I’m Allergic to Pheromones - Chapter 17

The car was filled with the scent of an unfamiliar woman.

Light and clean, it carried a faint chill from the air conditioning, like raindrops clinging to spring branches veiled in mist—a subtle fragrance lingering in the breeze.

Bai Cha instinctively sniffed, suddenly snapping awake, her limbs stiffening awkwardly.

She must have lost her mind—how could she let an Alpha take her into a car?

Nan Ju knelt on the back seat, leaning forward to rummage for the first-aid kit behind her, completely oblivious to Bai Cha’s discomfort.

But Bai Cha couldn’t run.

Her shoulder was being used as a support, the washed-out round-neck T-shirt crumpled under delicate, pale fingers.

Bai Cha glanced at those soft, pink-tipped fingers and had only one thought: If I bolt now, she’ll faceplant.

“Found it.”

Nan Ju hooked out a small white first-aid kit and settled back, her loose strands of hair falling over her temples, brushing against her cheeks and the corners of her eyes. The elegant curve of her brows relaxed like a spring breeze rustling through branches.

For some reason, Bai Cha’s urge to flee faded again.

She sat pressed deep into the corner of the Rolls-Royce’s spacious back seat, clutching the bouquet of flowers, her calves dangling just shy of the carpeted floor.

Bai Cha glared, annoyed.

Nan Ju looked up from the kit, puzzled. “?”

Why did she suddenly see a sulky, puffed-up kitten?

“Take off your T-shirt,” she ordered bluntly, setting the kit aside before casually kicking off her remaining shoe and crossing her legs without a care.

The long skirt hid the motion, but Bai Cha could still tell this beautiful woman had crossed her legs—and even discarded her high heels.

Bai Cha pressed her lips together, feeling deceived.

What kind of decent person tells a minor to strip so casually?! Was this Alpha trying to harass her?

Clutching the crabapple blossoms tighter, she seized the moment Nan Ju looked down and bolted for the door, her small frame erupting with startling ferocity. In her haste, she knocked over the freshly opened medicinal oil, spilling it across the seat and filling the car with a pungent herbal scent.

Nan Ju’s soul left her body.

The door cracked open slightly before being slammed shut with a vengeance. Furious, Nan Ju grabbed the brat by the scruff of her neck, yanked her back, and firmly shut the door again, pinning her to the seat. She was so mad she almost laughed.

“What are you running for? If we don’t massage the bruise, how’s it gonna heal?”

Bai Cha, who had been flailing like a wildcat, froze.

“?? Then why’d you tell me to take my clothes off?”

“The windows have privacy tint! We’re both girls—what’s the big deal?” Nan Ju gritted her teeth and let go, picking up the spilled oil bottle and furiously blotting the seat with a handful of tissues, her pretty face full of sorrow.

“Sorry, car-car, I’ve defiled you… wuu.”

Bai Cha stared blankly, catching only a faint “sorry” before hearing the woman’s soft sniffles.

Had she… made her cry?

Since when were Alphas this weepy?

Bai Cha found it bizarre, but now that she knew she’d misunderstood, she was too embarrassed to know what to do.

The camellia flowers lay quietly on the black seat, already crushed from her earlier struggles. The delicate petals were scattered, the beautiful stems broken in many places, and the pink-white wrapping paper crumpled miserably.

Just five minutes ago, they had been lovely.

For the first time in her seventeen years, Bai Cha felt utterly at a loss. The sight of the ruined bouquet, pitifully strewn before her, filled her chest with an indescribable confusion and ache.

She wanted to apologize, but it felt too late. Silently, she curled up at the edge of the seat and gathered the camellias again, picking up each crushed petal and broken stem one by one.

By the time Nan Ju finished wiping up the spilled medicinal oil with a wet wipe, she looked up to see a dejected little kitten cradling the flowers, hands full of broken petals and leaves—a picture of miserable cuteness.

“You’re still here.”

Nan Ju spoke bluntly, then rubbed her nose guiltily at the sight of the girl’s downcast expression.

“Sorry, I didn’t explain clearly earlier and made you misunderstand. I just wanted to give you the medicinal oil to rub on, not bully you.”

She pushed over a brown bottle of oil, now only a third full, and retreated to the other side of the seat with an apologetic look, stopping only when her back touched the car door.

She hadn’t meant to be improper—she’d simply forgotten that girls could be of different genders.

Bai Cha stared at her blankly, then asked softly, “Aren’t you an Alpha?”

Alphas always bullied her.

“You think I look like an Alpha?”

The girl looked puzzled.

If not an Alpha, then a Beta? But could a Beta be that good-looking?

