I’m Allergic to Pheromones - Chapter 40

“Thank you so much this time, Shuangshuang. I really wouldn’t have known what to do without you.”

The rhythmic swish of windshield wipers brushed away the rain against the glass. Inside the car, Xu Zhiyi gazed at Ye Qiushuang with profound apology, her striking features appearing even more chiseled in the confined space.

Seated in the passenger seat, Ye Qiushuang looked at Xu Zhiyi from a slight distance, her expression softening unconsciously.

“It’s no trouble at all. I’m just glad I could help. Nan Ju has already agreed—I’ll give you an invitation later, and you can come directly.”

The girl’s voice was soft and gentle, carrying the tender warmth unique to Omegas. Xu Zhiyi watched her quietly for a moment before looking away first, her voice low.

“Okay.”

It had indeed been Xu Zhiyi’s idea to ask Ye Qiushuang to mediate. Nan Ju’s cold rejection the day before had left her both angry and puzzled, prompting this solution.

Just as she had expected, Nan Ju was merely wavering due to family opposition—nothing that couldn’t be resolved.

With this thought, Xu Zhiyi felt confident again and added, “I’ll treat you to dinner once we make up.”

The Alpha smiled faintly, her eyes brimming with hopeful sincerity and straightforwardness.

Under such a gaze, Ye Qiushuang couldn’t help but feel a twinge of envy.

Why? Why did everyone like Nan Ju so much?

Why did everyone only ever see Nan Ju?

“Zhiyi-jie, I remember you met Nan Ju when you were eight, right?”

Xu Zhiyi nodded, slightly puzzled. “What about it?”

“Nothing, I was just curious about what you were like as a child.”

“Me as a child?” Xu Zhiyi’s brow twitched slightly as old memories surged like rain, but she suppressed them irritably, her lips still curved in a smile.

“I don’t remember much from back then. I recall elementary school more clearly. After I presented and tested well for my aptitude, I earned a spot at First Elementary through the school’s selection. That’s where I met Ju—Nan Ju. You probably know the rest.”

Of course, Ye Qiushuang knew the story. But she couldn’t shake her resentment, inexplicably craving more details about Xu Zhiyi’s past.

Nan Ju wasn’t wrong—Xu Zhiyi was poor, from an ordinary family, and unworthy of her status. Cutting ties early was undoubtedly the right choice.

Yet she couldn’t help feeling it was unfair, aching with indignation for the Alpha before her.

How could an Omega like Nan Ju, all beauty and no brains, dare to look down on an Alpha with ambition, vision, and drive?

“Did you already like Nan Ju back then? That’s so precocious.”

“Because she was dazzling—more than anyone else.” Xu Zhiyi answered with a smile, her eyes glistening faintly, softening her striking features.

The school where the children of the wealthy gathered was far from warm or forgiving.

Xu Zhiyi would never forget her first day at First Elementary—wearing faded trousers and an unflattering light-blue shirt, mocked loudly by children who hadn’t even presented yet.

Nan Ju sat quietly on the playground swing, surrounded by a crowd. She was the only one not smiling—a beautiful yet aloof princess who effortlessly attracted countless followers and admirers without even trying.

Xu Zhiyi instinctively disliked her, yet couldn’t help but pay attention.

Nan Ju was like the most exquisite little cake displayed in a shop window. Xu Zhiyi could only tiptoe to peer through the thick glass, unable to taste or smell it, yet she took detours every day just to look.

She wanted it so badly—wanted to take a bite, to see if it was as sweet and soft as she imagined. If not, she’d smash it to the ground, shattering it into pieces.

The rain grew heavier, pattering loudly against the car window. Xu Zhiyi pulled her wandering thoughts back, quietly concealing the madness in her eyes.

“Back then, every kid in school adored Nan Ju. I was just one insignificant nobody among them.” Xu Zhiyi shook her head, a hint of self-deprecation in her tone. “I know it’s because of my poor background that she found me so troublesome.”

Ye Qiushuang’s heart stirred slightly. Pouting, she retorted earnestly, “That’s not true at all! I think Sister Zhiyi is amazing—top of the class every year, winning scholarships, and now even joining the military. You’re incredible!”

The girl’s sincere praise shimmered in her eyes, brimming with admiration.

Xu Zhiyi’s handsome, spirited face softened into a warm, unshakable smile. She reached out and gently pinched Ye Qiushuang’s nose, her short, soft hair slipping forward.

“Good girl.”

Ye Qiushuang’s heart pounded wildly. Her fingers curled involuntarily, torn between wanting to look at the other and not daring to, her cheeks flushing crimson.

As an Omega, she was naturally drawn to powerful Alphas. Yet, her innate desire for control made her disdain those arrogant, overbearing Alphas. Wen Qiao was gentle and compliant, meeting most of her needs, but sometimes, she couldn’t help craving just a little more.

Someone like Xu Zhiyi was practically tailor-made for her fantasies.

