I’m Allergic to Pheromones - Chapter 28

“Hey, big guy, her legs are so long.”

“They really are, probably long enough to reach your chest.”

“No way.” Tang Ou rolled her eyes and gave Mo Chuiliu a sharp elbow jab before leaning over the balcony railing to get a better look.

In front of the dormitory, a few figures had just stepped out from under the eaves. Nan Ju held her phone in one hand, her expression icy—like a frozen lake in spring, untouchable.

She turned, her high ponytail swaying slightly. The exceptionally tall Omega lowered her long lashes, her gaze falling on the black-clad nun shrinking timidly to the side. There was an inexplicable quiet gentleness in her demeanor, but her words were laced with frost, like flowers soaked in rain.

“Where did you lock her up?”

The tall, thin middle-aged nun pressed her lips together, her face etched with deeper suffering. “In the confinement room. But when we checked this morning, she was already gone. She must have sneaked out last night! This has nothing to do with our orphanage. You know how it is—with so many children together, there’s always one or two who are particularly unruly and disobedient.”

“She was obedient!” Nan Ju cut off the nun’s increasingly frantic excuses, her voice cold and deliberate, each word ground out slowly between clenched teeth.

“She was the most well-behaved child I’ve ever met. Please don’t speak ill of her in front of me, okay?”

Though phrased as a polite request with honorifics, her tone sent an involuntary chill down the spine. The thin nun immediately fell silent, gripping her robe tightly, too afraid to meet Nan Ju’s eyes.

The assistant, noticing her superior’s anger—visible in the reddening corners of her eyes—stepped forward, polite yet firm. “Where is the confinement room? Please lead the way, Sister.”

The three moved away, distancing themselves from the dormitory. The children, still perched on the balcony and chattering like noisy fledglings in a nest, eagerly discussed the beautiful woman who had stormed into the orphanage.

Tang Ou, leaning farthest over the railing with her arms braced against the rough concrete, her feet barely touching the ground, kept watching until the figures disappeared. Then she turned to whisper to her friend.

“Were they here for Bai Cha? Did something happen to her outside?”

Mo Chuiliu pulled her down and dragged her into a corner, speaking rapidly under her breath. “Don’t panic. Bai Cha was locked up by the nuns yesterday—we haven’t seen her, got it?”

Before they could finish, hurried footsteps and the jingling of keys interrupted them.

A plump nun, sweating profusely, climbed the stairs and shooed everyone back into their rooms.

“Back inside, all of you! No more peeking over the balcony. What are you doing awake during nap time?”

The children scattered like startled birds. Tang Ou was about to follow Mo Chuiliu back to their room when she was suddenly called out.

“Tang Ou, stay here. Come with me—there’s something I need to discuss with you.”

Her wrist was seized. Tang Ou looked up into a pair of eyes brimming with unease and anxiety. Her heart skipped a beat, and she patted the other girl’s arm reassuringly, her round almond eyes crinkling into crescent moons as she smiled.

“Don’t worry.”

The orphanage didn’t have many trees, just an old carambola tree planted in the courtyard. Tang Ou covered her head with both hands to shield her eyes from the glaring sunlight as she jogged to catch up with the swiftly moving figure ahead.

“Sister, where are you taking me?”

“Don’t ask questions. When we get there, speak properly and don’t lie, understand?” The plump nun scolded sternly, then paused to scrutinize the round-faced girl trailing behind her.

“Tang Ou, are you sure you didn’t see Bai Cha last night? I remember you two were very close, always sticking together even during prayers.”

Tang Ou let herself be examined, her plump cheeks flushed from running. At the question, her eyes widened with a mix of nervousness and delight.

“No, Bai Cha’s still in the detention room, isn’t she? She was locked up by Sister Mary for misbehaving. Are you letting her out early?”

“Sister, I knew you were the best!”

The plump nun didn’t answer but instead patted Tang Ou’s head, her tone worried: “She escaped from the detention room. There’ll be a guest meeting you later. Be a good girl and don’t say anything unnecessary—just say you know nothing, understand?”

