I’m Allergic to Pheromones - Chapter 43

A cool breeze carrying the faint scent of begonias swept through the open doors into the banquet hall.

Ye Qiushuang  clenched her teeth so hard her sharp manicured nails dug painfully into her palms, her face as dark as spilled ink. It wasn’t until Wen Qiao beside her pinched her arm that she snapped out of her rage.

Forcing a smile, the metallic taste of bl00d in her mouth, she stepped forward to loop her arm through Nan Ju’s, complaining petulantly, “You’re so late! I thought you weren’t coming.”

Tall and statuesque, Nan Ju looked even more striking in heels and a qipao that accentuated her curves. Yet Ye Qiushuang , utterly oblivious, dragged her along, completely disrupting Nan Ju’s graceful stride.

Nan Ju mirrored her tone, softening her voice coquettishly, “I lost track of time picking shoes at home. Don’t be mad—I brought you a big gift. Let’s go cut the cake first.”

Every eye in the hall was on them. Nan Ju’s smile didn’t waver as she leaned in close, as if sharing a secret with her dear friend. But her whisper was icy:

“Let go. You’re too short—don’t walk with me.”

Ye Qiushuang  stiffened, and Nan Ju effortlessly slipped her arm free. Without another glance at her, Nan Ju nodded to the crowd before swaying toward the corner where Su Wei stood.

No one else heard what Nan Ju had said.

The party was filled with their peers, the oldest being figures like Su Wei—older siblings in their social circle. Everyone knew Nan Ju by reputation but rarely saw the young mistress in person, their gazes flickering toward her with poorly concealed curiosity.

Unbothered, Nan Ju plucked a glass of lemon water from a server’s tray and joined Su Wei.

Dressed in a stark black-and-white suit, Su Wei looked crisp and aloof. Were it not for the orange trumpet vine brooch pinned to her lapel, Nan Ju might have thought she’d just stepped out of a high-level corporate meeting.

Unlike everyone else present, Su Wei had taken over the Su family in her teens—precocious, accomplished, and cold. She’d long since outpaced their generation, which was why no one dared approach her casually.

The Su family crest featured the trumpet vine, a flower often used to symbolize those who lack independence and cling to others to climb higher.

But from what Nan Ju knew, the Su family had adopted it simply because one ancestor missed his deceased mother too much.

“I didn’t think you’d come tonight.”

In her ten-centimeter stilettos, Nan Ju stood slightly taller than Su Wei. She tilted her head, the long earrings at her lobes swaying, catching the light like scattered stardust.

Su Wei hesitated, debating whether to find a seat—being shorter than an Omega felt vaguely embarrassing. But to avoid drawing more attention, she stayed put.

“I had time, so I came.”

Succinct, typical of Su Wei. But the excuse rang hollow.

Nan Ju knew exactly how detached this woman was. Su Wei would never attend just for Ye Qiushuang ‘s birthday. There had to be someone else.

Nan Ju wasn’t narcissistic enough to think this person was herself. She pinched her glass, long eyelashes fluttering as a strange yet oddly plausible figure came to mind.

“Didn’t you say Ye Qiumian would come tonight?”

Sure enough, at the mention of “Ye Qiumian,” the usually taciturn and wealthy CEO showed an uncharacteristic tension in her expression.

Tension?

Finding this extremely amusing, Nan Ju seized the opportunity to probe further: “You seem quite familiar with her?”

Su Wei glanced over indifferently, her pale eyes calm as still water beneath slender eyelids: “Moderately. What were you just saying to Ye Qiushuang?”

Not wanting to press further when Su Wei avoided elaboration, Nan Ju retreated gracefully with a cool tone: “She’s too short. I told her not to drag me around—it ruins my grand entrance.”

Su Wei sighed in resignation. “Must you be so wicked?”

Nan Ju twirled her glass, eyes crinkling with mischievous delight, her smile radiant and sly. “She deserves it.”

After all, Ye Qiushuang had bullied her little kitten.

As they spoke, Ye Qiushuang stood encircled by guests amidst a ring of pastel macaron-colored candles. Her fiancé Wen Qiao stood beside her, gently lighting the candles before tenderly placing a diamond-studded princess tiara on her head: “Happy birthday, Shuangshuang.”

Blushing furiously, Ye Qiushuang cooed her thanks, only for Wen Qiao to whisper suddenly in her ear: “Should we invite Nan Ju to join us?”

Join them? Even standing in the corner, Nan Ju drew countless gazes. If she came over, who would even look at me?

Ye Qiushuang shot her fiancé a glare, gritting her teeth as she hissed through clenched lips: “Don’t think I don’t know what you’re scheming.”

Their eyes met, mutual understanding flashing between them.

Suppressing her anger behind a flawless smile, Ye Qiushuang felt an indescribable disappointment. She’d never taken Wen Qiao seriously, but knowing he had designs on another Omega still ignited her fury.

Instinctively, she scanned the crowd for Xu Zhiyi, but after several fruitless searches, she reluctantly closed her eyes to make a wish amid the guests’ cheers.

When the birthday song began, the banquet hall lights dimmed, leaving only the warm, flickering glow of candles.

Nan Ju, wary of standing too long, excused herself from Su Wei and leaned against a secluded corner.

Amidst the boisterous singing, hardly anyone noticed Nan Ju. She didn’t wait long—counting silently to 29 before footsteps approached from behind. Xu Zhiyi’s voice, deliberately hushed, carried the weight of night wind.

