I’m Allergic to Pheromones - Chapter 4

“You want to break off the engagement?”

The cool beauty sat upright behind her desk, the expansive floor-to-ceiling windows behind her framing lazy white clouds against a deep blue sky.

Nan Ju sat across from her, her sunglasses long removed, her strikingly beautiful face lighting up the entire office.

She idly played with her fingers, her posture casual as she nodded nonchalantly.

“Yeah, I want to break off the engagement with you.”

The overpowering pheromones of an Alpha instantly flooded the room. The assistant who had come in with tea paled and immediately turned on her heel to leave, leaving the two titans to their standoff.

In this twisted novel world, the author had a clear preference for dominant Alphas, and Su Wei was one of the most formidable.

Her appearance was undeniably feminine, but she lacked the usual delicate softness of women—no makeup, pale lips, and sharp, narrow eyes that carried an intimidating presence when she fixed them on someone. In the real world, she’d fit the image of an aloof campus queen.

But this cold, beautiful girl also had br3asts! Though not particularly large, in this world, she was still an Alpha capable of impregnating others. Truly, appearances could be deceiving.

Nan Ju sat unfazed, completely unaffected by the oppressive pheromones. She lifted her eyelids and stared straight at Su Wei, cutting straight to the point.

“Fine, we don’t have to break it off. But I won’t bear your child.”

In an alliance marriage like theirs, failing to produce a child with both bloodlines would be like calling a doctor after death—utterly pointless.

Nan Ju had made up her mind. She needed to draw a clear line and stay far away from these dominant Alphas if she wanted to avoid repeating the original owner’s tragic fate—reduced to nothing but a breeding machine with her legs spread.

Some smutty novels were fun to read mindlessly, but the reality of living it was nothing short of terrifying.

Even setting that aside, if only to avoid being suffocated by the devilish stench of pheromones, she refused to be with an Alpha.

Too intense. She couldn’t handle it—she’d definitely become frigid.

Su Wei’s pheromones were… interesting. They carried the scent of marigolds—a fragrance that could only be described as overwhelmingly pungent.

Nan Ju, sitting less than two meters away, got a full whiff and couldn’t help but pinch her nose, feeling like the air had thinned. The overpowering marigold scent was downright tyrannical.

Back in the orphanage where she grew up, the director had planted two large flower beds full of marigolds. Every autumn, the rain would beat the petals to the ground, and the deep orange blossoms would wash against the walls, their stench dizzying to anyone who passed by.

Nan Ju had endured that smell for seven whole years—her resistance was unparalleled. She leaned back in her chair, holding her breath slightly as she closed her eyes, her long lashes casting butterfly-wing shadows. Her words were laced with hooks, dripping with mockery.

“Or is it that President Su just enjoys forcing people into submission?”

Su Wei frowned, watching as Nan Ju paled slightly under the pressure of her pheromones. She took a few steps back and turned on the office’s air purifier.

She was indeed angry, but not enough to bully a delicate Omega.

The marriage alliance was decided by the elders of both families—they were merely pawns on the chessboard. Cold by nature, she didn’t particularly care which Omega family she’d marry into, yet the ingrained teachings from childhood and her innate protective instincts toward Omegas ultimately prevailed.

“Sorry.”

Nan Ju opened her eyes in surprise.

How rare—a paper-thin Alpha actually apologizing.

“So you’re agreeing?”

Su Wei pressed her lips together, still somewhat irritated. Being asked to break off an engagement by an Omega was a blow to her pride, yet she couldn’t bring herself to say anything cutting.

Nan Ju was five years younger than her—barely more than a little sister in terms of age, and a stunning one at that, the kind who’d make her look good in public.

So young. If she had been allowed to grow up properly, perhaps she too would have blossomed into someone as beautiful and proud as the eldest daughter of the Nan family.

A shadow flickered in the woman’s eyes, dark and fleeting, her aura controlled with practiced ease before she reverted to her usual expressionless, taciturn CEO demeanor.

Nan Ju gave her a sharp glance, sensing an abrupt chill in the air.

Su Wei was tall, even taller than Nan Ju. She took a few steps forward, her figure casting a shadow over the petite woman seated in the chair.

Nan Ju remained still, tilting her breathtakingly beautiful face upward, her gaze clear and docile. Despite being thoroughly pinned in place, Su Wei saw no trace of fear—only an almost naive composure.

This Omega wasn’t afraid of her.

How strange.

Every Omega she’d met had cowered before her cold demeanor.

“Since you want to break the engagement, have you thought about how to explain it to your family?”

Nan Ju’s eyes curved into crescents.

Success!

“I brought the betrothal token. We just need to exchange them and return them to their original owners. Don’t worry about my family—I’ll take full responsibility. If they make a fuss, just blame everything on me.”

She pulled out a square wooden box tied with a silk ribbon from her bag and placed it on the table, nudging it toward Su Wei with a fingertip.

“Here’s yours. Where’s mine?”

A slender, pale hand stretched out unceremoniously. Su Wei stared at Nan Ju, who was unabashedly demanding the betrothal token, and felt an odd sense of exhaustion.

“The token is at home. I’ll bring it to you tonight.”

Fine.

Nan Ju pouted slightly but didn’t press further. The engagement was being dissolved smoothly—she was satisfied.

“Then I’ll take my leave. Don’t forget to bring it over tonight.”

Having gotten what she wanted, Nan Ju strode off without a second thought, showing no interest in lingering for small talk with her ex-fiancée.

Utterly shameless.

Su Wei lowered her gaze to the carved trumpet vine pattern on the corner of the wooden box and called out just as Nan Ju reached the door.

