I’m Allergic to Pheromones - Chapter 60

The summer heat was oppressive, with long days and short nights, making people crave coolness and sleep. When Nan Ju struggled out of the blankets, it was already three in the afternoon.

The villa was quiet, devoid of human voices. Through the thick blackout curtains, only faint bird chirps could be heard.

The yard was lush with trees and flowers, often visited by birds lingering on the branches, reluctant to leave.

The air conditioning was set low, and the wooden floor felt cool and pleasant underfoot. Rubbing her eyes, Nan Ju got out of bed and lifted a corner of the curtain—outside, the sunlight was dazzling, the scorching sun blazing.

She squinted and decisively closed the curtain again.

The villa had been empty lately. All the servants had been given a two-month vacation, and the cleaning lady came every morning at seven, leaving right after her work was done.

Apart from Nan Ju, the only other living soul in the villa now was Bai Cha, still asleep in the next room.

This classmate had just finished her high school entrance exams yesterday and was dragged by Nan Xing to a class reunion last night, returning well past two in the morning. Too tired to eat breakfast, she had been sleeping ever since.

Nan Ju had come home even later than her, having made an emergency trip to the airport to pick up Cheng Fuxue. The big celebrity had sneaked into Huashi but was spotted by sharp-eyed fans and cornered in an emergency exit. By the time Nan Ju arrived, she had been squatting there so long she was practically growing mold.

By the time Nan Ju got home, Bai Cha was already asleep. She peeked in but didn’t disturb her.

For students who had just finished exams, nothing could rein them in—except maybe the constitution.

Nan Ju had been working overtime a lot lately, spending long hours at the company. Bai Cha often came home from school only to find dinner without her, leaving the little kitten somewhat gloomy.

That was why Nan Ju had promised that once the exams were over, she’d give the household staff a short vacation so she could spend time with her.

The house was empty, the faint scent of gardenias drifting through the air as Nan Ju descended the stairs, the fragrance growing stronger.

Straight, verdant stems stood in a transparent vase, the petals white and unfurled, the outermost edges tinged with the pale green of the calyx, as if the snowy white had fought its way out from the green.

The flowering season of the quince had ended, but the villa still had other blooms. The gardenias had likely been arranged by the servants before they left.

With no one to disturb her, no one constantly calling out “Young Mistress,” Nan Ju felt a rare sense of ease.

A comfortable freedom enveloped her as she padded barefoot through the spacious, beautiful villa in a loose nightgown, not even bothering with a bra, lazily making her way to the kitchen.

She was hungry. She wanted to cook some congee and rouse the still-sleeping kitten to share a combined breakfast-lunch-dinner.

Nan Ju knew how to cook, and she was decent at it. A simple Cantonese savory congee was no problem. The small, round earthenware pot was just the right size for two servings. The ribs were stewed until tender and flavorful, finished with a sprinkle of scallions and minced ginger—the aroma was irresistible.

The dishes and chopsticks at home were exquisite, rotated seasonally. A small red-and-white bowl with a tiny chip sat on the white countertop.

In the end, Nan Ju chose two round, petal-shaped soup bowls with handles, filled them with congee, and carried them upstairs on a tray.

The greatest joy of staying home is being able to eat chips in bed and bring meals to bed—she wanted Bai Cha to experience this pleasure too.

Bai Cha’s room reflected her personality distinctly—simple, neat, devoid of any girlish charm, with a cool, muted color palette. A desk stood against the wall, lined with books held upright by bookends. A pen holder sat on the desk, with a ballpoint pen resting between the pages of an open book.

Nan Ju gently pushed the door open, placed the tray on the table, and drew back a third of the curtains. The harsh sunlight spilled onto the wooden floor, brightening the entire room.

On the bed, a small lump was curled up under the covers. Nan Ju approached and spotted a few strands of scattered black hair peeking out—soft, wispy, like delicate feathers.

“Little kitten, don’t bury your head under the blankets to sleep,” she chided helplessly, pulling back the covers to correct Bai Cha’s bad habit.

Once the blanket was lifted, the sound of heavy breathing could no longer be concealed. Bai Cha lay there uncomfortably, brows furrowed, eyes tightly shut, her body curled around a pillow with her flushed cheek pressed against it. Strands of hair clung to her neck, stark against her fair skin, which seemed to glow faintly under the light.

She had matured since the last time—no longer carrying the youthful innocence of adolescence, but instead exuding something more complex.

Nan Ju’s breath hitched, sensing something was wrong.

“Bai Cha? Wake up—why is your face so red?” She reached out to touch Bai Cha’s cheek, only to find it burning with feverish heat. Her pajamas were slightly damp with sweat.

Bai Cha’s state was strange. At the slightest touch, she whimpered and shied away, tears welling at the corners of her eyes. She buried her face deeper into the pillow, her hair spilling loose to reveal multiple layers of scent-blocking patches plastered over her scent gland—at least four or five of them.