Tang Ou appropriately feigned shock and disbelief, allowing herself to be led dazedly by the nun to the detention room door.

Inside the normally dark, sunless room stood a woman.

Tang Ou stopped at the doorway, watching as the woman turned to reveal an extraordinarily beautiful face that seemed to brighten the entire gloomy, cramped space.

For a moment, her heart seemed to stop.

This tall, clearly wealthy young woman looked even more dazzling than when she’d burst into the dormitory earlier—like she was glowing.

Her legs were so pale, and so very long!

“Miss Nan, this is Tang Ou.” The plump nun quickly glanced at her colleague standing nearby, then pinched Tang Ou’s back to prompt her to greet the visitor.

The girl remained stunned, silent.

Nan Ju didn’t move. She stayed in the dim detention room, quietly observing the round-faced child at the door.

Her face was so round, like a little plump bird.

“You’re Bai Cha’s best friend?”

Hearing her friend’s name, Tang Ou snapped out of her daze and proudly puffed out her small chest: “Yes.”

After answering, she looked again at the radiant Nan Ju, then thoughtfully stepped forward. Tilting her head up obediently, she asked in a clear voice: “What did you want to see me about?”

The people outside had already been cleared away by the assistant. Nan Ju glanced briefly before returning her gaze to Tang Ou’s composed face: “Can you tell me where Bai Cha went?”

Blinking innocently under the scrutiny, Tang Ou replied: “I don’t know. Sister said she escaped from the detention room. Pretty lady, why are you looking for Bai Cha?”

“You don’t know?”

Nan Ju murmured softly to herself, a shadow briefly crossing her eyes. She took a few steps forward into the light streaming through the open door, then bent down to ruffle Tang Ou’s hair, speaking earnestly:

“I miss her, so I need to find her.”

“Thank you for helping her escape. I’ll take it from here.”

The soft touch and the sweet fragrance of an adult woman vanished in an instant. Tang Ou froze for a moment, staring at the sharp stone in the corner before clenching her fists and suddenly turning around.

“Pretty nice person! Are you the Beta that Bai Cha said would come to adopt her? Bai Cha didn’t do anything wrong! The money wasn’t stolen!”

“I know.” Nan Ju had just stepped over the threshold. Turning back to face the vibrant spring scenery, her eyes brimmed with light.

“She’s so well-behaved—how could she possibly do anything bad?”

–

“Miss, should we report this to the police station first?”

Nan Ju opened the car door, only to see a certain girl sprawled across the entire back seat, snoring soundly. After a silent pause, she closed the door again and went straight to the passenger seat.

“No, head to Su Wei’s place first. I have an appointment with her.” Nan Ju tapped a few times on her phone before adding, “I’ve sent two phone numbers to your phone. Find out their locations.”

“Got it. If we locate them, should we ask the family to help track down the person?”

Finding someone in the flower market might be difficult for others, but for the wealthy and influential Nan family, it was as simple as giving an order.

The assistant didn’t know what relationship this girl named Bai Cha had with Nan Ju, but it was clear she was important.

If they failed to find her, the entire welfare institute might face dire consequences.

“Have people search discreetly. Notify me the moment she’s found, and be careful not to scare her.”

The assistant nodded, started the car, and glanced at the rearview mirror, inwardly marveling at how fools sometimes stumble upon good fortune. Then, hesitantly, she reminded, “Miss, please fasten your seatbelt.”

She had wanted to say this earlier, but Nan Ju’s low mood had made everyone too afraid to breathe loudly.

Unaware of how grim her expression was, Nan Ju gave a quiet “Mm,” placed her phone on her lap, leaned over to pull the seatbelt across, and then picked up her still-lit phone again like a severe internet addict.

“Let’s go.”

Stealing a sidelong glance, the assistant caught a glimpse of what seemed to be a call log page before quickly looking away, not daring to pry further.

