The White Moonlight I Chased, the Divorce I Never Expected (GL) - Chapter 13

“Xiaoyi.”

“Why did you come alone? It’s dangerous.”

“I’m right here. Don’t run. Take it slow.”

Wen Ranqing’s black coat was completely soaked, clinging tightly to her body. She sat by a tree, a few strands of her black hair peeking out from under her hood, dripping with water.

She smiled at Chi Yi, her gaze soft and submissive, shimmering faintly with moisture, yet filled with overwhelming guilt.

Chi Yi knew… she shouldn’t have come. It was too dangerous—especially for Wen Ranqing. There was no need for it.

Chi Yi said nothing, her face dark, her throat tight with bitterness. She strode quickly toward her.

She hated how troublesome Wen Ranqing was. She hated that even after the divorce, Wen Ranqing still stirred her heart. She hated herself even more—for still acting recklessly out of worry for her.

But the person she had loved for so many years was now trapped alone in the stormy, deep mountains during her heat. No matter how hard she tried, Chi Yi simply couldn’t stand by and do nothing.

Standing in front of her, the rich scent of roses—without a single thorn—wrapped around Chi Yi like soft vines, binding her tightly, making it impossible to escape.

Even without speaking, without doing anything, Wen Ranqing was already an unbearable temptation for Chi Yi. And now, a cold hand brushed lightly across her face.

In Wen Ranqing’s eyes, there was now a deep tenderness. Her peach blossom-shaped eyes reflected the tiny figure of Chi Yi, glistening faintly as she asked, “Does it hurt?”

The restlessness in Chi Yi’s heart was instantly ignited. She slapped Wen Ranqing’s hand away—not with much force—but it left a noticeable red mark.

“Don’t move.”

“Since you’re here already…”

Chi Yi quickly stripped off her own jacket. Though it was just as wet as Wen Ranqing’s coat, it was still warm with her body heat. With an impatient tug from the bottom up, she zipped it closed around Wen Ranqing, enclosing her completely in its warmth.

The jacket also carried a faint trace of Chi Yi’s induced pheromones, and Wen Ranqing instinctively curled further into it.

In preparation for emergencies, the surveying team had been issued both Alpha and Omega-specific inhibitors, along with general blockers. Everyone, regardless of secondary gender, was required to carry them. Without pausing, Chi Yi rummaged through her bag.

“You’re in heat. I only have this—make do with it for now.”

Seeing Wen Ranqing leaning into the scent of her pheromones, Chi Yi’s hands froze briefly. Clearing her throat, she then pressed the vial firmly into Wen Ranqing’s palm.

The redness from earlier still hadn’t faded from the back of Wen Ranqing’s hand, and now her delicate palm turned an even deeper shade under the force. Yet her expression remained docile. “Thank you,” she said softly.

Chi Yi felt almost suffocated by her.

Wasn’t she supposed to be cold and indifferent? Weren’t there countless admirers at her feet? Wasn’t she supposed to feel nothing for Chi Yi?

Then why was she now so gentle, allowing Chi Yi to be so rough, so unkind?

Chi Yi couldn’t understand. Agitated and confused, her already disrupted mental strength flared inside her. She sprayed some blocker into the air and said impatiently, “No need to be so polite, President Wen.”

She then turned away, refusing to look at her.

Wen Ranqing gazed tenderly at Chi Yi’s back, her heart full of guilt and pain.

Chi Yi had never been the typical “good little girl.” Even princess dresses couldn’t restrain her wild, mischievous energy. Wherever she went, she was loud and brash, full of untamable spirit.

Chi Yi was still Chi Yi—the real Chi Yi—no longer the overly obedient, heartbreakingly considerate girl Wen Ranqing had once believed her to be.

Thank goodness it had all been a lie.

Wen Ranqing didn’t want to disturb Chi Yi’s life again. But seeing her like this… was it selfish to hope—just a little—that she could still have a tiny place in her heart?

Judging that enough time had passed, Chi Yi asked, “Are you ready?”

