I’m Allergic to Pheromones - Chapter 64

Early the next morning, Nan Ju hurried down the stairs with light footsteps to keep her appointment. She had risen early, but someone else was up even earlier.

The midsummer morning was bright. Though it was only seven o’clock, a thin mist settled over the outdoor flowers and grass, leaving dewdrops scattered like jewels. Bai Cha, dressed in her soft yellow duckling pajamas, stood watering the hydrangeas with a watering can.

Along the path in front of the main house, numerous hydrangeas bloomed in vibrant splendor, their colors vivid and lively. A colorful butterfly flitted among them, its wings tracing a graceful arc through the air.

The flowers, the scenery—it all resembled the radiant summer mornings often depicted in Japanese anime. The girl in her thin long-sleeved pajamas, her hair loose, stood there gazing upward, her eyes as tender and hopeful as melting spring water.

“Are you going out, Sister?”

Nan Ju suddenly felt a pang of guilt. She had specifically asked Cheng Fuxue to pick her up early in the morning, hoping to slip away before Bai Cha woke up. But she hadn’t expected the girl to rise even earlier, looking fresh and energetic as she watered the flowers.

Do young people these days not sleep in anymore? Damn it!

Muttering inwardly, Nan Ju tugged at the strap of her small crossbody bag and replied nonchalantly, “Mm. I have a date today, so I won’t be eating at home. You can figure something out for yourself—order takeout if you want.”

A thin stream of water trickled from the spout of the watering can, forming a brief, curved curtain. As Bai Cha raised her wrist slightly, the stream weakened and stretched longer.

Distracted by watching her sister, Bai Cha ended up drenching a purple hydrangea, its petals trembling on the verge of falling.

“A date?”

From a distance, Nan Ju couldn’t quite make out what Bai Cha had said, but she guessed the girl was asking about her plans. Still walking, she called back, “Yeah, I’ll be out all day. Might not even come back tonight.”

She was a 25-year-old adult, after all. It was perfectly normal for adults to stay out all night—no need to report her whereabouts in detail to a kid.

Bai Cha had grown up too. She ought to have her own social circle instead of clinging to Nan Ju. The more Nan Ju thought about it, the more convinced she became. Originally, she had only planned to treat Cheng Fuxue to a meal, but now she figured three meals wouldn’t hurt.

She had plenty of money! A few meals were nothing!

“There’s no one else in the villa. You can invite your friends over if you want.”

“Oh.” Bai Cha’s reply was flat. Her wrist lowered, cutting off the water stream. A few petals in varying shades of purple had already fallen to the ground.

Sometimes, when people have no particular thoughts of their own and someone else deliberately suggests something, their instinct isn’t to comply but to feel displeased.

A rebellious frustration tightened in Bai Cha’s chest. Gnawing at the soft flesh inside her lip, she pressed her mouth into a thin line and watched as Nan Ju approached, about to pass her by. Without thinking, she reached out and grabbed Nan Ju’s wrist.

“Your lipstick smudged.”

“Eh, really?” Nan Ju had been about to pull away, but the words made her pause. Her eyes widened, the corners lifting slightly.

She was dressed rather flamboyantly today—her long hair braided and coiled up to reveal stunning features and a slender neck. The light blue cropped top bared her shoulders and midriff, paired with denim shorts and sandals. The shorts were adorable and very short, with pink ribbons crisscrossed on the sides into two little bows, plump thighs faintly visible through the gaps.

Bai Cha only needed to glance down to see those straight, long legs and fair toes painted pink.

Beautiful, but not dressed for her to admire. Pouts

Holding a small watering can in one hand and gripping Nan Ju’s delicate wrist with the other, Bai Cha paused for a moment before releasing the soft skin. She raised her hand toward the Omega’s lips.

“Don’t move.” Her fingers brushed the corner of Nan Ju’s mouth without smudging the lipstick. Bai Cha tucked her index finger into her palm, expression calm. “There.”

Nan Ju stared at her blankly, feeling an odd tingling at the edge of her lips, as if tiny insects had nibbled there. Unconsciously, she licked and pressed her lips together, completely unaware of how suggestive the gesture was.

Bai Cha tightened her grip on the watering can and urged, “Aren’t you leaving yet, sis? I can hear the car.”

To be precise, she had heard it an hour ago—a black Grand Cherokee parked arrogantly in front of the villa, an Alpha leaning against the door holding a bouquet of red roses. Flashy. Definitely not a good person.

Nan Ju snapped out of her daze, blushing as she nodded hastily. “Mhm. I’m going then.”

The woman’s figure disappeared into the shadows of the lush foliage. Bai Cha, who had been standing there watching the whole time, pressed her thumb against her index finger’s knuckle and silently watered the flowers.

Sis likes flowers. Can’t let them die.

Outside the villa, Cheng Fuxue’s legs had gone numb from standing when she finally saw a familiar figure push the door open and step out.

Nan Ju hadn’t expected her to bring flowers. She descended the steps lightly, surprised. “Have you been waiting long? Didn’t we say seven?”

“Just got here. These are for you.” Cheng Fuxue smiled as she handed over the roses, discreetly flexing her sore wrist.

In truth, she had been posing for over an hour, determined to impress Nan Ju at first glance with her dashing, irresistible charm. The only thing she hadn’t accounted for was how long women took to get ready.