–

The car stopped in front of a large building. Nan Ju unbuckled her seatbelt and couldn’t resist asking before getting out, “Still no news?”

The assistant shook her head.

“Both numbers were traced, but they’re from public phones. The family has already dispatched people to search.”

“Mm.” Nan Ju’s cold expression remained unchanged as she pushed the car door open. “No need to keep the car for me. Coordinate with Mi Fan—no need to go to the company these two days. Notify me if there’s any news. As for that thing in the back seat, just dump it somewhere.”

The assistant silently watched her superior walk away before turning to look at the person still dead asleep in the back seat, sincerely muttering under her breath.

“Envy.”

This wasn’t Nan Ju’s first time in Su Wei’s office. Every meeting between them had taken place here—from calling off their engagement to striking under-the-table deals.

Su Wei arrived late, pushing the door open and initially thinking she had missed Nan Ju, only to feel something was off after taking a few steps forward.

“What are you doing crouched on the floor?”

Behind her desk, a woman with a high ponytail and a striking figure was kneeling by the floor-to-ceiling window, fiddling with her flowers.

It was downright bizarre!

Nan Ju turned her head to glance back, patted her hands, pinched her knees, and stood up before unabashedly plopping herself into the other’s office chair. Slouching bonelessly with lowered lashes, she teased with a smile, “Why so nervous? I won’t break your little ‘One’.”

From “One” to “Ten”—these were the names Su Wei had given to the row of marigolds she kept by the floor-to-ceiling window, even hand-writing numbered labels to stick on them. It was quite amusing.

Having her overly cute hobby directly pointed out, Su Wei cleared her throat and closed the door, attempting to change the subject.

“Sorry, something came up and I’m late. Have you been waiting long?”

“Not too bad. Just an hour and fifty-eight minutes.” Nan Ju replied leisurely, thoroughly enjoying the usually composed CEO’s flustered expression before suddenly adding, “You’re not embarrassed, are you?”

Cough cough cough…

A fit of violent coughing ensued as the typically aloof, taciturn, and wealthy CEO choked on a sip of water.

The cup was hastily placed on the water dispenser’s drip tray. Su Wei pressed a hand to her chest while covering her lips with the other, coughing. Her fair complexion instantly flushed with a delicate pink, her damp lashes sticking together as she shot an irritated glare—possessing all the allure of an angry beauty.

Nan Ju blinked innocently, lips curving. “You choked all by yourself. What does that have to do with me, Nan Ju?”

Enduring the burning pain in her throat, Su Wei decisively turned and headed for the restroom. When she returned, she had regained her usual cool and detached demeanor.

“What would you like to drink?”

The slightly hoarse-voiced CEO asked with impeccable courtesy, as if the earlier awkward scene had been completely forgotten in the blink of an eye.

Nan Ju remained sprawled in the other’s chair, leisurely taking in Su Wei’s missing suit jacket and the unbuttoned collar of her white shirt—the fabric slightly damp where water had splashed.

Her neck was still faintly flushed, though the pink on her face had already faded rapidly.

Blush-disappearing water escape technique. Adorable.

Nan Ju mused inwardly before replying mischievously, “Water’s fine. Everything else tastes bad.”

Su Wei fell silent.

Had she known Omegas held grudges like this, she wouldn’t have attended that ten-figure meeting. She shouldn’t have made Nan Ju wait in her office for an hour and fifty-eight minutes.

“Here.”

No matter how mortified, Su Wei still poured the glass of water and personally handed it over.

“Ye Qiushuang contacted me.”

“Oh? That fast?” Nan Ju sat up in the chair, cradling the cup as she lightly tapped the transparent surface, the corners of her eyes lifting as her lashes cast shadows. “What did you tell her?”

Su Wei glanced up, adjusting the office’s air conditioning slightly warmer before replying flatly, “Business is like a football match. Those who underperform get substituted. That’s only natural, isn’t it?”