“Mm.” Wen Ranqing reined in her emotions before Chi Yi turned back around, not wanting to burden her too much at once.

Chi Yi checked the communication equipment. Her phone was dead. The walkie-talkie wasn’t responding either. The rain had washed away all tracks, leaving the forest a disorienting, misty blur.

It had been quite a while since her scheduled return. If the rescue team had been able to find them, they would have by now. Most likely, no one knew their exact location.

Before the internship began, Chi Yi had heard that there were rangers stationed somewhere on the mountain. After a moment’s thought, she decided to head further uphill to try her luck.

She shared her plan with Wen Ranqing, who responded with a soft “Mm,” bracing herself against the tree behind her as she tried to stand.

Seeing that Wen Ranqing was about to collapse back down, Chi Yi immediately caught her—not pulling her fully into her arms, but just enough to steady her firmly.

Chi Yi let go, her voice cold: “Injured? Can’t walk?”

Wen Ranqing nodded, a faint flush rising to her pale cheeks, an embarrassed look crossing her face. “Just twisted it a little. It’s not serious.”

One hand gripping the tree trunk for support, she used the other to tuck a stray lock of hair behind her ear, trying her best to appear less disheveled.

Her pale, striking face was fully revealed under the rain, and for just a few seconds, their gazes locked. Then Chi Yi adjusted her backpack straps, pulling them across her chest, and turned around.

“Get on.”

Chi Yi’s slender, powerful fingers beckoned in the air, urging her impatiently, “Hurry up.”

“I’m too young to end up on tomorrow’s headlines. ‘Corpse found in the mountains: is it the decay of humanity or the collapse of morality…'”

The woman’s body was light and soft. A small, breathy laugh, warm against Chi Yi’s ear, made her involuntarily chuckle too—only to quickly cover it up with two awkward coughs.

Wen Ranqing used her phone flashlight to light the way. The reassuring scent of Chi Yi’s pheromones gradually loosened the mental strain Wen Ranqing had been forcing herself to endure. She reached out, wrapping her arms lightly around Chi Yi’s neck. Feeling no resistance, she allowed her upper body to lean gently against Chi Yi’s sharp, fragile shoulder blades.

Her peach blossom eyes grew slightly hazy. Wen Ranqing pressed her cheek against Chi Yi’s shoulder, her free hand wandering slowly, brushing over old scars until it reached the edge of the inhibitor patch on Chi Yi’s nape.

“Sit still. Don’t move around,” Chi Yi warned, her tone sharp. “I only brought one inhibitor.”

Chi Yi moved carefully, not wanting to jostle the delicate, feverish Wen Ranqing too much, but also aware that they couldn’t stay out in the rain for long. Every step she took was cautious and steady, like walking on thin ice.

Yet Wen Ranqing insisted on these subtle, provocative gestures. Most people couldn’t endure it—Chi Yi even less so. Her breathing grew heavier without her realizing it, and the air around them became thick with the scent of alcohol.

Wen Ranqing eventually quieted, simply resting her face against Chi Yi’s neck and shoulder. Her warm breath tickled Chi Yi’s skin, like a soft, bewitching little fox burrowing into her senses.

“Xiaoyi… are you afraid of dying?”

“I’m not,” Chi Yi replied with a frown. Wen Ranqing’s body temperature was scarily high. Chi Yi suspected she was half-delirious with fever—talking nonsense.

This was her ex-wife, after all. Life and death shouldn’t even be a conversation between them. Wen Ranqing should not be talking to her—no, she shouldn’t even be getting close to her.

Such a troublemaker.

Relying on her sense of the terrain and surroundings, Chi Yi finally spotted a hazy silhouette of a small courtyard ahead and quickened her pace.

“Have you ever imagined dying, Xiaoyi?” Wen Ranqing murmured again.

Impatience prickled at Chi Yi’s tone: “President Wen, you’re not going to die, and neither will I. Stop talking nonsense—you’re burning up.”