They had agreed to meet at six in the morning for dim sum. Cheng Fuxue had arrived half an hour early, but Nan Ju, having struggled with insomnia, slept in and then spent ages picking an outfit and doing her makeup, delaying them until seven.

June mornings weren’t hot—if anything, they were pleasantly cool—but Cheng Fuxue’s legs were still numb. QwQ

The roses were beautiful and fresh, dewdrops sliding along their petals, their fragrance rich when inhaled. Nan Ju loved flowers and happily cradled them, eyeing Cheng Fuxue skeptically. “You really just got here? You’re not lying to me, are you?”

After a night of chaotic dreams, she had called earlier to postpone their outing, unable to drag herself out of bed. Surely Cheng Fuxue hadn’t been foolish enough to wait outside her door all this time?

Cheng Fuxue’s smile didn’t waver. “I arrived right on time.”

Nan Ju considered the big star’s notoriously lazy habits and relaxed. No matter how much of a looks-obsessed fan she was, she wouldn’t stand outside holding flowers at dawn like a statue—unless the wind had scrambled her brains.

“Then let’s go. I know a really good dim sum place at the flower market—I’ll take you there.”

Cheng Fuxue’s eyes lit up, responding succinctly: “Okay.”

She turned to open the car door for Nan Ju, but her legs betrayed her. If not for gripping the doorframe, she might have collapsed to her knees.

This was probably the consequence of posing dramatically in the wind for over an hour. Cheng Fuxue’s face twisted slightly, her eyes reddening.

Her feet… her feet were completely numb. QAQ

“What’s wrong?” Nan Ju, holding the flowers, didn’t notice her predicament, only sensing the sudden stiffness and finding it odd.

“Nothing. Get in.” Cheng Fuxue gritted her teeth, eyes red, forcing herself through the pins-and-needles pain to open the door properly. She tilted her chin up stubbornly, refusing to let any tears fall.

Nan Ju remained oblivious, assuming she hadn’t fully shaken off her acting persona, and climbed in with a smile.

The red roses swayed gently as they soon arrived at the restaurant.

Nan Ju loved Cantonese dim sum and frequented this place during her free time. With practiced ease, she led them to an elegant private room upstairs.

“The owner here is a good friend of mine. I come often.”

Su Wei was extremely generous—Nan Ju’s meals were always put on tab, never paid for.

The private room was bright and minimalist, with morning glory patterns adorning the tableware, tablecloth, and decor—slender and beautiful.

Cheng Fuxue had arrived in the flower market some time ago, with Nan Ju picking her up at the airport. Somehow, the superstar’s itinerary had been leaked, and fans had cornered her in an emergency exit.

Vaguely recalling the drama Cheng Fuxue was filming, Nan Ju brought it up over dim sum.

“I remember you mentioned playing an undercover role last time? Is it a cop-and-robber film?”

Cheng Fuxue was biting into a soup dumpling, her lips reddened by the hot broth. She gave Nan Ju an odd look.

“No, it’s a Republican-era drama.”

Nan Ju: “Who’s your co-star? Another solo showcase for you?”

“No.” For some reason, Cheng Fuxue responded like a squeeze-activated toy duck, answering reluctantly: “There’s an official love interest—a top-tier opera performer. The crew cast a newcomer for it.”

“A top-tier opera performer?” Nan Ju laughed, propping her chin on her hand with curiosity. “If she’s the best, she must be gorgeous. Do you like her?”

“You’re the most beautiful. None of them compare to you.” Cheng Fuxue didn’t hesitate to elevate Nan Ju while dismissing others, her gaze fixed on Nan Ju’s peerlessly stunning face, her bias and adoration undisguised.

She’d been obsessed with Nan Ju’s face since their first meeting, and the condition had only worsened after time apart.

Nan Ju knew about her extreme weakness for beauty. While many were appearance-driven, few took it to Cheng Fuxue’s level.

Nan Ju didn’t mind such blatant “face appreciation”—in fact, she felt a little proud.

Charming people with one’s looks was its own kind of talent.

“With so many people in the entertainment industry, surely some are prettier than me?” Nan Ju teased.

Cheng Fuxue set down her chopsticks solemnly. “They’re all ugly. So ugly it ruins my appetite and hurts my eyes.”

“You’re the only beautiful one. Just looking at your face makes me eat three extra bowls of rice.”

Nan Ju: “…”

She instinctively glanced around, worried someone might overhear this indiscriminately arrogant remark, sighing inwardly.

The only reason Cheng Fuxue hadn’t been beaten to death over the years must be her sheer resilience—with that mouth of hers, it was a miracle.

Nan Ju asked, “Cheng Fuxue, why did you like me back then? Just because I’m good-looking?”

The superstar nodded without hesitation, “If you’d agree, I’d frame you and hang you above my bed to look at every day.”

Nan Ju fell silent for a moment before softly refusing, “I don’t think that’s a good idea…”

Too creepy—she was a little scared.

A sparrow flew past the window, leaving a faint trace in the air. The thin clouds couldn’t obscure the deep blue sky. Leaning against the window, Nan Ju gazed outside, her heart filled with uncertainty.

If Cheng Fuxue liked her for her face, then why did Bai Cha like her? Was it also because of her looks?