I’m Allergic to Pheromones - Chapter 48

Flower Market.

Bai Cha stood beside a rose bush, dressed in a simple T-shirt and overalls, her head slightly bowed as half her figure melted into the twilight.

The school buildings stood shoulder to shoulder, their long, broad shadows overlapping in the pond, startling the colorful koi into hiding beneath lotus leaves and sending ripples across the water.

A group of students passed by, laughing and joking, their carefree energy carried on the wind. Bai Cha couldn’t help but glance at them before retreating further into the corner, silent and uneasy.

It was too lively. She was afraid of such unfamiliar crowds, like a stray cat trespassing into human territory, wanting to hide but finding nowhere to go.

“Bai Cong, you took first place in the math Olympiad again—you’re amazing!”

“How does your brain even work? I wish I could have half of it—no, even a quarter would do!”

“Cut it out! No poaching our top student’s luck if you’re not in our class!”

The youthful voices grew louder as they approached. Bai Cha had been looking down at her phone but glanced up to see four or five students in uniforms walking together, boys and girls alike, all fresh-faced and around thirteen or fourteen.

At the center was a slender girl holding a stack of test papers, her delicate features reminiscent of a water lily, her high ponytail catching the sunset glow, turning stray strands into a beautiful gold. She seemed a little shy, pressing her lips together without speaking.

Bai Cha froze at the sight of her.

The group quickly passed under the eaves of the first building. The girl’s ears flushed red from her friends’ praise, and even the teardrop mole beneath her eye seemed to shimmer.

“If you keep messing around, we’ll be late for class.”

“Whoa, then let’s hurry! Next period is the homeroom teacher’s class.”

Youth was like this—reckless and impulsive, thriving on the sharp edges of well-protected confidence, as if they could pluck the clouds from the sky.

Bai Cha’s gaze followed them until the blue-and-white figure was swallowed by the crowd. Her expression remained cold, her eyes indifferent, and only when they were nearly out of sight did she lower her lashes and turn away from the rose trellis.

Bai Cong suddenly felt something and turned to look—but saw nothing.

“What’s wrong, Bai Cong? Forget something?” The students around her stopped, curious as they glanced back.

A soccer ball slammed heavily into the wire fence by the field, rattling the metal before bouncing several times on the ground.

The fleeting thought slipped away, and Bai Cong couldn’t recall why she had turned. It was as if someone had been standing there.

“Nothing. Let’s go.”

They soon disappeared down the tree-lined path toward the second building, their direction completely diverging from Bai Cha’s, never to intersect.

—

“Hey, why’d you come here? I told you to wait by the school building.” Nan Xing had just stepped out of the restroom when she spotted Bai Cha leaning against a pillar in the open-air ground floor, surprised.

Bai Cha was lost in thought and didn’t respond.

Disliking being ignored, Nan Xing puffed her cheeks and stepped onto the stairs in front of her, face to face. “What are you spacing out for?”

A large face suddenly appeared right in front of her. Bai Cha’s eyes widened, and she instinctively raised her hand to strike, only stopping the violent motion at the last second when she recognized who it was. Instead, she grabbed Nan Xing by the collar and yanked her aside.

“You’re blocking my sunlight.”

“Huh?” Nan Xing looked exasperated, wanting to point out that the sun had already dipped below the treetops—what sunlight was there left to block? But when her gaze landed on Bai Cha’s sullen expression, she bit back the retort.

Aunt Pei had said Bai Cha was a newly presented Omega still adjusting to her condition. She shouldn’t take things personally—she needed to be the bigger person!

“Are you constipated? Or not feeling well? You seem in a bad mood—or did you forget your scent patches?”

Bai Cha was standing in the open-air ground floor of the office building, where seven or eight ping pong tables were set up for students and teachers to use during breaks. About a dozen students were playing now, their movements wild as they shouted bizarre noises with each return.

Nan Xing glanced at them, concerned this might affect Bai Cha. She’d heard Omegas were extremely sensitive to external stimuli during presentation.

“You’re the one who’s constipated—you took half an hour in the bathroom earlier.”

Bai Cha’s icy reply showed no gratitude for the concern.

Nan Xing wasn’t particularly patient either—her current tolerance stemmed only from their little arrangement and the strange protective urge that surfaced upon learning Bai Cha was an Omega. But this jab deflated her rare goodwill like a needle-pricked balloon.

She huffed irritably. “If you weren’t an Omega, I wouldn’t bother asking.”

The mention of that word made Bai Cha’s expression darken further, her gaze turning into frozen lake surfaces that refused to thaw even under the warm sunset light.

“My affairs are none of your business.”

“Hey, you—!” Nan Xing’s face flushed red with anger. She glared at Bai Cha’s retreating back before kicking the steps in frustration, only to yelp in pain with teary eyes.

“Ugh, Omegas really aren’t human—they’re petty little demons!”

Nan Ju was one, and now this little Omega Nan Ju adopted too!

Bai Cha walked away briskly, eventually breaking into a run as the weight in her chest drove her to escape the lively school atmosphere.

