The White Moonlight I Chased, the Divorce I Never Expected (GL) - Chapter 10

“Are you alone?”

The thumping music around her gradually faded into the background. As Chi Yi’s eyelids grew heavier, and her body was about to sink into darkness, a soft, flirtatious voice whispered in her ear.

Chi Yi opened her eyes to find a pair of charming peach blossom eyes unabashedly surveying her, as if admiring a work of art.

The young girl was strikingly beautiful. Her long hair cascaded over her shoulders, and though her face was sweet and innocent, her outfit was anything but: a figure-hugging mini skirt and a strapless top revealed tantalizing glimpses of smooth, fair skin.

Chi Yi blinked, momentarily stunned by the intensity of the girl’s gaze. “Hello,” she greeted politely.

“Hi there. Feeling bored all alone? Would you like some company?” You Ranran leaned closer, picking up on the clean, sharp scent of whisky that set Chi Yi apart from the usual heavy perfumes of the bar. She smiled, pleased, and half-closed her eyes in contentment.

An unfamiliar wave of lavender fragrance abruptly invaded Chi Yi’s senses. She instinctively dodged the soft body leaning toward her, a jolt of alarm flashing through her.

Releasing one’s pheromones in public on purpose was extremely dangerous. If an Alpha were triggered into heat by it, the resulting pheromonal disorder could have devastating consequences — serious enough to involve the police.

You Ranran only laughed more charmingly, clearly entertained by the Alpha’s stiff restraint.

Seeing Chi Yi dodge, she didn’t push further. Instead, she casually plucked a cherry from the fruit platter and teasingly moved to feed it to Chi Yi.

Chi Yi turned her head away, her tone filled with irritation. “What do you think you’re doing?”

Unbothered, You Ranran simply popped the cherry into her own mouth, speaking seductively, “Do you know… there’s more to a cherry than just the fruit?”

The lavender scent grew stronger, thick in the air.

You Ranran’s cheeks flushed slightly, her mouth full, her delicate eyes hinting at barely restrained desire.

“I don’t care. Please have some respect,” Chi Yi snapped coldly. After a brief moment of stunned silence, she stood up decisively and stepped into the crowd on the dance floor, her voice icily serious.

The dance floor was a sea of writhing bodies pressed against each other. Chi Yi grew increasingly frustrated as she squeezed her way through. She couldn’t understand what anyone saw in dancing — the mingling scents of all the different pheromones only made her feel more suffocated.

Dodging contact as much as possible, she took a deep breath and finally forced her way out of the suffocating crowd. As she emerged, she bumped into Song Yan and Tan Jin — and just as she was about to breathe a sigh of relief, someone roughly threw an arm around her shoulder, dragging her back.

Luckily, Song Yan was familiar with the place. She quickly led them through a quieter path back to their booth, which was now mercifully empty.

Chi Yi exhaled heavily, waving her hand in front of her nose as she sat down. The lingering lavender scent still clung to her, making her uncomfortable.

Song Yan didn’t tease her — they had all seen what happened earlier.

Although Chi Yi had a mischievous streak, she had always abided strictly by Alpha ethics. Since reaching adulthood, she hadn’t had much physical contact with anyone and was largely clueless about the subtleties of Alpha-Omega interactions. Had that encounter lasted a few seconds longer, she might have lost control — and in front of Wen Ranqing, no less.

From afar, Song Yan cast a glance at the bar’s exit, feeling a burst of satisfaction as if she had helped Chi Yi vent some long-suppressed frustration. However, much like the information she had recently uncovered, she chose not to share it with Chi Yi for now.

While their classmates had been busy with studies and having fun, Chi Yi had already placed Wen Ranqing in her heart as an unattainable ideal — her “white moonlight.” Every step she had taken over the years had been a desperate attempt to catch up, to stand shoulder to shoulder with Wen Ranqing.

How could Song Yan bear to watch Chi Yi fall back into that bottomless abyss?

