I’m Allergic to Pheromones - Chapter 61

The clinking of ice against the glass echoed with a crisp, hard sound, like drifting clouds of memory swirling back into place. The sting at the back of her neck felt all the more vivid and humiliating.

Under the dim bar lights, Nan Ju’s face flushed red, as if scorched by the summer heat—soft and tender, her lashes trembling slightly with unease. “N-no one’s chasing me,” she murmured.

It was just a barely adult Omega who had bitten her, after all. If anything, she hadn’t lost out—Bai Cha was the one who’d suffered more.

The memory of that day, guiding Bai Cha through her physiological needs with her own hands, made Nan Ju’s face burn even hotter. Her eyes shimmered with moisture, radiating an almost painfully innocent purity.

Su Wei gave her a strange look, as if wanting to say something but holding back.

The bar was dim and cool, a place of absurdity and chaos. Someone as aloof and reserved as Su Wei shouldn’t have lingered here, yet here she was, sitting patiently with a glass of warm water, her gaze quietly fixed on another figure steeped in worldly allure.

She watched Ye Qiumian like someone hopelessly infatuated with the mortal world.

As Nan Ju observed this, the heat in her cheeks gradually subsided. A hesitant thought crossed her mind: Could Bai Cha’s recent odd behavior be transference?

During their heat, Omegas would desperately crave an Alpha. But Bai Cha didn’t have anyone she liked, and by sheer coincidence, Nan Ju had ended up soothing her through it. That must be why she’d said something as outrageous as “I like your scent, sister.”

Right?

That had to be it.

Nan Ju mulled it over seriously and soon convinced herself she was right. At the end of the day, both she and Bai Cha were Omegas. Helping each other out in a pinch wasn’t really a big deal, was it?

As for Bai Cha saying she liked her scent—well, that was normal too. Younger sisters often admired older sisters a few years their senior.

Thinking about it this way, she realized she’d been oddly petty, fleeing for days just because of Bai Cha’s confession upon waking.

A pang of guilt struck her. Today was the day high school entrance exam results were released, and she hadn’t even accompanied Bai Cha to school.

She set the glass down with a soft clink. The lingering tartness of lemon on her tongue had turned bitter with time.

“I should go,” Nan Ju suddenly announced, standing up. The faint light cast over her striking features, the bar’s ceiling lamps weaving patterns across her face. Her lashes lowered, the brightness in her eyes slipping through the narrow gaps to land on the bellflowers in the vase.

“Where to?”

Su Wei looked up just in time to catch a fleeting, shallow smile—there and gone in an instant.

Nan Ju: “To pick someone up and take them home.”

Determined, she left abruptly before Ye Qiumian or Ming Lian returned. Su Wei frowned at her hurried retreating figure, a thought surfacing in her mind:

Like a tree sprouting new buds in spring—so impatient.

At Yucai High School, flowers bloomed in abundance. A tall, slender figure approached from the tree-lined path, dressed in white from head to toe. The sharp wind tousled their soft black hair, lifting the hem of their clothes—the youthful vigor of a scholar suddenly soaring with the breeze.

Bai Cha wasn’t carrying a backpack, just holding a folded piece of paper in her hand as she pressed down on her wind-tossed hair, her expression listless and clearly in a bad mood.

The summer heat made her hair grow fast—it had already passed her shoulders, clinging to her neck uncomfortably. If not for wanting to cover her scent gland, she would have cut it long ago.

Her soft fingers brushed lightly over the gland, the delicate skin reacting with a faint, tingling ache. It wasn’t painful, just a shy, expectant throb—as if craving a rougher touch, a bite.

At the thought, a hazy wetness suddenly welled in her calm eyes.

Bai Cha’s expression instantly cooled. She withdrew her fingers, lips downturned, her face dark with displeasure.

Just a simple touch had stirred such intense, shameless thoughts. This body of hers disgusted her. And inevitably, her mind turned to the person who had been deliberately avoiding her these past few days, making her expression even stormier.

“Bai Cha, why are you walking alone?”

A familiar voice called from behind. Bai Cha turned to see a certain Nan-surnamed classmate—who had finally “successfully advanced to high school”—bounding toward her like an overexcited puppy, with a panting Bai Cong trailing behind.

Bai Cha: “…”

One was a terminally chuuni case beyond cure, the other a clingy, delicate hanger-on. She must have committed unforgivable sins in her past life to be stuck with these two.

She stopped under a tree, waiting for them to catch up, her face half-shaded by the dappled light, youthful yet aloof.

High school entrance exam results had to be checked in person at school. Afterward, students would consult their teachers for advice on which schools to apply to—a process similar to college admissions. The first-choice school would be one that matched or slightly exceeded their score, followed by progressively safer options to maximize their chances.

Nan Xing had done surprisingly well this time, living up to Wang Qing’s hair-pulling tutoring sessions and the expensive private tutors her family had hired. The usually chuuni girl was finally triumphant, her pride on full display as she filled out her applications without even needing her mother’s help.

“My scores are good enough for No. 2 High! I put it as my first choice. Bai Cha, you’re going to No. 1 High, right? Our homeroom teacher said you ranked first in the entire city!”

First in the city! Nan Xing couldn’t help but envy her. She could study for three lifetimes and never achieve that. They’d attended the same cram sessions—how could someone’s brain just be built different?