Bai Cha immediately dismissed the idea of Omega—no Omega would wander the streets late at night repeatedly unless they had a screw loose.

Nan Ju’s confusion was even greater. She quickly realized something was off.

“Are you an Omega?”

Otherwise, Bai Cha’s sudden, intense resistance and wariness made no sense. To Omegas, Alphas weren’t always protectors—sometimes, the sheer power imbalance triggered instinctive fear and submission.

At this thought, Nan Ju’s conscience ached even more. (QAQ)

“I didn’t know you were an Omega. I couldn’t smell your pheromones. Uh… should I take you to the hospital?”

She’d assumed Bai Cha was a Beta.

“I’m not an Omega.” Bai Cha frowned, visibly more annoyed by the label. But remembering her own mistake, she bit her lip and muttered awkwardly, “Sorry.”

Her voice was soft, but Nan Ju heard it.

A smile tugged at Nan Ju’s lips, her tone light and amused. “Then let’s call it even for what happened earlier?”

Bai Cha lowered her head, staring at the camellias in her arms, neither agreeing nor refusing.

Nan Ju took it as acceptance. She raised the partition in the backseat to block the camera, then turned away, no longer speaking carelessly. Her voice, slow and gentle, carried a quiet warmth in the small space.

“You’d better apply the oil yourself. Your face is all smudged like a little stray cat.”

Nan Ju knew the little one had gotten into a fight with someone, but she tactfully refrained from prying. After a moment’s thought, she added,

“I won’t look at you. The car door isn’t locked—you can leave anytime you want.”

Bai Cha pressed her lips together, staring fixedly at that slender back for a long while before carefully placing the begonia in her arms onto the seat. Then she tucked the stray petals and stems into the bouquet.

The quiet car was filled with the faint rustling of fabric.

Nan Ju gazed out the window, lost in thought.

After what felt like an eternity, she heard Bai Cha call her name softly.

“Finished wiping?”

Bai Cha bit her lip and spoke in a whisper, “I can’t reach my back… Can you help me?”

It was true—one couldn’t possibly wipe their own back. Nan Ju hummed in acknowledgment and turned around, only to be met with a back covered in bruises.

The girl’s dark hair, just past her shoulders, had rebellious strands curling against her neck. She had already taken off her shoes, her feet clad in old socks with small holes, kneeling on the back seat with her back slightly arched toward Nan Ju. The dim light obscured her face.

Nan Ju’s expression darkened slightly as she took in the fragile, battered body before her—far worse than she’d imagined. She reached out and lightly brushed her fingertips over the marks.

“Did they gang up on you?”

Those delicate bones were touched with pity, devoid of any inappropriate intent. Bai Cha shivered slightly, her ears flushing red, but her words remained stubborn. “I still won in the end.”

Nan Ju chuckled, the cold severity in her eyes melting away as she immediately praised,

“Good girl.”

“So brave.”

Slick medicinal oil was poured onto the bruises, and the already tender skin was kneaded firmly with soft fingertips. The pain, itch, and heat mingled, making Bai Cha feel as if she’d been steamed in a basket—her face, neck, and shoulders all flushed red.

Nan Ju knelt on one knee beside her, amused as the little one whimpered like a kitten under her ministrations. She pressed a hand against Bai Cha’s shoulder, guiding her down.

“If the bruises aren’t worked out, they’ll take longer to heal. Lower your head and arch your back.”

A large lump had formed near her tailbone. Nan Ju poured more oil into her palm and pressed down without mercy.

Bai Cha yelped in pain, immediately biting down on her lip to stifle the sound. She buried her face into the seat, making the culprit behind her laugh.

“Be good. I’ll be gentle.”

Working out the bruises hurt terribly. Bai Cha trembled down to her bones, tears welling up from the pain.

She knelt on the black car seat, defenselessly baring her back to a stranger she’d only met three times. This woman kneaded her until she felt like she might die, yet the pain somehow filled Bai Cha with happiness.

She bit down on her arm, tears dripping one by one onto the seat, dampening the floral paper wrapped around the begonias. The woman’s taller frame loomed over her from behind, trapping her in the corner—but for the first time, Bai Cha didn’t feel fear. Instead, she felt safe.

Like a wretched thief, she wanted to hide forever in this shadow, clinging to the rare warmth and tenderness.

Obediently, she bent forward, exposing her stubborn, fragile frame—letting Nan Ju trace every contour with just a fingertip. She was kneaded until her body trembled and her bones turned soft, even conjuring up a terrifying thought that startled even herself.

She wasn’t afraid of Nan Ju’s hand.

She loved it.