“It’s me.”

Though the corner was dimly lit, Xu Zhiyi found Nan Ju impossible to overlook—a beguiling night-blooming crabapple, exuding irresistible allure.

Standing close behind, her gaze traced the Omega’s slender calves and willowy waist before settling on the scent gland at her neck, voice slightly hoarse.

“I’ve missed you. Could we talk outside?”

The dark-haired beauty lowered her lashes, responding softly, “Alright.”

They slipped out through a side door, making their way to the Ye family’s rear garden.

It was unclear if Xu Zhiyi had planned it, but the garden was utterly silent at this moment, devoid of any human presence. Only the wind rustled through the branches, creating a soft susurrus.

The bright moon hung high in the sky, surrounded by a dazzling array of stars—clear signs that tomorrow would be a fine, sunny day.

Nan Ju chose a wicker swing to sit on, revealing a glimpse of her snow-white calves. She lifted her head, her delicate brows and crimson lips painting the picture of a classical beauty.

“What did you want to tell me?”

Xu Zhiyi had been staring at her in a daze, only snapping back to reality at the sound of her voice. A smile spread across her handsome face as she called out softly, “Little Ju.”

Anyone who didn’t know better might think she was calling a cat.

Nan Ju scoffed inwardly, unmoved by this gentle tactic. She wasn’t some naive seventeen- or eighteen-year-old girl who’d fall for sweet nothings whispered in her ear or a few lines of love poetry.

The original owner of this body might have been a lovesick fool, but she wasn’t.

Yet Xu Zhiyi seemed fully immersed in her own performance, wearing a self-satisfied, foolish expression that made Nan Ju’s stomach churn. She turned her face away, unwilling to look.

“If you have nothing to say, then leave.”

Xu Zhiyi froze for a moment, then laughed instead, her eyes brimming with eager delight.

She really can’t bear to see me go. Omegas really are such hypocritical sluts.

From an angle Nan Ju couldn’t see, Xu Zhiyi’s gaze suddenly turned manic. Her smile remained bright and cheerful, but her eyes brimmed with thick malice.

Had anyone noticed, they would have been terrified.

“I’ve made up my mind—let’s get married.”

Nan Ju, who had been distractedly watching a snail lug its heavy shell up a grapevine leaf, was so startled that her shoe scraped against the ground, nearly causing her to topple off the swing.

She stared in shock at Xu Zhiyi’s unwavering expression, only one thought running through her mind:

“Are you out of your damn mind?”

But Xu Zhiyi wasn’t offended. Instead, she gazed at Nan Ju with a tenderness that bordered on unsettling and began reminiscing: “I was wrong before—I should have agreed to you sooner. I can retire early from the military, and after we’re married, I’ll find a job. Don’t worry, I won’t leave you alone at home anymore. You said you liked white shirts, right? Then we’ll wear matching white shirts for our wedding photos. How does that sound?”

Nan Ju listened, her entire body going numb.

What kind of nonsense is this? She’s clearly angling to be a freeloader, isn’t she? What a scheming Alpha!

Honestly, she suspected Xu Zhiyi wasn’t just into cuckolding—she might also have delusional disorder.

In the brief span of Nan Ju’s silence, the other woman had already decided on names for their future children.

“Stop!” Nan Ju raised a hand to cut off Xu Zhiyi’s pie-in-the-sky fantasies, speaking with utmost sincerity. “You must have misunderstood. I’m not marrying you.”

Xu Zhiyi stiffened, struggling to maintain her smile. Her tone grew strained. “Don’t joke around. Didn’t we agree that once I established myself in the military, we’d get married? Have you changed your mind? Is it because of that Alpha surnamed Su? Is money and status really that important?”

Nan Ju was beginning to feel uneasy.

Her original plan had been to wait for Xu Zhiyi to seek her out, reject her outright, and then expose her perverse kinks to ensure she’d never dare show her face again. But the Xu Zhiyi before her now was… not right.

As she spoke, her eyes reddened, her demeanor growing increasingly frenzied, as if she were under the influence of something.

Even from two meters away, Nan Ju could smell the suffocating stench wafting off her.

Help! Why does Xu Zhiyi’s pheromone smell like durian, cilantro, and stinky noodle soup?!

Nan Ju stood up and backed away, trying to escape the overwhelming odor. But this very movement seemed to provoke Xu Zhiyi, who advanced step by step, attempting to force Nan Ju to comply.

“What’s so bad about being with me? I can give you the happiness you desire most.”

No, you can’t. All you’ll give me is the stench of durian, cilantro, and stinky noodles.

Gritting her teeth, Nan Ju held her breath until her face turned red. She retreated decisively, suddenly remembering the excuse she’d used to brush off Su Wei before. Waving her hands frantically, she refused: “No thanks, I’m allergic to pheromones! We’d never work out.”

Such an obvious lie was clearly meant to mock.

Xu Zhiyi’s eyes darkened, shedding her cheerful facade as she grabbed Nan Ju’s wrist, declaring passionately: “But I love you so much! Wouldn’t it be nice if we got back together like before?”

The moment her wrist was seized, Nan Ju recalled the scene when she first transmigrated into this novel. Old grievances and fresh anger combined, and without thinking, she slapped Xu Zhiyi hard across the face.

“Did you really think your little cuckold fetish was well hidden?”

“Assh0le, I’ve put up with you long enough.”