But hey, knowing someone this amazing was pretty cool in itself. She could brag about this for the rest of her life.

She knew the top scorer in the city!

Buffered by her chuuni delusions, Nan Xing felt a surge of vicarious pride and patted Bai Cha’s shoulder approvingly. “That’s our girl! Making us proud!”

If her sister had raised Bai Cha, then she was practically family—no need for formalities. Nan Xing nodded to herself, utterly self-assured.

Lately, Bai Cha had been averse to being touched. She frowned slightly and stepped away, her tone flat. “No. I applied to No. 2 High.”

Nan Xing blinked. “Why?”

“No reason.” Bai Cha’s eyes lowered, her mood visibly dipping as if recalling something unpleasant, but she didn’t elaborate.

No. 1 High School was the city’s key academic institution, the dream destination for every middle school graduate who’d sharpen their pencils to the bone trying to get in. Yet Bai Cha couldn’t care less—she thought it was too far away.

No. 2 High School was conveniently close to the villa, just a fifteen-minute direct bus ride. Even if she had classes every day, she could return home quickly.

She couldn’t bear to leave the people in the villa and had long planned her choice of school. She hadn’t told that person yet, initially filled with joy, but now found it unexpectedly hard to bring up—like a sudden gust scattering petals from a branch, leaving the beauty incomplete.

Bai Cong knew Bai Cha wanted to attend No. 2 High. Today, without her backpack, wearing a knee-length white dress and clutching the thin strap of her purse, she smiled and deftly changed the subject.

“No. 2 High is great too! That way, we can still be together in high school.”

Nan Xing caught on immediately.

“You’re right! Though it’s a shame you’re going to No. 1 High, Congcong. Otherwise, the three of us could stick together, and Bai Cha could introduce you to her old friends.”

Nan Xing knew Tang Ou and Mo Chuiliu, thanks mostly to her shameless persistence in tagging along with Bai Cha a few times until they became familiar.

Bai Cong was the only one who hadn’t met Tang Ou and the others. Her upbringing was strict—she was never allowed out freely during holidays. In fact, most of her time was spent shuttling between school and home.

With Bai Cong’s excellent grades, it was only natural she’d go to No. 1 High. Nan Xing hadn’t even considered otherwise.

“It’s fine, there’ll be chances.” Bai Cong tightened her grip on the strap, her clear eyes blinking slightly, evasive.

Bai Cha glanced at her, lips parting briefly before saying nothing.

The heat was oppressive, and standing under the tree soon became stifling. Nan Xing suggested heading to KFC for some air conditioning.

“It’s Crazy Thursday today—let’s go together.”

Bai Cha wasn’t particularly enthusiastic, but thinking of the empty villa awaiting her, she nodded.

Bai Cong, unwilling and afraid to return home so soon, also agreed. “I’ll go too.”

The three walked toward the school gate, where an ostentatious red Rolls-Royce gleamed under the blazing sun, practically radiating the scent of money.

Bai Cha looked up and abruptly changed her mind. “I’m not going. You two go ahead.”

Nan Xing: “?”

Puzzled, she turned just as the car door opened—long legs emerged first, followed by a black-and-red split skirt and delicate little oranges swaying in the hair.

A breathtakingly beautiful face appeared. Nan Xing swallowed the snarky “Who still wears hairpins these days?” that had been on the tip of her tongue.

She was vulgar, she was ignorant—only a celestial being could pull off such a look.

“Sis, what are you doing here?”

Nan Xing rushed forward first. Bai Cong, having visited the villa before, followed with a greeting.

Nan Ju leaned against the car, one knee slightly bent. “Heading out somewhere fun?”

“Nowhere, just going home,” Bai Cha interjected suddenly, cutting off Nan Xing mid-response. Pouting, Nan Xing was about to retort when a faint meow interrupted.

“Sis, you have a cat in your car?”

“Oh, just a little stray I picked up on the way. Seems to have a bad leg.” Nan Ju straightened up as she spoke, her gaze settling on Bai Cha.

Under that gaze, Bai Cha flexed her fingers, inexplicably feeling her ears grow warm.

“A normal kitten wouldn’t behave like this.” Nan Xing, who had already pressed her face against the car window to observe the cat, spoke with rare seriousness before turning to Nan Ju with conviction. “Sis, this kitten you picked up clearly has issues. If we don’t address it soon, it’ll be too late. I suggest express-delivering it to my place tomorrow… Actually just hand it over directly, give me the house too, I’ll live with the kitten. Also I’m a student with student ID, so throw in twenty thousand yuan while you’re at it.”

Bai Cha: “…”

Bai Cong: “…”

Damn, the sound of her scheming was practically sparking, the calculations so blatant they might as well have slapped them in the face.

Nan Ju couldn’t help but laugh in exasperation. “And you call this having principles?”

Nan Xing nodded shamelessly.

Principles—but only just barely.

“No way. I’m taking it home first. You wouldn’t be able to care for it properly,” Nan Ju firmly refused before turning to Bai Cha. “Since we’re not going anywhere else, should we head home now?”

Her tone was soft as she spoke, the genuine inquiry stirring an inexplicable flicker of hope in Bai Cha’s heart.

Boundless desires, fanned by the wind, blazed within—no end in sight.

“Let’s go.”