This place didn’t belong to her. It wasn’t suited for her.

She raced past the admissions office on the first floor, past the wire fences bordering the sports field, and came to a stop when she saw the school gates.

Her phone rang at that moment.

Slightly breathless, she pulled it from her overalls’ chest pocket. The screen displayed two characters: “Nan Ju.”

“Kitten, did you register at school today?”

Across mountains and rivers, Nan Ju’s voice traveled through the receiver, tickling her ears.

Bai Cha couldn’t help touching her earlobe, holding the phone slightly away—yet reluctant to move it too far. She closed her eyes, standing less than fifty meters from the school gates, and answered softly, “Yes. I’m at school right now.”

“Do you like it? The environment at Yucai is quite good. I remember there’s a beautiful pond with colorful koi, and the school is planted with many flowers. Every April during the anniversary celebration, they hold a flower arrangement festival.”

Nan Ju didn’t have time to accompany Bai Cha for school registration, but she made time to thoroughly investigate every aspect of the school. When she described it, it felt as if she were right there beside her.

According to district zoning, Yucai Middle School was the best option available to Bai Cha. Nan Xing had also attended here before taking leave from school. Nan Ju wanted to first transfer the student records, so Bai Cha could take the high school entrance exams in June. She wasn’t the type who thought money could buy her way into getting Bai Cha or Nan Xing into elite high schools—she preferred letting things take their natural course.

Bai Cha should actually be in her third year of high school by age. But due to the welfare home’s poor conditions, delays had left her several years behind her peers. She never cared before, but seeing Nan Ju go through the trouble of hiring tutors and making time every night to tutor her personally, Bai Cha felt she couldn’t continue as she had before.

Failing Nan Ju’s expectations would feel like a crime to her.

If Nan Ju wanted her to attend school, she would go. If Nan Ju wanted her to study hard, she would put in the effort.

“Sister.”

Bai Cha’s voice was almost inaudible, as if she didn’t even know what she wanted to say.

“What is it?”

Nan Ju’s voice remained as gentle and unhurried as always, like a whisper brushing against her ear—subtle yet intoxicating.

Bai Cha, mesmerized, pressed the phone closer, even as the sound made her ears tingle unbearably.

She restrained herself before calling out again, then said, “Nothing. The school is nice. I like it.”

“There’s a small rose arbor next to the teaching building—it’s very pretty. But I didn’t see any crabapple trees. When the flower arrangement festival comes, I’ll make you a bouquet of roses, okay?”

As the setting sun slanted behind the school buildings, Nan Xing and Bai Cha stepped out of the administrative office together. The former had her hands clasped behind her head, loudly grumbling about the dean.

“Old Man Yang is still as grumpy as ever. Even after I came back from leave, he still scolds me. At his age, getting worked up all the time—he’s gonna give himself high bl00d pressure.”

Bai Cha walked silently beside her, holding a brown student ID stamped with the school emblem.

The ID was thin, about the size of her palm. She flipped it open—inside was a small photo of herself, with her class, student number, and name printed below, sealed with a red stamp.

Class 9, Grade 9. Bai Cha. Student No. 202201339.

The black ink was deep and sharp, as if carved by a forceful wind onto the paper.

Closing the ID, Bai Cha looked ahead. The dismissal bell had long since rung, and waves of students in blue-and-white uniforms crowded toward the gates, their youthful energy soaring on the breeze.

For a moment, she felt just like them.

“If you dyed your hair black, he wouldn’t scold you anymore.”

Nan Xing, still muttering about the dean who always gave her trouble, froze for a long moment before realizing Bai Cha had spoken to her.

The chuunibyou girl, who had long stopped being angry, was now happily beaming with sparkling eyes. Shamelessly clinging to Bai Cha’s arm, she said, “I think you’re right. Let’s go get our hair done together tomorrow, okay?”

“Don’t touch me. I’m not going—I need to study,” Bai Cha replied disdainfully, trying to shake off her hand. But Nan Xing stubbornly persisted, insisting on their “salon day trip” tomorrow.

“What’s there to study? You already know everything! Give us mere mortals a chance to survive!”

Bai Cha was filled with regret, her face burning crimson as her eyes welled up with frustration. Surrounded by people, she lacked the thick skin to handle this situation. Tearing herself away from Nan Xing’s clinginess, she dashed forward.

Nan Xing wasn’t about to let her escape. Shouting loudly, she gave chase, completely ignoring the butler’s attempts to intervene. The two of them stormed out of the school gates in their boisterous pursuit.

Bai Cha clutched the phone at her chest, repeatedly apologizing as she weaved through the crowd. In her haste, she vaguely sensed bumping into someone. Turning back for a glance, she saw Nan Xing charging after her like a wild monkey, arms flailing. Without stopping, she bolted straight for the car.

The commotion scattered the crowd. Bai Cong rubbed her bumped shoulder, her gaze following the radiant, short-haired girl with smiling eyes who ran ahead. She stood frozen for a moment.

So dazzling… Had she seen her somewhere before?