I’m Allergic to Pheromones - Chapter 53

April 20th marked the annual Flower Arrangement Festival at Yucai High School.

As soon as Bai Cha stepped through the school gates, she was greeted by waves of rich floral fragrance—freshly delivered flowers had just been unloaded from trucks entering the campus.

Yucai was adorned with flowers everywhere, and next to the swimming pool stood a large greenhouse garden where even some rare and expensive varieties could be found. Occasionally, it was opened for students to admire the blooms.

Of course, the school wouldn’t recklessly allow students to pick the flowers at will, so most of the flowers used during the festival were purchased externally, with only a few provided by the school itself.

Nan Xing followed closely behind, lightly bumping Bai Cha’s shoulder as she asked curiously, “What are you looking at?”

“Nothing,” Bai Cha frowned, uncomfortable with such close contact. She adjusted her backpack strap, subtly putting some distance between them.

Nan Xing remained oblivious, her eyes darting around until she suddenly spotted something she loathed. Grabbing Bai Cha’s sleeve, she hurriedly pulled her aside.

“Quick, quick! Ugh, Ye Man is here again.”

Unable to shake her off, Bai Cha let herself be dragged toward the wire fence near the running track. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed a girl striding briskly in their direction.

She didn’t recognize her.

“Do you owe her money?”

“Bullshit!” Nan Xing snapped, cursing under her breath before immediately regretting it. Pressing her lips together, she muttered an apology and spoke rapidly, “Just ignore her. She’s nothing but a fair-weather friend—clinging to me like a fly when it suits her, but when I took a leave of absence, she wouldn’t even answer my calls.”

Nan Xing had never had many friends or companions. Her poor academic performance and repeated retakes of grades meant few at school wanted to associate with her. Those who did approach her were mostly minor figures hoping to curry favor with the Nan family.

She knew full well that people only stuck around because of her family’s status. Behind her back, who knew how many mocked her for being dim-witted, forever overshadowed by Nan Ju.

The moon’s brilliance was peerless—how could a mere speck of starlight hope to compete?

Nan Ju was an Omega, while she was just a Beta—incomparable from the start in terms of secondary gender. Yet Nan Xing’s resentment festered, egged on by others until she grew to despise her own sister, even stooping to tattling.

Looking back, she realized many of her rebellious acts had been incited by these so-called friends. But when she truly stumbled before Nan Ju, these same people scattered like weeds in the wind, desperate to avoid any association with her.

The thought made Nan Xing’s bl00d boil. Pushing Bai Cha aside, she said stiffly, “Go to class. I’ll handle my own problems.”

The girl’s cheeks puffed up in anger, reminding Bai Cha of an irritated pufferfish—one poke away from exploding. Glancing up, she saw a slender figure in a blue-and-white uniform standing stubbornly in the distance, watching her intently, as if demanding an answer.

She had been avoiding Bai Cong for nearly five days now, but the girl showed no sign of giving up, seizing every chance to cling to her, impossible to shake off.

Bai Cha stared fixedly at her. Two pairs of similarly narrow, pale eyes locked in a standoff—the calm surface of a lake finally disturbed by ripples from a passing breeze.

“Then I’ll take my leave first.”

Nan Xing’s mind was elsewhere. She responded absentmindedly, failing to notice someone quickly following Bai Cha from behind.

After the typhoon passed, the weather grew hotter instead of cooler. Early morning brought neither rain nor wind, the lush tree branches utterly still, the air thick with stifling heat.

Nan Xing’s expression turned icy as she watched Ye Man approach, her mind already racing through a hundred ways to humiliate the girl.

“Xingxing, why have you been ignoring me lately?” The beta girl, as delicate as spring blossoms, complained with affected displeasure, making to link arms as they always had before.

Watching her mannerisms closely, Nan Xing suddenly felt a clarity wash over her—Ye Man had been toying with her like a clown all along, just like the others.

Memories of her days as a parking lot attendant surfaced, bringing a wave of bitterness. She withdrew her arm carelessly. “I’ve been busy studying.”

Ye Man was momentarily speechless, though inwardly she cursed: You brainless idiot could study for twenty years and still never test into a key high school.

Needing information about her cousin Ye Qiushuang, she forced herself to coax Nan Xing: “But you never cared about studying before. Can’t your dad just donate a few buildings to City No.1 High?”

Nan Xing had indeed thought that way once—her family’s wealth and influence as the city’s richest meant she could pick any school without effort. Who would dare oppose them?

But times had changed. If she dared ask her family to buy her a high school spot now, forget whether Father Nan would agree, her sister Nan Ju would probably revoke her student status immediately and assign her to gatekeeping duty.