“Why can’t I smell your pheromones anymore?”

I’m a successor of socialism!

How could I possibly have something as sinful as pheromones?

Nan Ju waved a hand, unruffled.

“I have a cold. My nose is stuffed.”

Su Wei: “…”

What does your stuffy nose have to do with me not smelling your pheromones?

But Nan Ju was already out the door, leaving no room for further questions.

—

Back in the car, Nan Ju gazed absently out the window before letting out a soft, involuntary laugh.

The engagement had been called off just like that. It seemed Su Wei hadn’t been particularly fond of the original owner—a big-breasted, beautiful yet brainless and naive rich girl—after all.

This was even better. As long as she could figure out a solution, she could alter the plot that might unfold in the future.

“Uncle Wang, you can head back first later. I want to take the car out for a spin.”

The veteran driver hesitated for a moment but eventually pulled over to the deserted roadside.

“Alright, please drive safely.”

Nan Ju met his gaze in the rearview mirror, astutely noticing the unspoken words on his face.

She pondered for a moment, realizing that if she weren’t playing the role of an ultra-rich heiress, she’d probably be scolded mercilessly by her elders for the outrageous act of scratching the car door with the diamond on her shoe.

What a wasteful brat!

Nan Ju cleared her throat, feeling a pang of guilt.

Well, how was she supposed to know back then that she was kicking an eight-million-dollar car?

“Don’t worry, Uncle Wang. I’m wearing little leather boots this time.”

Uncle Wang fell silent. Uncle Wang had nothing more to say.

–

The sports car darted through the flower market like a red lightning bolt.

This absurd city was overflowing with blossoms—branches layered upon branches, flowers crowding flowers, the vibrant blooms stuffing the early spring to the brim. With each gust of wind, petals fluttered down in a riot of colors.

The place bore an eerie resemblance to the real world—bustling, lively, bursting with life—yet it was also starkly different.

Because Nan Ju had never encountered social norms like “Alphas and Betas have the duty and responsibility to protect Omegas” or national policies advocating “encouraging Alpha-Omega reproduction, early marriage, and early childbirth.”

Blatant slogans lingered on towering electronic screens, so high up they seemed suspended in the clouds, untouchable.

In the shadows beneath the skyscrapers, people strolled about casually, as if it were the most ordinary thing. Occasionally, she’d spot a woman or man with a rounded belly being supported by someone.

They were young and radiant, new life growing within them.

Amidst this extreme absurdity, under the broad daylight, Nan Ju’s frantic heart gradually settled.

This must be another twisted evolution of humanity, she mused solemnly.

The cool wind scattered petals haphazardly, a few drifting into the car. Nan Ju picked one up, sniffed it, and immediately stuck out her tongue, nearly gagging.

Damn it! It was actually a hawthorn flower! This world really was downright lewd!

Her melancholy shattered into pieces. Fuming, Nan Ju stomped on the accelerator and took off.

By the time the orange-red hues of dusk painted the horizon, Nan Ju was leisurely strolling back, nibbling on half a waffle cone.

Driving a Rolls-Royce around town wasn’t practical, and hitting up a mall risked running into acquaintances. So she’d parked early in a secluded alley at the end of the street and wandered into this narrow, shabby lane, eating her way from one end to the other, downing three large cups of herbal tea along the way.

The best street food was always hidden in the city’s corners—places noisy and unrefined, where the lives of the working class were laid bare.

Dilapidated residential buildings lined both sides of the road, their intertwined banyan branches forming a green archway overhead.

The chill crept into her collar with the breeze. By the time Nan Ju reached the end of the street, the sky had darkened halfway, thick clouds dotted with faint stars.

She crunched down the last of the crispy cone and tossed the wrapper into a roadside bin.

A full stomach brought contentment, but the lingering smell of street food wasn’t exactly pleasant.

Nan Ju thought guiltily: Sorry to put you through this, eight million.

The newly acquired red eight-million-dollar car was abandoned by its unscrupulous owner at the alley entrance. Nan Huai turned a corner, about to fish out her car keys from her pocket, when her gaze fell upon a sight that drained the color from her face.

A short figure was standing on tiptoe, half their body already inside the car window of the eight-million-dollar vehicle.

Nan Ju’s face turned deathly pale, her mind screaming only one thought:

“My money, my money, my money!”

As the setting sun dipped below the horizon and chilly winds blew in the gathering dusk, a woman’s eerie voice floated through the air like a debt-collecting ghost.

“What are you doing to my eight million?”

The small figure halfway into the car jumped in fright, their head smacking hard against the car window with a heavy thud.

Nan Ju couldn’t help but hiss and take a step back, only to see the person scramble out of the car, throw her a panicked glance, and bolt toward a nearby alley.

She didn’t even get a proper look at their face.

But they didn’t get far before stopping.

“I wasn’t stealing! You left your window open. Someone was about to take the bag from your car.”

The voice was hoarse but carried a childish lilt.

Nan Ju paused her phone-dialing motion, glancing at her otherwise intact car with its wide-open window, and raised an eyebrow.

“If you weren’t stealing, then why run?”

The small figure refused to turn around. Nan Ju could only see them standing in the shadow of the wall—frail, wearing an oversized polo shirt and shorts that didn’t fit, their silhouette suggesting an eleven- or twelve-year-old child so thin a strong wind might blow them away.

“I was just trying to find the button to roll up the window. Check your car’s surveillance if you don’t believe me.”

Nan Ju remained unmoved, merely shaking her keys to produce a crisp, ominous jingle.

“Turn around, or I’m calling the police.”