Nan Ju froze, a sinking feeling in her chest. She tore them off in one swift motion.

Instantly, the overwhelming scent of pheromones flooded the room, hitting Nan Ju like a wave—light as mist, yet clear as water.

The pheromone detector in the room immediately blared a shrill alarm, flashing red in warning.

Nan Ju stood rooted in place, her mind blank.

Bai Cha was in heat.

She must have gone into heat late last night, right after Nan Ju had checked on her and left. She had been enduring it in a daze until now, barely conscious.

Scent-blocking patches could suppress pheromone leakage—even for an Alpha or Omega in heat, as long as the patches remained on the scent gland and they resisted their instincts, they could hide their condition.

But this… shouldn’t have been possible.

An Omega in heat was like a mindless creature, desperate to kneel and beg at an Alpha’s feet. Nan Ju had never imagined scent patches could suppress a heat—they were only a supplementary measure. Yet Bai Cha had done exactly that.

She had layered four or five patches over herself, hiding under the covers and enduring her first heat alone.

Now, looking at her again, Nan Ju thought she seemed as if she had been pulled from some soft, liquid warmth—her entire body pliant, fragile, and utterly vulnerable.

She quickened her pace and reached out to turn off the sensor beeping incessantly on the bedside table. Switching on the light, she noticed three opened placebo syringes discarded in the trash bin by the bed.

These were leftovers from the research institute, originally used to stabilize Bai Cha’s post-differentiation condition but long since unnecessary.

Nan Ju pressed her lips together, recalling the other purpose of these placebos—to soothe unmated Omegas or Alphas still experiencing heat cycles.

The syringes had been uncapped, yet their contents remained untouched. Clearly, someone had changed their mind at the last moment and thrown them away.

Bai Cha despised these placebos laced with synthetic Alpha pheromones. Back when she had no choice but to use them, Nan Ju had always administered the injections for her—Bai Cha wouldn’t even look at them, resisting fiercely.

If caught in an unexpected heat, she’d likely endure until her pheromones exploded rather than touch these placebos.

If only I hadn’t overslept this morning… If only I hadn’t given the household staff extended leave…

Nan Ju sighed deeply, kicked off her slippers, and climbed onto the bed in her nightgown, tentatively reaching out to pull Bai Cha into her arms.

But the moment she touched her, Bai Cha trembled, sobbing pitifully—soft, heart-wrenching cries that refused to be soothed.

Having forced herself through her first heat alone, she now instinctively recoiled from any contact in her dazed state, like a skittish kitten burrowing deeper into the blankets.

Only when the covers were pulled back did Nan Ju see the self-inflicted marks—clawed trails on her wrists and arms, even a deep bite on Bai Cha’s left forearm.

A clever yet self-destructive way to resist her body’s demands: using pain as suppression.

After two failed attempts, Nan Ju didn’t dare try again. Kneeling on the bed, she frowned and called Bai Cha’s name, murmuring “kitten” as layered nightgown folds draped over her slender, snow-pale legs.

At some word, Bai Cha’s lashes fluttered—tears clinging like dewdrops before spilling over, her eyes glazed with moisture.

Without warning, she suddenly lunged forward, clinging to Nan Ju’s neck like an affectionate kitten, nuzzling and whimpering against her, her voice fragile and pleading.

“Jiejie…” The pitiful whimper sent a tremor through Nan Ju. She patted the girl’s quivering back, considering carrying her to the institute—but the moment she moved, Bai Cha resisted.

“Jiejie, help me… please, help me…”

Her voice was soft, her body pliant. Within half a minute of holding her, Nan Ju regretted her decision to forgo a bra with the house empty—because Bai Cha wasn’t wearing one either.

Clutching Nan Ju’s neck, Bai Cha pressed her face blindly against her, somehow burying into the curve of her throat.

When sharp teeth sank into her scent gland, Nan Ju’s entire body went numb—a tingling wave surged from her tailbone to her skull, leaving her utterly undone.

She didn’t know what possessed her then, but by the time she realized it, her hand was already around Bai Cha’s throat, pinning her against the snow-white sheets.

The girl’s pajamas had ridden up during their earlier movements, revealing slender pale legs and a soft, delicate waist. Pressing her lips together, she tugged the fabric back down while listening to Bai Cha crying facedown into the quilt behind her.

The sensor readings spiked again, nearing the dangerous red line. Unable to go to the research institute or administer a sedative, Nan Ju stared darkly at the girl pinned beneath her, her mind buzzing.

“Good thing you came of age a few days ago.” Nan Ju pulled her up, settling her into her lap, fingers brushing the collar of the pajamas, her voice slightly hoarse. “I should’ve arranged for someone to teach you about physiology sooner.”

She wondered if the girl would resent her for this once she woke…

The afternoon sunlight scattered like molten gold, soft and radiant. The quilt tangled with inky black hair and flushed skin as the scents in the room mingled, blending like liquid.

That afternoon, Nan Ju truly saw pink clouds.