I’m Allergic to Pheromones - Chapter 50

“Mmm… kitten?”

Nan Ju fumbled for her phone under the blankets, her eyes still closed as she mumbled Bai Cha’s name drowsily.

Ever since that incident, her phone had never been turned off or set to silent mode again—no matter when Bai Cha wanted to call, the line would always connect.

On the other end of the line, Bai Cha couldn’t help but blush.

She could hear Nan Ju’s soft, sticky voice, sweet and languid, unconsciously carrying a hint of coquettishness—like someone rolling into a cloud, wrapped in layers of fluff.

So sweet it was almost cloying.

“Sister.” Bai Cha pressed her tongue against her teeth and called out gently.

The receiver was filled with faint rustling sounds, as if someone was tangled in the blankets, struggling to get out. Occasionally, she could hear Nan Ju’s dissatisfied, drowsy murmurs, like a spoiled child whining.

“Mmm~”

Bai Cha’s breath hitched for a moment. Listening to that lingering, tender response, she suddenly felt as if she, too, had sunk into a cloud of sweetness. Her heart grew light and soft, and she couldn’t resist calling out again.

“Sister.”

But the call was abruptly disconnected. Bai Cha froze, wondering if her filthy little thoughts had been discovered, instantly filled with regret.

Biting her lips until they turned a vivid red, she stewed in frustration—until her phone suddenly lit up. Without even looking properly, she answered, only to be met with Nan Ju’s enlarged sleeping face on the screen.

Still half-asleep, Nan Ju lay buried in a pile of white blankets, her long hair cascading over her back. The corners of her eyes were damp and flushed, her cheeks and lips a lovely shade of pink. Her half-lidded eyes were hazy with sleep, glistening like misty water.

“Good morning, kitten,” she mumbled, her voice thick with drowsiness.

All of Bai Cha’s embarrassment vanished in an instant, replaced only by the thought that she shouldn’t have called so early.

“Sorry, I didn’t know you were still asleep.”

Truthfully, she had known—but she had missed Nan Ju too much and couldn’t resist making the call.

Nan Ju buried her face in the blankets, letting out a soft sound—like laughter, or perhaps an indistinct sigh. Either way, it sounded like a sweet, whimpering whine.

Bai Cha stared deeply at her through the screen, her heart sprouting tender spring leaves, tickled into a tingling itch.

She remembered the first time she had seen Nan Ju—tall, stunning, her skin and bones carved like jade, always walking with her chin slightly raised, aloof and proud. Back then, Bai Cha had thought Nan Ju was an impossibly beautiful Alpha.

Later, when she learned Nan Ju was actually the most renowned Omega in the flower district, Bai Cha sometimes still found it hard to believe.

Nan Ju was like an Omega, yet not like one at all. She had the delicate frame and striking beauty innate to Omegas, but her personality was anything but soft—if anything, she was domineering and strong-willed.

Bai Cha didn’t blink as she watched the woman on the screen, and Nan Ju gazed back at her with half-lidded eyes, her gaze misty and tender, filled with liquid warmth. Looking at her, Bai Cha felt as if she could drown in that haze at any moment.

“Someone sent an invitation to the house—signed by Ye Qiumian. Sister Xia Duo asked me to check if you wanted to send a reply to the Ye family.”

The Ye family had a new head, Ye Qiumian, a female Beta. The news about the second young miss Ye’s birthday banquet, which had dominated the newspaper pages recently, had long vanished without a trace like the wind. Bai Cha overheard the villa servants gossiping about how Ye Qiushuang had apparently suffered great humiliation at the banquet, having her authority snatched away by her long-absent elder sister who then drove her out.

Without needing to ask further, Bai Cha could guess Nan Ju’s hand in this. She didn’t completely flatter herself into thinking it was because of her complaint, but she still felt somewhat happy inside.

It was precisely because of this uncontrollable happiness that she couldn’t resist making this call so early.

For a moment, Bai Cha forgot what she originally wanted to say. She just gazed at the person on the screen, randomly bringing up a topic—clumsy and a bit silly.

