I’m Allergic to Pheromones - Chapter 51

Cheng Fuxue and Xu Zhuzhi were natural adversaries, yet they unexpectedly harmonized during filming. The two played an on-screen couple with perfect chemistry—no one would have guessed they could fight like elementary school kids if no one mentioned it.

Nan Ju sat beneath a wide sunshade, the wind howling fiercely as rain fell like a broken string of pearls from the umbrella’s edge, splashing onto the ground and dampening the long hem of her butterfly-embroidered skirt.

The weather had changed in an instant.

Her assistant, Nian Gao, had followed along, holding a beige blanket that she draped over Nan Ju’s lap.

“Miss, would you like to head back first? The rain is only going to get heavier.”

Summer in Haicheng was long, and being a coastal city, typhoons were frequent. According to the weather forecast, Typhoon “Homecoming” was set to make landfall in two hours.

The assistant didn’t want Nan Ju caught in the downpour.

“It’s fine. There’s just one shot left.” Nan Ju looked up to see Cheng Fuxue standing by a black car as per the script, bending down with a large black umbrella tilted to shelter the Omega who had slipped and fallen onto the wet road. The stark contrast of black, white, and gray perfectly divided the frame, yet the pair’s striking looks prevented the scene from feeling gloomy, instead radiating warmth.

Filming the commercial during the typhoon had been planned—the director despised artificial rain and industrial fans, deeming them too fake and unnatural, so today had been deliberately chosen.

The typhoon hadn’t fully arrived yet, but the wind was growing fiercer, with scattered showers in some areas. Everyone was rushing to finish before conditions worsened.

Nan Ju ran her fingers over the sharply defined wooden carving in her hand, watching as Cheng Fuxue knelt on one knee in the wet pavement, cupping Xu Zhuzhi’s head for a staged kiss. The tenderness and longing in her profile made Nan Ju sigh inwardly—this money was well spent.

An Yiming truly lived up to his reputation as a top-tier director in the entertainment industry. Even a commercial could evoke the purest romantic vibes—though it had little direct connection to scent-blocking patches.

Nan Ju was just a businesswoman with no understanding of artistic creation, but she had one clever philosophy: anything solvable with money was a trivial matter to her now.

She had personally chosen the spokesmodels, but Director An had been secured purely through financial persuasion.

An Yiming, a heavyweight director known for his unconventional and unpredictable style, was rumored to be arrogant about his talent and indifferent to money.

Nan Ju hadn’t necessarily needed him—her main goal was to leverage his prestige. A renowned director paired with an award-winning actress and a top female idol would maximize the promotion of the scent-blocking patches.

What surprised her was how smoothly the invitation had gone. She had overestimated the pride of an artistic director.

When An Yiming glanced back, this was the scene he saw: his obscenely wealthy patron lifted the white wooden carving in her hands, blew away the fine wood shavings, and held a small carving knife in her other hand. Its sharp blade gleamed coldly in the dim, rainy light.

The woman wore a black-gray dress that covered her forearms, its surface embroidered with golden butterflies poised for flight. Her thick, loosely cascading black hair, striking features, and slightly pursed lips exuded the same restrained, elegant aura of a noble heiress as when they’d first met.

But Nan Ju was different from others. Her beauty was so overwhelming that it carried an innate, unconscious arrogance—like the delicate yet unyielding branches of a flowering quince, whose captivating charm blinded everyone to their true strength.

From the moment they met, An Yiming understood, this was an Omega most Alphas couldn’t control. Or perhaps, Nan Ju was the one who controlled others.

He appreciated all forms of beauty in the world, which was why he had made an exception and agreed to shoot this commercial.

Of course, given his temperament, he had originally planned to refuse. A renowned director stooping to film a small advertisement? Utterly beneath him. But Nan Ju’s offer was simply too generous. His willpower faltered. His soul was corrupted by money. His conscience had been devoured by dogs.

Yet now, An Yiming felt that accepting this project might have been the best decision he’d ever made.

He had seen the most beautiful butterfly in his mind’s eye, so selling out a little of his pride wasn’t so bad.

It was a shame Nan Ju insisted on staying out of the entertainment industry. But on the bright side, perhaps there’d be a chance in the future to persuade the wealthy patron to make a cameo in one of his films?

The relentless rain made even the equipment sluggish. An Yiming scrutinized the footage for a while, nitpicked with a frown, then called “Cut!” and made Cheng Fuxue kneel for a few more takes before finally wrapping up.

The crew, worried about the expensive filming gear, quickly huddled together to move it all indoors before the rain could ruin it. Cheng Fuxue dashed off the moment filming ended—like a drenched but exuberant golden retriever—bounding over to Nan Ju to boast, “How’d I do?”

Nan Ju had just finished carving the last tip of a cat’s ear. The engraving knife twirled deftly between her fingers, flashing a sharp, cold gleam—both beautiful and dangerous—leaving Cheng Fuxue utterly spellbound.

Dazed, she stared at the Omega, who sat in her chair, tilting her head up with a smile, and heard the praise:

“Not bad at all.”

She knew it! She was definitely better than that swaying, singing-and-dancing pretty boy Xu Zhuzhi!

Cheng Fuxue’s competitive spirit spiraled into madness, completely ignoring the fact that Xu Zhuzhi was a top-tier idol whose acting skills couldn’t possibly compare to hers.

Chen Lu watched from the sidelines, her face numb.

