I’m Allergic to Pheromones - Chapter 55

“The chips are gone. I’m going out to get some.”

Halfway through the movie, Bai Cha left the suddenly quiet screening room. The vibrant colors on the screen flickered briefly before the sound faded again.

Stepping out, she turned on her heel and headed downstairs, knocking on Nan Ju’s door.

The door opened quickly. As expected, the dark-haired Omega in a white dress stood barefoot on the cold floor, smiling at her with an unmistakable teasing glint in her eyes. “What’s wrong? Did you have a fight with your little classmate?”

“No,” Bai Cha replied helplessly. Aware of her own temperament, she never hid it from Nan Ju and openly reached out to embrace her.

The girl had grown taller—once barely reaching her chest, now slightly higher. Nan Ju looked down, feeling the soft strands of Bai Cha’s hair tickle her chin.

A gentle but firm hold encircled her waist. Bai Cha didn’t look up, only nuzzled lightly for a moment before letting go, like a fledgling reluctant to part.

“I missed you a little,” Bai Cha said bluntly.

Though the girl had grown a bit taller, her frame remained slender and delicate. The loose neckline of her T-shirt revealed prominent collarbones—what little softness she had gained before had vanished during her post-differentiation growth spurt.

Nan Ju’s heart ached. She pulled Bai Cha into the room and rummaged through the bedside drawer.

“Found it.” Turning back, she held a sharpened pencil and, as she often did, gently guided Bai Cha against the wall with an air of insistence. “No tiptoeing. Let’s see how much you’ve grown.”

Bai Cha immediately lowered her secretly raised toes. Her jade-like forearm rested by her face, close enough to catch Nan Ju’s faint, sweet scent without leaning in.

It wasn’t the smell of soap—more like her pheromones.

Bai Cha loved it.

She loathed being an Omega yet paradoxically adored Nan Ju. Sometimes, she felt like a hypocrite with no principles.

“I grew taller, right?”

Her voice, still in the throes of adolescence, was soft as drifting clouds. Who knew how it would mature with time?

Nan Ju marked a short line on the wall, eyes brimming with amusement. “Five centimeters taller~”

The difference between a mature woman’s voice and a girl’s was stark. Nan Ju’s tone was always leisurely, laced with a lazy charm, carrying a Southern lilt she couldn’t shake—a habit from her past life, unlike the original character’s sweet, naive voice in the novel, which sounded like a caged bird.

Bai Cha had never told anyone how much she loved listening to Nan Ju speak.

A warm breath brushed her crown, sending tingles down her spine. Flustered, the girl rubbed her ear and tucked back the strands she’d swept behind it.

“Only 22 centimeters left,” she said hopefully, looking up with bubbling joy, like a soda can shaken too many times before popping open.

Nan Ju stood at 178cm tall, like a sturdy and beautiful crabapple tree. Since her differentiation, Bai Cha had been longing to grow taller, and now she had fulfilled that wish—albeit just a little.

Nan Ju was well aware of Bai Cha’s wish. She had even secretly consulted the research institute to see if they could predict post-differentiation height, though the results were better left unmentioned.

“Then let’s add another bottle of milk from now on.” Nan Ju took a few steps back, smiling as she schemed, determined to contribute to Bai Cha’s height growth journey.

Bai Cha…

Her milk intake was already measured in liters. She drank more milk than water every day. At this rate, wouldn’t she just turn into a milk-scented Omega?

After a long silence, Bai Cha couldn’t help but protest weakly, “Sister, no matter how much I drink, my pheromones won’t turn into milk scent…”

Attempting to alter Bai Cha’s pheromone scent by exposure to other fragrances was the research institute’s latest idea.

Pheromone scents could change. Many married individuals would subtly adopt their spouse’s scent as a way to signal they were “taken.” Alphas, in particular, loved thoroughly marking their Omega partners with their own scent, openly using pheromones to intimidate and warn others to stay away.

But Bai Cha was still a minor, and her constitution was special. Nan Ju would never agree to finding her an Alpha for experimentation, so they had to resort to methods that sounded rather unreliable.

Nan Ju feigned surprise. “Oh, really? Then next time, let’s switch the essential oils and body wash to peach scent. I like the smell of peaches.”

Bai Cha…

She felt an inexplicable frustration, but the moment she met Nan Ju’s smiling eyes, her irritation melted away.

The other woman had noticed her unusual mood today and was deliberately teasing her.

A complicated feeling welled up inside her, but she nodded in agreement. “Fine.”

Nan Ju couldn’t help but laugh.

She placed the pencil on the small shelf by the wall, pulled back the blackout curtains blocking the sunlight, then drew open the outermost layer of lace-white sheers. The room was instantly flooded with bright light.

“From now on, you can bring your favorite classmates over more often. Xia Duo had the kitchen prepare some desserts—go down and get them.”