After all, even Bai Cha had to attend school by day and cram classes at night, earning her place through hard work. How could Nan Xing possibly ask for special treatment?

“The times have changed, my friend,” Nan Xing sighed dramatically.

Her days of getting whatever she wanted were over. Every major life decision now rested in Nan Ju’s hands—if she didn’t study well, she might end up raising pigs after graduation.

Her sister was ruthless enough to do anything.

“You’d better focus on studying too. If I recall, you don’t have local residency status? If you can’t test into City No.1 High, will they send you back to the countryside to feed pigs?”

Ye Man flushed with anger, snapping without thinking: “You’re the one who’ll end up raising pigs!”

Residency was Ye Man’s sorest point. Though she shared the Ye surname, like her cousin Ye Qiushuang, she was an illegitimate child with no proper standing in the family—unluckier still, she’d never even set foot in the Ye mansion, living all these years in rented rooms with her minor father.

Having been close friends, Nan Xing knew Ye Man’s background well—her minor father was a handsome beta from the mountains, a poor scholar who dropped out of the city’s best university to become the Ye family’s second young master’s mistress.

When it came to seniority, Nan Xing would have to address Ye Man’s biological father, Ye Feng, as “Second Uncle.”

He was a philandering Alpha playboy, quite reckless in his youth. Though he mellowed after marriage, his spouse’s infertility gradually led to many scandalous affairs. Nan Xing had overheard the household servants gossiping about this unrestrained Uncle Ye when she was still very young.

Back then, Nan Xing had been naive, believing Ye Man was pitiable. Taking her words at face value, she thought Ye Man and her foolishly deceived stepfather were both victims. But now, Nan Xing no longer saw her that way.

Students from humble backgrounds always struggled to pursue education. If she had managed to get into a top-tier university, why would she stoop to being a mistress? Even if she had been tricked, dropping out was inexcusable—such actions only proved she lacked the integrity expected of a scholar.

A social climber, lured by a taste of privilege, she had eagerly followed someone without realizing Ye Feng was cold-hearted. For over a decade, he had cast Ye Man and her father aside, completely forgetting about them.

Now that Nan Xing saw through people’s true nature, she felt an eerie calm unlike her usual self.

“Ye Man, I’ve always had a question for you—how did you get your admission spot?”

“What?” Ye Man froze, then flared up in anger. “I got in on my own merit! The school waived my tuition. What are you implying, Nan Xing?”

“Nothing much.” Nan Xing rubbed her ears and took a few steps back.

Ye Man’s furious outburst was too loud—her ears were ringing.

The usually gullible and easy-to-fool Nan Xing straightened her posture. Glancing at the now-empty school path, she continued slowly, “But I’ve seen your admission transcript. You had one A.”

Elite schools only accepted straight-A+ students. Ye Man’s grades hadn’t met the standard, and without a local household registration, she shouldn’t have been admitted no matter how close she lived to the school.

“Besides, the top-performing students always went to Class 9. Why did you suddenly fail your exams and get placed in my class when we entered ninth grade? Ye Man, who sent you to get close to me?”

Nan Xing still remembered the first time she met Ye Man. Back then, she was repeating her third year of middle school and had been punished for sleeping in class, forced to stand at the back. Ye Man, sitting in the last row, had quietly slipped her two lemon candies when the teacher wasn’t looking.

Sour—Nan Xing had kept them in her mouth the entire class, her teeth aching from the tartness, but she never spat them out.

She had liked her slightly scheming companion, happy to play the fool. But Ye Man wanted too much, and Nan Xing couldn’t give it.

“Ye Man, did you really think I was just some naive airhead?” Nan Xing pressed her lips together, annoyed. Her now-black hair fluttered in the wind, and in her neatly worn uniform, she truly looked like the model student.

“I won’t hold your lies against you anymore, and I won’t ask who told you about my sister Nan Ju privately calling off the engagement with the Su family. Just don’t come looking for me again.”

“Here, take these back.” Nan Xing pulled two lemon candies wrapped in clear plastic from her pocket and shoved them into Ye Man’s hand. The other girl stood frozen, speechless.

The pure white hem of the school uniform fluttered in the wind as that forever chuunibyou and rebellious idiot repeating student gradually disappeared by the sports field.

The sunlight was blinding. Nan Xing tilted her head back to look, feeling inexplicably gloomy. She instinctively thought: Which idiot said tears wouldn’t fall if you looked up at a 45-degree angle? Her bangs were practically stabbing her eyes blind! Damn it!

—

Behind the swimming pool, outside the transparent greenhouse garden, two people stood facing each other in a silent standoff.