Over the past two weeks, she had witnessed Cheng Fuxue’s relentless bids for attention play out countless times. She was long past surprise, fully desensitized.

What could she do? Her artist was a terminal case of beauty obsession—one glance at a pretty face, and her persona crumbled into pure, shameless infatuation.

“Miss Nan, you should head back to the car first. The shoot’s wrapped up, and the typhoon will make things difficult soon.”

The wind howled louder, rain pounding heavily against the umbrellas. Nan Ju nodded, slipping the engraving knife back into her toolkit. Her assistant swiftly gathered the blanket draped over her lap and personally held up an umbrella to escort her to the car.

Though it was just a product advertisement, Nan Ju’s wealth—and her consideration for the crew working in the rain—meant she had already booked a hotel to treat everyone to a meal.

The downpour arrived with a vengeance half an hour after wrap, the accompanying typhoon giving Nan Ju a vivid taste of the coastal city’s tempestuous fury.

The wind howled eerily, its ominous wails sending chills down the spine. The sky darkened as if shrouded in grayish-black smog, not a single glimmer of light visible in any direction. Rain poured down, easily submerging pedestrians’ ankles on the streets.

Nan Ju felt grateful for wearing sandals as her assistant shielded her during their dash from the car to the hotel. Her gaze inadvertently fell upon the tall, straight-backed Cheng Fuxue walking ahead, whose umbrella was being battered by the wind, its ribs flipping inside out.

The celebrity’s hair instantly became a tangled bird’s nest.

“Cheng Fuxue can’t handle this—hide behind Director An!” Nan Ju decisively huddled with her assistant, lowering their umbrellas as they positioned themselves behind the portly An Yiming.

The storm’s fury immediately lessened, much to their delight.

Cheng Fuxue could only watch helplessly as Nan Ju’s skirt flared open in the wind, resembling a golden-winged butterfly taking flight, effortlessly gliding into the hotel.

Meanwhile, she struggled to maintain balance with her umbrella, relying on Chen Lu and another assistant supporting her on either side to avoid being blown away.

Damn it! Another embarrassing moment in front of the beauty!

“Standing tall like a poplar in this typhoon? Lower your head immediately!” Chen Lu scolded while gripping the umbrella, giving Cheng Fuxue’s head a frustrated pat that propelled her into the hotel.

While the storm raged outside, the interior remained comfortably warm.

Xu Zhuzhi had left after filming to return to waiting family members, leaving Cheng Fuxue, Director An, and other crew members enjoying a lively dinner. An Yiming, emboldened by alcohol, tried dragging Nan Ju into the entertainment industry until colleagues pulled him aside to avoid offending their investor.

After several drinks, Nan Ju declined more alcohol—she still needed to fly back to Huashi later.

“You’re returning in this storm? The typhoon might ground flights,” remarked Cheng Fuxue, now dry-clothed and holding a wine glass with dignified composure, her earlier dishevelment completely gone.

Only her skirt’s hem had gotten wet, the lightweight fabric drying quickly after towel-blotting in the warm interior. Still holding the cat-shaped wood carving, Nan Ju gently traced its engraved lines with slender fingers before smiling faintly and shaking her head.

“I promised someone I’d return. If flights are canceled, I’ll drive back.”

“Someone that important? In such terrible weather?”

Nan Ju nodded, her alcohol-flushed cheeks-tinged pink, her damp eye corners resembling butterflies brushed by misty rain.

“Extremely important. I promised never to break my word to her again.”

She’d promised White Tea she’d come home today—whether through storms, hail, or blizzards, she must try.

Otherwise, her little kitten might cry.

Cheng Fuxue pouted resentfully—she felt like crying too. These past two weeks she’d done nothing but seize every opportunity to be near Nan Ju, each encounter making her heart flutter more. None of the Omegas she’d met before could compare.

They weren’t as beautiful as Nan Ju. Mainly, they just weren’t as beautiful as Nan Ju.

“If necessary, I could marry into your family too, like Xu Zhuzhi’s partner,” Cheng Fuxue blurted through gritted teeth.

If Xu Zhuzhi could have an Alpha marry into her household, she wouldn’t lose either—marrying into Nan Ju’s family was perfectly acceptable.

Once the words were spoken, the initial awkwardness and shyness suddenly seemed trivial. Cheng Fuxue’s face flushed crimson as she stared wide-eyed at the astonished Nan Ju, stiffening her neck and stammering, “I-is that not allowed?”

Nan Ju simply smiled at her, her gentle words as soft as the bright blossoms of spring.

“Not really. I don’t like Alphas.”

As the banquet gradually dispersed, Chen Lu kindly handed Cheng Fuxue a bowl of ginger soup, comforting her: “Now you can give up, right? She made herself very clear.”

Cheng Fuxue, who had remained frozen in place since Nan Ju left, stared at the dark brown soup before downing it in one gulp—then stubbornly declared: “But she’s so captivating! I love how she looks at me with such disdain. I’m going to the flower market to chase after her!”

Chen Lu…

This obstinate mutt!

–

The typhoon’s impact was widespread. The flower market had been drizzling since morning, and by evening the rain had intensified, pelting down hard enough to sting when it hit one’s forehead.

Bai Cha walked out of the school gates with her backpack, holding up a rainbow-colored umbrella, and immediately spotted Nan Ju standing beside a Rolls-Royce, dressed in a long skirt and smiling softly.

Amid the roaring storm, she saw the butterfly coming toward her.