Bai Cha pressed her lips together, hesitating for a moment before admitting she still couldn’t get used to the word “favorite” coming from Nan Ju’s mouth.

The kind of “favorite” she wanted to hear wasn’t the one being used in this context.

“She’s not my favorite classmate.”

Nan Ju: “?”

She stood by the window, while Bai Cha stood beside the white wall, where three black horizontal lines were marked—the bottom two spaced closely together.

In that brief moment of eye contact, Nan Ju suddenly felt something shift.

Her little kitten had grown taller, her hair longer. After passing through differentiation, that proud, stubborn child seemed to have stepped through the cold winds and stood before her once more.

Bai Cha had always been sensitive and exceptionally sharp. Perhaps Nan Ju shouldn’t have been so blatantly curious about the little guest visiting today.

Feeling her thoughts laid bare, Nan Ju fell silent for a moment before cutting straight to the point.

“Bai Cha, that classmate you brought home… her eyes look a lot like yours.”

Anyone who wasn’t blind and paid a little attention would notice how similar Bai Cong’s eyes were to Bai Cha’s—especially when the former lowered her lashes with that restrained, slightly timid expression. The thin, elongated shape of their eyelids and the lines defining their narrow eyes were nearly identical.

Such strikingly similar eye shapes rarely occurred unless through heredity.

Bai Cong had a soft, delicate beauty, while Bai Cha’s features were cold and aloof. At first glance, their appearances seemed completely unrelated. Moreover, the alluring teardrop mole beneath Bai Cong’s right eye inevitably drew attention, making it easy to overlook their resemblance.

Nan Ju frowned in thought before blurting out, “I should have just adopted you from the start.”

Had she adopted Bai Cha directly back then, she wouldn’t be in this dilemma now, constantly worrying that someone might suddenly show up to reclaim her little kitten.

The speaker might not have meant much by it, but the listener took it to heart.

Bai Cha’s heart clenched, her expression tinged with anxiety. “Do you regret having me now?”

Lately, she rarely called Nan Ju “sister” to her face, as if some inexplicable teenage rebellion had taken hold—a stubborn insistence that she was almost grown and shouldn’t cling to childish affection.

Hearing that soft “sister” today, Nan Ju felt both amused and exasperated by how difficult it was to handle a growing child. She teased lightly,

“Finally remembered to call me ‘sister’ today?”

Tilting her head with a smile, she fiddled with the curtain tie, sunlight spilling over her. Her cheeks held a healthy flush, delicate as the pink roses Bai Cha had carefully tended to earlier—so beautiful that Bai Cha hardly dared touch her.

Her heart melted with tenderness, guilt, and unease.

Shifting her feet, Bai Cha stepped forward and took the curtain tie from Nan Ju’s hands. Looping one end around the fabric, she tucked the remaining tassel in and pulled tight, gathering the soft material together.

The long curtain tails draped down, casting two shadows—one long, one short—onto the wooden floor, their closeness undeniable.

“I know who she is,” Bai Cha murmured, staring at their shadows, too nervous to meet Nan Ju’s sunlit face, now even more radiant. But afraid Nan Ju might truly be upset, she reached out and hooked her pinky around the other’s, giving it a gentle tug. “Don’t worry, sister. I want to handle this myself.”

This had nothing to do with Nan Ju. She refused to drag her into that murky darkness or let even a speck of dirt stain the hem of Nan Ju’s white dress.

This shadow belonged to her alone. She wanted to walk out of it herself—to leave her past behind forever.

Could Nan Ju sternly refuse? No, she couldn’t.

Who could resist a kitten’s pleading? Certainly not her.

All the admonishments and reasoning she had prepared were scattered by that little tug. Dazed by Bai Cha’s coaxing, Nan Ju gave in without thinking.

“Fine, fine. I won’t interfere, alright?”

And just like that, the topic of Bai Cong ended with Bai Cha’s pinky-hooking trick. As the kitchen finished preparations, Nan Ju accompanied her downstairs to fetch the meal.

“I’ve never been to the screening room. What movie did you watch? Was it good?”

“It’s not very good.” Bai Cha hugged a large bag filled with unhealthy snacks like chips and soda. She frowned, puffing her cheeks slightly, and said helplessly, “She picked a children’s cartoon—it’s too childish for my taste. I wanted to watch a horror movie. Could you spare some time to watch it with me, sis?”

Nan Ju…

For some reason, her footsteps suddenly felt much heavier.

Realizing there had been silence after her request, Bai Cha turned her head in confusion. “Sis?”

“We can watch it.” Nan Ju’s voice sounded slightly strained as she carried a tray of dessert cakes steadily up to the third floor. “But your exams are in less than two months. Let’s wait until after you finish them.”

A responsible adult should believe in science and reject superstition, right?

Ghosts don’t exist in this world!

Bai Cha lagged a step behind, watching helplessly as her sister walked away gracefully with the tray. Her lips moved slightly before falling silent.

Sis… the screening room is the other way.