“What are you looking at?” Chi Yi asked, glancing back curiously — all she caught was a fleeting glimpse of a young boy’s back.

“Nothing,” Song Yan chuckled, brushing it off.

“I heard you and Jinjin are going on an internship? Mining work?”

Tan Jin, trying to minimize her presence even more, quietly sipped her milk tea and listened silently to their conversation.

“Yeah,” Chi Yi replied. She was feeling a little thirsty but wrinkled her nose in disdain at the cherries on the table, turning her head away.

Song Yan ordered a glass of plain water for Chi Yi.
“Don’t tell me no headhunters have contacted you. President Tan from Yitong even asked me about you. Sure, Yitong might not be as big as Wen Corporation, but it’s still a company people would kill to get into. Why waste time running off to some mountain village, where the environment’s terrible? I don’t want to see my little sparrow turn into a little crow, all sunburned and black as coal.”

After teasing Chi Yi, she turned to Tan Jin, her tone softening.
“Of course, no matter what, Jinjin will always be adorable.”

Chi Yi shivered as goosebumps rose all over her arms. She pulled out her phone to distract herself.

But Song Yan wasn’t about to let her off so easily.
“Or… are you just running away?”

“Running? What would I be running from?” Chi Yi said casually, scrolling through the university forum, her expression tightening. “I just want a change of scenery — give the juniors a chance too. Can’t I?”

This year, Chi Yi hadn’t planned to participate in any design competitions. Awards at this level meant little to her now. Her mentor’s project was nearing completion as well, leaving her free and unburdened.

“Then what happened today at school? I heard it was quite a scene,” Song Yan pressed.

Chi Yi gave a brief recount — the same story she had told Tan Jin earlier — this time to Song Yan. Tan Jin quietly sipped her milk tea, lowering her presence even more.

Song Yan swirled her glass, raising an eyebrow. “Really?”

Just then, a notification popped up on Chi Yi’s phone — a friend request.
The note read: [Hello, brother-in-law. I’m Wen Junze. I have something I want to talk to you about.]

“Really,” Chi Yi affirmed.

She frowned, recalling vague memories of Wen Ranqing’s younger brother.
Uninterested, she ignored the request.

Someone she’d never met, actively trying to add her contact, using a title like that — it made her wonder just what exactly Wen Ranqing had been teaching him. Feeling increasingly annoyed, Chi Yi shoved her phone back into her pocket.

Meanwhile—

Wen Ranqing drove Wen Junze back to the old family house.
The mansion had been rebuilt after the fire, but many familiar details had been lost in the process. Now, the place felt empty and cold.

Aunt Wu, who was responsible for cleaning and caretaking, had prepared an especially lavish dinner knowing the young master was coming home for the first time.
But despite the table full of dishes, only two people sat down to eat, silently, as if the strict upbringing of their family had been engraved into their bones.

“You take your time eating. I have some things to take care of,” Wen Ranqing said as she rose from her seat.

Wen Junze, still slowly and awkwardly spooning rice into his mouth, looked up.
Just as Wen Ranqing was about to close the door to the study upstairs, he blurted out, “Sis, it’s not what you think—”

“I know,” she interrupted calmly.

“Finish your meal and get some rest. Tomorrow, you’re coming to the office with me.”

The young boy sighed deeply. He thought of all the rumors he had heard — stories others had eagerly fed him — stories he didn’t know whether to believe or reject.

Browsing through Wen Corporation’s official site, he eventually found Chi Yi’s contact information and sent a friend request, but there was no response.

After working on a paper and reviewing some upcoming project plans for the corporation, Wen Junze finally stretched and left his room to get a glass of water.

He was staying temporarily in a bedroom on the first floor.
Pushing the door open, he saw a figure sitting by the bay window in the living room.

Wen Ranqing sat curled up, knees drawn to her chest, head resting on her arms. She faced the neatly trimmed lawn of the Wen family’s backyard, unmoving.