“Hmm, Ye Qiumian?” Nan Ju rubbed her face against the blanket, forcing her eyes open. “No need to reply. I’ll tell Su Wei later. Anyway, those two are together.”

Bai Cha didn’t catch the latter part but heard “Su Wei” clearly, instinctively pursing her lips.

Just two days apart, and Nan Ju’s mouth was already filled with so many new names—Su Wei, Ye Qiumian, and two celebrities who got into a fight on a variety show the day before yesterday. All talented and good-looking—how she envied them!

If only she were an adult, she could stay by Nan Ju’s side all the time. But she’d also promised to study hard and get into a good university. So conflicted.

Sulking, Bai Cha stewed in her own frustration before deciding it wasn’t good and said, “When are you coming back, sis? The doctor came for my checkup today and said I’ve grown taller!”

“Taller?” Nan Ju rubbed her eyes, still groggy, but a smile already lit up her features. “How much?”

Bai Cha: “One centimeter…”

Her face flushed crimson, almost matching the blooming crabapple flowers on the branches.

Nan Ju chuckled softly, her voice like a babbling brook in March, so cheerful it evoked images of a radiant spring day.

“That’s great. I’ll bring you a gift when I return next week. Today’s your school registration, right?”

Bai Cha: “Mhm, I’m about to leave.”

Golden morning light spilled over the garden walls, illuminating the lush crabapple trees in full bloom, their blossoms like rosy clouds. Hanging up, Bai Cha looked up to see a sea of flowers. Nan Xing, clutching her backpack straps, was being chased by Eight Million as she hurried out of the main building, yelling, “We’re gonna be late, we’re gonna be late!”

Bai Cha…

You wouldn’t be late if you didn’t oversleep.

Uncle Wang’s driving skills were top-notch, and the two arrived at school just in time, narrowly avoiding being late on the first day.

Nan Xing: “I’m in Class 1, you’re in Class 9—a floor apart. Let me take you to the admin office to get your books first.”

Bai Cha: “I can go myself. Don’t you have class?”

“Morning reading doesn’t matter.” Nan Xing waved dismissively, clearly no stranger to skipping it. She fished out a meal card from her pocket and handed it to Bai Cha. “Here, you can use this at the canteen or water station. Yours probably has no money yet. I’ll take you to top it up after school.”

Nan Ju had already arranged it—Nan Xing was to look after Bai Cha at school, earning 50 bucks allowance each time. To Nan Xing, this gig seemed like easy money, so her attitude was thoroughly professional.

“No need, my sister said she had Aunt Pei top up my meal card.” After speaking, Bai Cha looked at the girl before her who had dyed her hair back to black and couldn’t help adding, “Why do I feel like your expression always seems a bit sneaky?”

“You’re seeing things!”

Nan Xing quickly denied it, then suddenly realized something was off: “Did my sister give you any pocket money?”

With only 50 yuan a week for herself, she’d be indignant if Bai Cha got more!

Bai Cha shook her head: “No.”

Nan Xing immediately looked satisfied, bubbles of joy rising in her heart: The treatment of a real sister is just different.

Before she could revel in her triumph for long, Bai Cha added, “But she deposited fifty thousand into my meal card.”

Apart from funds necessary for living and studying, Bai Cha wouldn’t casually take money from Nan Ju. This was also related to the agreement she had actively requested to sign initially.

Before graduating from university, all expenses Bai Cha incurred from her creditor (Nan Ju) would be repaid double in the future. If unable to repay, the debtor (Bai Cha) would have to sell herself to the creditor (Nan Ju).

Initially, Nan Ju only demanded equivalent repayment, but Bai Cha herself disagreed and insisted on changing it to double. It wasn’t that she didn’t trust Nan Ju—she simply couldn’t bring herself to trust kindness that asked for nothing in return. This was a bad habit Bai Cha couldn’t shake off after over a decade.

If she couldn’t repay, she’d have to serve as Nan Ju’s lifelong maid in the villa—the kind with no days off and no salary.

Nan Xing didn’t know about this agreement. Hearing Bai Cha’s words, she froze, then her eyes reddened with grievance.