A small hum of laughter brushed her ear, making Chi Yi freeze mid-step for two seconds before she pushed forward again.

Ahead, a man wearing a rain poncho was moving supplies into the courtyard. Upon spotting them, he shone a strong flashlight in their direction.

Chi Yi approached quickly. After confirming the man was indeed a forest ranger, she explained their situation in rapid bursts.

“The storm has knocked out communications,” the ranger said. “No one can get a signal right now. There’s an empty room here—you can stay for the night.”

The ranger was a Beta male, unable to sense the pheromonal tension in the air. Seeing Chi Yi’s anxious expression and hearing the urgency in her explanation, he wasted no time leading them inside.

Chi Yi carefully set Wen Ranqing down, half-supporting her in her arms while refusing the ranger’s offer to help. “Thank you,” she said, catching her breath. “Is there any hot water here? My… friend was caught in the rain. She might have a fever.”

“There is,” the ranger uncle said. “This room has a private shower. If you need, there are a few brand-new work T-shirts and shorts in the cabinet. I’ll go get you some fever medicine.”

The ranger, having seen their close interaction, more or less guessed the nature of their relationship. He thoughtfully went back to his own room and quickly returned with some fever-reducing medication and a bottle of hot water. He told them to rest at ease—the communication facilities would be repaired as soon as possible.

Chi Yi thanked him. Her tightly wound nerves finally relaxed a little. Lifting the half-conscious Wen Ranqing into her arms, she hesitated briefly before carrying her toward the bathroom.

“Stand… stand properly,” Chi Yi ordered.

Wen Ranqing’s hands rested weakly on Chi Yi’s shoulders. Her body, exhausted beyond measure, sagged heavily, unable to support herself.

Chi Yi scolded her sharply, only to see Wen Ranqing’s peach blossom eyes turn red, the emotion adding a heartbreaking kind of allure to her already devastating beauty.

“Xiaoyi… I’m sorry…” Wen Ranqing’s voice trembled, tinged with a hint of pleading, as Chi Yi rather roughly pulled off her outer raincoat.

The small bathroom was lit with a warm yellow glow. Chi Yi saw Wen Ranqing’s cheeks flushed red, her breathing uneven, but the woman tried her best to steady herself, making it easier for Chi Yi to help remove her soaked clothes.

Chi Yi exhaled heavily, pressing her palm hard against her own hand to calm down, before pulling down the zipper of Wen Ranqing’s second jacket.

A soft pink hue spread from the neckline down to her delicate, pale neck. Drops of water trickled from her soaked hair, disappearing into unseen hollows. Her curvaceous body shivered under the combined chill and rising fever.

Wen Ranqing lifted her chin slightly, the faint movement exposing the subtle bob of her throat. Seeing it, Chi Yi’s heart gave an involuntary jolt. Wen Ranqing, helpless and embarrassed, called out in a whisper, “Xiaoyi…”

“Take a shower. I’m sure President Wen can handle it herself,” Chi Yi finally said, her tone turning cold once again. She placed Wen Ranqing’s hands down by her sides.

Wen Ranqing, regaining a sliver of clarity, nodded softly. “I can.”

“The towel is here. This is disposable underwear,” Chi Yi added tersely. Then, with a sharp pull, she slid the bathroom door shut.

A moment later, Chi Yi’s voice came faintly from outside: “Don’t take too long. I’m tired. I want to sleep early.”

Through the frosted glass door, Wen Ranqing could see Chi Yi leaning back against the wall, arms crossed, silently waiting. Biting her lower lip, Wen Ranqing felt a warm guilt bloom in her heart.

She moved quickly. When Wen Ranqing stepped out of the bathroom, she was met with the fresh citrus scent of the inhibitor spray lingering in the air. Glancing at the time, she saw it was already 10 PM.

Shrouded in a faint mist from the shower, she approached, but Chi Yi quickly averted her gaze and tossed a T-shirt onto her shoulder.

“President Wen, you should rest early,” Chi Yi said coolly.