”

Su Wei fell into profound silence.