Bai Cha stood beside a rose bush, her gaze lazily resting on the petals, posture relaxed with an air of indifference. Her hair had grown longer than before, tied up messily with a black hairband against school regulations—the ends wispy and curled, looking rather adorable.

Bai Cong stood opposite her, fingers clutching her backpack straps, a soft smile on her face. Her hair was tied higher, long and smooth as it cascaded down her back. The teardrop mole beneath her right eye shimmered brilliantly under the sunlight.

If not for that mole and those overly narrow, naturally cold light-colored eyes, she would have looked every bit the obedient good girl—maybe even the type people would assume was a sweet, high-achieving airhead.

“You… we’ve definitely met before, right?”

The girl’s voice, soft and slightly timid, carried a touch of innocent charm in this overly bright morning.

She was only fourteen—an age as tender and lovely as an unopened flower bud.

Bai Cha brushed her fingertips against the rose petals, instantly damp with cool dew. She lifted her thin eyelids and looked at the sister who shared half her bl00d, asking quietly, “Who gave you that idea?”

She had been abandoned on a desolate, deserted road by that woman at the age of five. Bai Cong had only been two then, too young to remember. After she was gone, that woman would have erased every trace of her from the house. Bai Cong shouldn’t remember her.

Was it because she hadn’t changed her surname?

Two pairs of eyes, their curves strikingly similar, met—one naturally cold and detached, like frost lightly dusting a surface; the other clear and pure, like a lake thawing in spring. Between them, Bai Cong was undoubtedly the more endearing one.

No wonder she was the one thrown away. The thought crossed Bai Cha’s mind, and for some reason, the resentment in her heart lessened slightly.

The slender girl hunched slightly, long lashes lowered, the earlier chill in her gaze receding. Bai Cong couldn’t shake the startling thought: I’ve definitely seen her before.

“Sorry, that was presumptuous of me. I just thought your eyes were really pretty and made up an excuse to talk to you.” Bai Cong, who had never lied before, flushed red as she forced out this excuse, her eyes immediately misting over.

She realized she shouldn’t keep insisting on that “we’ve met before” nonsense—it sounded way too much like blatant harassment.

Bai Cha casually glanced away, her fingers now holding a delicate pink petal—cool, soft, still damp with dew. When she rubbed it between her fingertips, she could feel the fine veins running through it.

Compared to Bai Cha, Bai Cong’s eyes resembled that woman’s more—the same aloof shape, yet always brimming with a tenderness so deep it could drown a person. That delicate, pitiable softness was unbearably charming.

“Tomorrow is Saturday. Would you like to come to my house? I can teach you that last physics problem.” Bai Cong tugged at her backpack straps as she spoke, then quickly added when she realized her tone might have been too forward, “I didn’t mean it like that. I just noticed you didn’t write the answer that day—no, I mean… I really like you.”

Under Bai Cha’s slightly furrowed brows of confusion, the girl with the beautiful teardrop mole looked utterly dejected.

“I don’t know why, but I feel like I really like you. I’ve liked you since the first time we met.”

“Bai Cha, would you like to come to my house tomorrow to do homework together?”

Bai Cha remained silent.

She didn’t know how to respond.

She was the greatest sin, an indelible disgrace, the disobedient child abandoned by her mother.

And Bai Cong—she was too perfect.

From the moment she was born, she had been this sweet, lovable girl with eyes brimming with tender spring water. Bai Cha could easily see traces of that woman in her, which made her feel both suffocated and strangely relieved.

It also made her feel too cruel.

It had been twelve years since she left home, yet she still remembered those strict rules: she had to present as an Omega, score perfect marks on exams, always smile—Mother only liked obedient, well-behaved children…

A sigh that might have been just an illusion dissipated in the wind. Finally, Bai Cha turned to look at Bai Cong, who now stood half a head taller than her, and asked an odd question: “Are you allowed to go out on weekends?”

“I think so,” Bai Cong nodded blankly, not yet understanding the implication.

Bai Cha: “Then you come to my place to do homework. I don’t like visiting other people’s homes.”

Bai Cong!!!

The girl pressed her lips together in barely contained joy. Watching the sparkling, animal-like brightness in her eyes, Bai Cha felt an ominous premonition of karmic retribution.

She owed nothing to anyone in this world—except Bai Cong.

It was all because she’d been too young and foolish back then. Resenting how the adults neglected her, she’d snatched the naming book from Bai Zhu’s hands and gnawed on it a few times. That was how Bai Cong’s name had been decided by pure accident.

If she’d known this would happen, she should have eaten the whole damn book that day!