“I only get 50 yuan a week in pocket money—why do you get fifty thousand???”

Bai Cha fell silent.

How would she know?

Before she could explain, Nan Xing tearfully snatched back the meal card, throwing a tantrum with full justification: “I’m going to morning reading class now! Go get your books yourself, hmph!”

Bai Cha watched speechlessly as she ran off, wanting to say: You’re going the wrong way.

In the end, Bai Cha went alone to the academic office to collect her new textbooks, then found her new classroom.

The petite girl in blue-and-white school uniform stood at the doorway holding a stack of books, her delicate features cool and detached. The light cast a long shadow across the classroom.

The chorus of reading voices gradually died down as everyone turned to look at the girl standing abruptly at the door.

Bai Cha scanned the room but didn’t see any teacher present. Her gaze shifted and locked eyes with the female student standing at the podium leading the reading session.

Two pairs of beautifully shaped, strikingly similar eyes both rippled with faint waves.

Bai Cong’s heart inexplicably skipped a beat. Clutching the textbook, she stammered, “Classmate, who—who are you looking for? Our homeroom teacher just stepped out.”

“I’m the transfer student reporting today.” Bai Cha avoided her gaze, lowering her eyes slightly before hesitantly adding, “My name is Bai Cha.”

–

Haicheng.

Nan Ju left the hotel and arrived at the scheduled advertising shoot location. In the spacious waiting room, two women of similar height stood facing each other, the tense atmosphere ready to ignite at any moment.

Cheng Fuxue, never one to stay quiet, struck first: “If it isn’t Teacher Xu. Long time no see—your hairline’s climbed even higher.” Heh, can’t compare to Teacher Cheng’s weathered experience.” Those dark circles could rival the national treasure, couldn’t they?”

Nan Ju watched with keen interest, making a gesture to the staff who had noticed her arrival to stay quiet. She stood by the doorway, enjoying the spectacle of two beauties quarreling.

Naturally, Nan Ju recognized Cheng Fuxue. The other woman, a fiery beauty with voluminous black waves and striking red lips, must be Xu Zhuzhi, whom Su Wei had mentioned before.

A little chili pepper Omega—definitely spicy enough.

Nan Ju rubbed her slightly itchy nose and was about to clear her throat when Cheng Fuxue spotted her.

“Miss Nan!”

Everyone turned to look at their generous sponsor.

Half an hour later, after listening to the new requests from the two spokesmodels, Nan Ju’s expression turned odd. “Of course, the kissing scene can be faked—just make sure the audience can’t tell. But wait, you actually got married?”

The hot-tempered Xu Zhuzhi nodded without a trace of embarrassment. “Just registered last week.”

Cheng Fuxue had been stunned into silence until now. Finally snapping out of it, she widened her eyes in disbelief. “How could any Alpha possibly be willing to marry you? No, scratch that—which Alpha is blind enough to marry you?”

Xu Zhuzhi ignored her completely and continued showing off. “She’s pretty cute—177 cm, oval face with doe eyes, long legs, plays the piano, and likes quiet places.”

“And how could she possibly like you?” Cheng Fuxue retorted, her face screaming, I don’t believe you, you must be making this up.

Xu Zhuzhi shot her a glare, then pulled out the marriage certificate from her bag and flashed it coldly. “Shut it, single dog.”

Nan Ju listened with great interest, then glanced at the perfectly matched couple on the red certificate. Unable to resist, she cupped her face and asked, “So, does she have any flaws?”

Flaws?

Well, she was too clingy. Watching a horror movie would have her sniffling and burrowing into her arms, and if told to shut up, she’d sulk in the corner, whimpering and apologizing, “Wifey, I’m sorry, I’ll keep it down.”

But she couldn’t say that—it’d completely ruin Liu Suisui’s dignity.

After a moment’s thought, Xu Zhuzhi decided to polish her nominal spouse’s image a little and replied, “No real flaws. She’s just… emotionally expressive.”

Cheng Fuxue was grinding her teeth in envy.

She was furious. How could someone as violent as Xu Zhuzhi find a partner while she couldn’t?