I’m Allergic to Pheromones - Chapter 9

The moon hung over the willow branches as Nan Ju stood alone under the eaves, the sound of wind rustling through the flower-laden courtyard, scattering damp petals across the ground.

March was always rainy, the air chilled by wind and rain, yet the crabapple blossoms remained undefeated, adorning the branches in full bloom.

A brightly colored head suddenly popped out from behind a low shrub, glancing around warily before locking eyes with Nan Ju’s meaningful gaze—promptly startling and jumping out in alarm.

“What did the old man tell you?”

Nan Ju regarded her calmly, her slender figure standing tall and elegant like a beautiful crabapple tree.

“Is this how you talk to your sister after not seeing me for so long?”

For no apparent reason, Nan Xing felt a chill run down the back of her neck, instinctively shrinking before remembering that the person in front of her was just Nan Ju—not the dean of students, nor her own father.

Just an Omega—what was there to fear?

“You’re not even my real sister!” The girl stiffened her neck defiantly, tilting her chin up in an attempt to look down on Nan Ju, though her eyes kept flickering toward her. “What’s the point of an Omega being so tall?”

She muttered resentfully under her breath before recklessly raising her voice again: “The old man’s shares are all mine—don’t even think about taking them!”

“Is that all you want? No wonder you’re being used as someone else’s pawn.”

Nan Xing’s mouth fell open as she stared up at Nan Ju, who stood on the steps above her, lightly smoothing her hair with a cold, dazzling laugh—so breathtaking it made her seethe with envy.

That was the look—the one that seemed to look down on everyone, the mocking smile that couldn’t even be properly described in novels: three parts derision, three parts indifference, and four parts nonchalance. The kind of smile that couldn’t be pulled off without billions to back it up.

If she had that much money, she wouldn’t get slapped for smirking like that.

“I—I don’t understand what you’re saying.” Nan Xing guiltily lowered her eyes, looking everywhere but at Nan Ju. “Anyway, I’m telling you—I’ll be taking over the family’s power. You’d better behave and not cause trouble.”

Brat.

She probably thought she was being so cool right now.

The sharp click of high heels echoed on the steps as Nan Ju walked down to her sister, who was a full head shorter, and grabbed her by the collar—lifting her slightly.

“Dad already gave me half the family shares. I don’t care who told you about my broken engagement, but stop smirking in my face from now on, got it, brat?”

The sheer dominance of an older sister—truly terrifying.

Nan Xing was stunned, fear and disbelief warring inside her as she stammered, “I—I don’t believe you! I’m going to ask Dad!”

Nan Ju sneered and let go, letting her drop unceremoniously.

“Oh, I forgot to mention—since you’ve spent three years in ninth grade and still haven’t gotten into a top high school, the family won’t be buying you an admission spot anymore. You’re on your own from now on.”

Watching her sister’s devastated expression, Nan Ju cheerfully brushed nonexistent dust off her shoulder. “Don’t worry—if you really can’t pass, you can always work at one of the family’s factories. I won’t treat you badly.”

Nan Xing’s lips trembled, tears streaming down her face as she covered her mouth and ran off sobbing.

Left alone, Nan Ju sighed regretfully. “I wasn’t even done yet.”

Nan Ju didn’t stay overnight at the main house. After dealing with Nan Xing, she dismissed the driver and took the Rolls-Royce out for a spin.

—

The night was deep, and a red sports car roared down the highway, swift as a bolt of lightning.

The stunning beauty behind the wheel was cold as ice, pressing the accelerator to the floor. The engine growled furiously as the car skidded along the guardrail, drifting around the bend. The hazy silhouette of the distant mountaintop soon shrank to a mere speck in the rearview mirror.

Nan Ju pulled over by a riverside road and stepped out of the car. The moonlight was thin, and the river breeze carried an endless chill.

Unfamiliar with the flower market, she found the area somewhat desolate and remote. A row of willow trees lined the riverbank, and from the roadside, she could see the calm surface of the water. It soothed, if only slightly, the frustration lodged in her chest.

Nan Ju felt stifled and aggrieved.

The latent gender discrimination in this world made her deeply uncomfortable. Omegas were placed on a pedestal—legally granted the same freedoms and rights as everyone else—yet all Alphas seemed intent on locking pretty Omegas away at home to bear children.

To Alphas, Omegas were fragile blossoms—delicate, helpless, and in need of protection. Yet beneath that instinctive guardianship lurked a condescending, domineering contempt.

The three-gender hierarchy of ABO mirrored a wolf pack’s social structure: Alpha wolves ruled with brute strength, Omega wolves were deemed weak, and Beta wolves toiled silently in the background. Alphas held supreme dominance and reproductive rights over the lower ranks.

But in the wild, Alpha wolves only mated with other Alphas. In this ABO yuri novel, however, Alphas almost exclusively pursued Omegas for romance and offspring, leaving Betas as marginalized bystanders.

All of this was because of pheromones—a narrative tool far too convenient, perfectly suited for steamy scenes.

The extreme contrast between Alphas and Omegas created intense sexual tension, making for mindless, indulgent entertainment. While reading, Nan Ju had even gotten excited, biting her bedsheet with reddened eyes and begging for “more, more!”

But actually transmigrating into this world? Far less enjoyable.

This society was even more savage than the animal kingdom.

As a staunch successor of socialist values, Nan Ju felt profoundly wronged.

“At least I don’t go into heat,” she muttered under her breath, squatting inelegantly by the roadside, her silhouette lonely.