Meeting her gaze, Nan Ju quickly masked the scrutiny in her eyes before slumping over the desk with an indifferent reply: “Sister Su Wei really is the best.”

Severing all business ties with the Ye family had been Nan Ju’s condition during their last meeting.

In exchange for splitting 50% of the profits from the successfully developed suppressant, she’d demanded Su Wei target Ye Qiushuang—forcing her out of the game prematurely.

Ye Qiushuang, whose wings were still unformed and who hadn’t even secured the family inheritance rights, would undoubtedly be furious—perhaps even make a ridiculous spectacle of herself like a clown.

Recalling how the Omega had been obedient and fawning before her just days prior, Su Wei couldn’t help but glance at the woman currently occupying her desk. With hands neatly folded on the surface like a perfectly well-behaved schoolgirl, she was boastfully praising her prized “Southern Orange.”

This one appeared even more docile—but appearances could be deceiving.

“Do you have some grudge against Ye Qiushuang? I thought you two were close friends.”

Southern Orange grinned mischievously. “Then you must not have heard—close friends are meant to be betrayed.”

Su Wei fell silent, genuinely unfamiliar with the saying. She truly couldn’t comprehend what went through the minds of youngsters these days.

But at this point, her favor naturally leaned toward Southern Orange.

She disliked Omegas who were overly scheming. Compared to Ye Qiushuang, who appeared fragile and delicate like dodder vines, Southern Orange’s persona—a pampered young miss with a fiery temper who was actually quite formidable—felt far more genuine.

Choosing not to acknowledge Southern Orange’s flattery, Su Wei instead walked over to stand before the floor-to-ceiling window. Gazing at the brilliant sunset outside, she remarked evenly, “You seem quite displeased.”

The transparent water glass faintly reflected a pair of striking eyes. Southern Orange released her grip on the cup, nudged the ground with her toes, and spun the chair around.

“Why do you say that?”

Su Wei hesitated. She wanted to say that if Southern Orange weren’t upset, she wouldn’t be teasing her—but reconsidered, deeming it undignified.

A proper Alpha shouldn’t be so petty. She ought to preserve some dignity for the delicate Omega.

Not that she was intimidated. She simply feared Southern Orange might retaliate by sending her chrysanthemums for thirty consecutive days if provoked.

“You misremembered the name. That pot of stinking chrysanthemum is ‘Little Eleven.’ ‘Little One’ withered last week.”

Southern Orange looked down in surprise, indeed spotting the label “Little Eleven” at the base of the pot. Her mind had been so unsettled she hadn’t even noticed the number.

The gloom weighing on her heart dissipated slightly at Su Wei’s blunt honesty. Dropping her forced smile, Southern Orange strode directly to the window to stand beside Su Wei.

After a long pause, Su Wei heard an unexpected question.

“Have you ever kept a cat?”

Su Wei turned her head slightly. The dark-haired Omega stood unusually close—so near that she caught the faintest hint of a sweet fragrance drifting into her senses.

Such proximity was typically unsafe for an Omega, yet Southern Orange seemed oblivious. She remained by the window, her 178cm frame statuesque, the curve of her waist accentuated against the light. Her expression, however, had lost its usual captivating allure, now tinged with something subdued.

She looked… sorrowful.

The observation struck Su Wei as oddly timed, but she answered truthfully, “I don’t like cats.”

“Of course. Someone who prefers plants wouldn’t care for cats.” Southern Orange chuckled softly, suddenly feeling the urge to confide in someone.

Watching the bustling crowds outside, she thought of the kitten she’d taken a liking to, her voice softening. “I adore cats—they’re soft and utterly endearing. Though they can be temperamental, not the easiest to approach.”

It sounded like a somewhat wild cat. Omegas usually adored such soft pets. Su Wei had seen others keep them before, but she wasn’t particularly fond of them herself.

As an Alpha, she inherently disliked creatures like pet cats that relied on cuteness and coquetry to win Omegas’ favor.

Too soft-boned.

“I remember your home has a lot of plants. If you plan to raise a cat, be careful—they can easily get poisoned.”