“Sis?” Wen Junze called softly.

There was no answer. Realizing she might be asleep, he tiptoed closer.

Leaning against the cold wall, Wen Ranqing had fallen into a deep sleep, her small figure almost shrinking into itself.

Wen Junze’s heart ached at the sight. He thought about waking her to send her to bed properly, but a piece of paper loosely clutched in Wen Ranqing’s hand caught his eye.

Years of overseas education had taught him restraint, yet curiosity gnawed at him. After hesitating for a long time, he carefully pulled the photo from her hand.

As soon as he saw it clearly, Wen Ranqing lifted her head — and their eyes met. His gaze was filled with disbelief.

“Is this… my brother-in-law?” Wen Junze asked hesitantly.

Wen Ranqing allowed him to examine the photo closely.
Seeing him recognize Chi Yi, she gave a small, powerless smile.
“Not anymore. So don’t call her that.”

Darkness seemed to offer a rare sense of peace.
Taking back the photo, Wen Ranqing gently brushed away invisible dust and slid it into the back of her phone case.

Wen Junze fell silent.

The Wen family had three children.
Their eldest brother, an Omega, had shown no interest in the family business and had gone abroad early on to study medicine, cutting ties with the family.
Wen Ting, their father, had placed all his hopes of succession on Wen Ranqing.

After Wen Ranqing differentiated into a Beta, Wen Ting was both disappointed and desperate, afraid there would be no heir.
Thus, he had heaped even more pressure onto Wen Ranqing’s shoulders.

Later, when Wen Junze was born, he was immediately sent abroad to be raised and educated under the best international conditions — subjected to the same rigid, high-pressure upbringing that had shaped Wen Ranqing.

He had never felt much emotional connection to his parents, whom he rarely saw.
If it hadn’t been for Wen Ranqing adjusting his upbringing just in time — preventing him from repeating her own mistakes — Wen Junze’s personality might have turned out even gloomier than his sister’s.

Though he had chosen to study intelligent transportation systems in Country M — where the transportation industry was highly developed — in part to lighten Wen Ranqing’s burden, Wen Junze had earned his degree at a remarkably young age with genius-like speed.

In his heart, Wen Ranqing was the only person in the world who had ever been good to him — the only family member he truly cherished.

Wen Ranqing’s divorce from Chi Yi was something Wen Junze knew little about.
Even with all the fragmented information he had gathered, he couldn’t fully piece it together or understand it.

After Wen Ting passed away, Wen Corporation had lost its pillar.
Internal strife erupted, and external skepticism intensified.

Over the following years, Wen Ranqing tirelessly traveled across the country, meeting with partner companies to renegotiate contracts and secure investments. She painstakingly restructured subsidiary industries, selecting only the most capable staff.

It became normal for her to forget meals because of her heavy workload.
There were even times when, after secretaries knocked on her office door and received no response, they found her collapsed inside from exhaustion.

Returning home this time, Wen Junze had believed that, with his abilities, he could finally share Wen Ranqing’s burdens — allow his sister to rest.
He never expected to encounter such a complicated mess.

“Sis, just now…” he mumbled, lowering his head awkwardly as he confessed his earlier behavior.

Wen Ranqing listened quietly.
There was no anger in her expression. Instead, she slowly stood up and gently patted Wen Junze’s head.

The baby she had once cradled in her arms had now grown so tall — and was even learning to care for others.

Wen Ranqing gave him a soft, reassuring smile.
“It’s okay,” she said.

“It’s me who didn’t do well enough.”

Under the faint, desolate moonlight, Wen Ranqing’s figure as she left seemed lonely and fragile.
Her shadow stretched across the courtyard under the pale, clear glow of the moon, as if something essential was missing.

Wen Junze clenched his fists tightly at his sides and called out to her, his voice firm:
“Sis, if you love someone — go chase them.”