No one would pass by here, and no one would witness the Flower Market’s top heiress sulking on the curb. By tomorrow, she’d still be the glamorous, wealthy socialite she always was.

Nowadays, only money could barely soothe her world-weary heart.

Nan Ju sighed gloomily, thinking: From today onward, I’ll be the goddess of reckless spending.

The snap of a twig underfoot cut sharply through the silent night. Nan Ju turned sharply. “Who’s there?”

She stood, trying to maintain her dignity in front of a stranger, but her knees—aching and numb from squatting too long—betrayed her. She staggered, sniffed back unshed tears, and steadied herself.

From behind the willow trees along the bank, a slender figure emerged—a familiar face.

Nan Ju’s eyes widened as she took in the girl standing across from her. Oversized shorts, tattered cloth shoes, and shoulder-length hair sticking out in unruly tufts. The only change was the long white button-up she wore today, covering her arms.

Yet the clothes still didn’t fit properly—loose and oversized, with sleeves rolled up several times. The wind blew right through the empty fabric, making the hem flutter like a kitten hiding inside a shirt, desperately trying to hold it down with its paws, looking utterly pitiful.

The last time they had parted, it hadn’t been too late. The stubborn little girl had refused to say much, and Nan Ju had assumed she was just a runaway after some family quarrel. But now it was past one in the morning—far too unusual for a child to still be wandering outside at this hour.

Whatever the reason, Nan Ju wasn’t about to let this kid roam by the river alone.

She crooked a finger, beckoning the girl over while leaning against the car hood. After a moment, she realized the position was making her legs ache, so with a push, she hopped up to sit on the hood instead, her wide skirt draping down in soft folds.

Bai Cha stood at a distance, watching the Alpha—who was prettier than any Omega—gesture for her to come closer. She hesitated.

She had snuck out tonight and still needed to climb back over the wall later. If anyone noticed she was missing, it would mean trouble.

She didn’t want a repeat of last time—getting her palms whipped and locked in a dark room as punishment.

Bai Cha really wanted to ignore the woman and walk away. But then she remembered the jacket Nan Ju had tossed her last time, and the box of fried noodles piled high with untouched meat. After a long internal struggle, she finally approached.

“What do you want?”

Nan Ju couldn’t help but laugh.

The kid’s attempt at acting mature was adorable—her tone icy, her little face all scrunched up, as if that could scare off any ill-intentioned adult.

“We’ve already met, you know. You’re so cold.”

At this distance, Nan Ju finally saw what the girl had been carefully cradling in her sleeve.

A slightly wilted red rose, still damp with dew.

“Did you sneak out to sell flowers?”

That was the only explanation for why a kid would still be out this late.

Bai Cha’s expression instantly turned guarded. She hugged the flower tighter and took a step back, lips pressed together in silent defiance.

“I used to sell flowers too when I was little,” Nan Ju said lazily, swinging her legs from her perch on the hood. A smug grin spread across her face. “I was prettier than everyone else, so I sold the most.”

An Alpha selling flowers?

Bai Cha found the idea absurd. But seeing Nan Ju’s cheerful expression, she couldn’t bring herself to argue. She stayed quiet, though some of her wariness faded.

Nan Ju reached out and tilted her chin up.

“Give it here.”

“What?”

“This rose. I’ll take it.”

Bai Cha blinked in surprise. After some urging, she reluctantly handed it over.

Slender fingers curled around the stem as the dark-haired beauty lowered her head to sniff the flower, long lashes casting shadows over her faint smile.

She was more beautiful than the red rose itself.

Bai Cha’s face flushed instantly, a pang of regret suddenly rising in her chest. She shouldn’t have given this leftover, imperfect rose to someone like Nan Ju.

This flower wasn’t worthy of her.

“There’s cash in the car—in the storage compartment next to the seat. Go get it yourself.”

“I don’t want your money.”

The girl’s voice still carried a childish edge, but her tone was sharp with anger. She stood there stubbornly, face turned away in a huff. Nan Ju was baffled.

“Why not? It’s your flower.”

As soon as the words left her mouth, Bai Cha felt instant regret. She always struggled to control her temper, often speaking in ways that offended others. Fortunately, this Alpha didn’t seem angry.

“She talks like an Omega—soft and slow, so pleasant to hear.”

Bai Cha thought this to herself but replied aloud, “Consider it repayment for the meal you treated me to last time. Now we’re even.”

How adorable.

Nan Ju sighed inwardly, resisting the urge to tease the girl for her naivety. She slid out of the car, rose in hand, her heels clicking lightly against the pavement with effortless grace.

“So, does this make us friends now?”

Friends…

An unfamiliar emotion swelled in Bai Cha’s chest—something bittersweet. Not yet understanding the feeling, she instinctively nibbled the soft flesh inside her lip with her small fangs before muttering a reluctant, “Mhm.”

Nan Ju’s eyes curved with amusement, her gaze misty. “The flowers are all sold—time to head home. Want me to give you a ride this time?”

“No.”

Unsurprised by the rejection, Nan Ju didn’t press further. Instead, she rummaged in her car for a slip of paper and scribbled down her contact details.

“Kid, if you ever want to see me again, come to this riverside. You pick the time—I’ll keep this spot open for you.”

“W-who said I want to see you?!”

The stubborn little thing snapped back, her temper flaring. But despite her protests, her hand darted out to snatch the note from Nan Ju’s fingers almost instantly.

“Wednesday at 3 PM. If you’re late, I won’t wait.”