Bright, full of vitality, strikingly handsome in a military uniform that left one weak at the knees—buttoned all the way up—yet warm and endlessly patient. She was the perfect candidate.

Ye Qiushuang could easily take control, turning the sun that belonged only to Nan Ju into her own. The thought made her eyes redden slightly, as if she’d found the perfect way to exact revenge.

Her hand trembled slightly as she reached out, grasping Xu Zhiyi’s fingers, her gaze hazy. “Sister Zhiyi… my gland feels like it’s burning.”

Xu Zhiyi froze for a second, immediately sensing the rapidly intensifying Omega pheromones in the car. Before she could react, Ye Qiushuang gasped softly, “Wen Qiao is away on business. Could you… give me a temporary mark? I won’t tell anyone.”

The rain poured harder, blurring the car windows until the outside world was completely obscured.

Inside the villa, Nan Ju led Bai Cha into a quiet room.

The door slid shut with a soft whoosh. Bai Cha looked around in confusion, unsure why Nan Ju had brought her here.

She hadn’t originally planned to mention how Ye Qiu Shuang had nearly hit her with a car before. But when she saw the woman leaving downstairs, she recognized her immediately, and the injustice in her heart became too much to bear. Before she knew it, the words came pouring out like beans from a bamboo tube.

Strictly speaking, it wasn’t entirely Ye Qiu Shuang’s fault. That night, Bai Cha had been too focused on reading street signs, standing right in the middle of the road. If she’d been hit, it would have been her own doing.

But she remembered it clearly.

She had been so startled that she fell to the ground, the heavy rain pounding against her body. The fever and the cold rain sapped her strength, her bones aching so badly they trembled, her eyelids so heavy she could barely keep them open.

She hadn’t known she was about to undergo differentiation.

That rainy night, she had been insulted, sitting in the filthy water like a dirty beggar, the last flicker of hope to find Nan Ju extinguished in her heart.

Even now, the humiliation still burned.

After holding it in for so long, Bai Cha couldn’t resist stepping into the greenhouse, slowly recounting this painful memory to Nan Ju.

Was she angry?

Of course she was angry.

Was she upset?

Undoubtedly.

But after saying it out loud, the resentment didn’t feel as overwhelming as she’d imagined. Maybe it was Nan Ju’s gentle hand soothing her back, or perhaps it was the way Nan Ju accepted her grievances without question, giving Bai Cha an inexplicable sense of comfort and satisfaction.

All the regret and loss she had felt that rainy night was now found in Nan Ju.

With her heart unburdened, Bai Cha felt lighter, her curiosity piqued by a watercolor painting displayed ahead.

It depicted a crabapple branch—sturdy stems, delicate leaves, tender petals—clearly unfinished.

Noticing the obvious crooked stroke on one of the branches, Bai Cha turned to Nan Ju, who was rummaging through a cabinet. “Did you paint this, sister?”

Nan Ju pulled out a water dish, paints, and brushes, arranging them on the table before guiding Bai Cha to sit down.

“This crabapple branch still needs a few finishing touches. You can add them.”

Bai Cha stiffened, staring at the art supplies in front of her before turning her head nervously. “I—I don’t know how to paint.”

“Just add two leaves to that crooked branch. I’ll mix the colors for you—paint however you feel, and I’ll help you complete it.”

As she spoke, Nan Ju had already prepared the green pigment on the palette and placed the brush in Bai Cha’s hand.

“Go on, try.”

With no other choice, Bai Cha carefully dipped the brush into the paint and touched it to the paper. But with no experience, her fingers trembled, and a droplet of paint fell from the tip, forming a small, round dot like a plump green dewdrop.

Nan Ju chuckled softly, leaning in from behind to steady Bai Cha’s shaking hand. Her soft, long hair cascaded down, draping over Bai Cha’s shoulders and back.

The alluring fragrance of a mature woman enveloped them, making it even harder to stay composed.

“Do you know why this painting has remained unfinished for so long?”

Bai Cha shook her head blankly, then froze, the tips of her ears turning red as she asked, “Why?”

“Because that night you called me eleven times and I missed every single one. I was working on this painting at the time, but couldn’t get it right, so I never finished it.”

The soft brush tip pierced through a water droplet, adding green leaves to the brown branches, gradually repairing the previously flawed sections until they looked vibrant and flawless.

Bai Cha listened in silence, watching as Nan Ju guided her hand stroke by stroke to bring out the most beautiful version of this crabapple blossom. The continuous rain outside made her feel as if she was standing once more before the street sign, reading “No. 1 Tanghua Road ↑”, and running desperately toward that direction without hesitation.

“Now that I’ve taught you how to paint this flower, you’ll never have to worry about losing it again.”

Nan Ju set down the brush, her gentle voice carrying a watery tenderness that dispelled the last traces of gloom in Bai Cha’s heart.

“I’ll be right here waiting for you. Whenever you come, I’ll be here.”

“Don’t look back at the past, or dwell on unhappy things. From now on, I’ll be here for everything.”