Nan Ju turned her head, raising an eyebrow curiously. “I thought you hated cats?”

“Not liking them doesn’t mean I hate them.”

Meeting Nan Ju’s heavily amused gaze, Su Wei tensed her jaw, maintaining composure. “My cousin has a Ragdoll cat. She often puts a collar and leash on it to take it out for walks. I’ve walked it for her a couple of times, so I know a thing or two.”

“Oh.”

Nan Ju deliberately drew out the syllable, watching as the other woman teetered on the edge of irritation before changing the subject. “The cat I want isn’t a pet—it’s a stray no one wants. It has beautiful eyes, and when it’s angry, its face puffs up while sharpening its claws. It’s adorable.”

“A stray?”

Nan Ju nodded.

“But I accidentally let it slip away. No matter—I’ll catch it again.”

A flicker of surprise crossed Su Wei’s usually impassive face. She hadn’t expected Nan Ju to choose a stray, which were notoriously difficult to tame. In her experience, no Omega would keep such a fierce animal.

Yes, fierce.

To delicate and fragile Omegas, untamed strays were naturally ferocious. In a way, Omegas and pet cats were strikingly similar breeds—

Pampered, soft-tempered yet willful, but easily tamed. Just wave a feather toy or shake a freeze-dried treat jar, and they’d roll on the floor, exposing their soft bellies.

Su Wei disliked such ingratiating creatures. But obviously, she could only grumble inwardly—she couldn’t voice these thoughts to the dark-haired Omega in front of her. Otherwise, she’d surely earn herself a sharp slap.

Nan Ju was beautiful and refined, but she was far from someone who could be pushed around. Her beauty carried an aloof aggression, like a blooming quince flower—petals delicate, yet the branches unyielding.

You could look up and chase after the blossoms on the branch, but the quince would never lower itself for you.

Su Wei gazed at this slender, exquisite quince and, after a moment’s thought, asked a question she would surely regret: “Do you want to go for a drink?”

Nan Ju, still in a foul mood, tilted her head in confusion. “What did you say?”

An hour later, a black Maybach pulled up in front of a hotel.

The rear door opened, and Su Wei stood outside, extending her hand in a slightly deferential bow. Three minutes passed, but the expected hand never took hers.

Night had just fallen, and people were coming and going at the bar entrance. The thin-skinned CEO gradually felt her ears burn under the seemingly scorching gazes of passersby.

Damn her tendency for socially awkward moments!

“You—”

“Don’t rush a woman doing her makeup. Wait.” Nan Ju huffed in annoyance, pulling the car door shut again and lifting her compact mirror to reapply her lipstick, leaving the poor CEO outside to suffer the cold wind alone.

The gazes from passersby grew increasingly intense. Su Wei maintained a cold expression as she glared back, unconsciously straightening her posture with hands in her pockets, exuding an imposing aura as if posing for a fashion shoot.

Half an hour later, Nan Ju leisurely stepped out of the car, raising an eyebrow as she glanced at the words “Elegance” above the bar entrance.

No serious business, just discussions of refinement?

“Let’s go.”

Su Wei’s face was nearly frozen stiff by the cold wind as she numbly followed Nan Ju, regretting for the thousandth time that she’d opened her mouth in the office. Watching the other girl’s light footsteps and animated, cheerful expression, she couldn’t help feeling puzzled.

“Did you put on makeup?”

“Yep, touched up my lipstick. How do you like my apricot cinnamon shade 235? Pretty nice, right?”

Su Wei’s confusion only deepened.

“What’s 235? You reapplied lipstick?”

Wasn’t that your natural lip color?

The unspoken half of her question died under Nan Ju’s increasingly murderous glare.

“Hmph!”

With a disdainful snort, Nan Ju lifted her chin and strode through the bar’s entrance, her ponytail swinging in a perfect arc that smacked right across someone’s face.

Su Wei…

Was that really necessary?

What exactly had she said wrong?