The White Moonlight I Chased, the Divorce I Never Expected (GL) - Chapter 14

“Don’t worry, President Wen,” Chi Yi said, catching a glimpse of Wen Ranqing staying still from the corner of her eye. She pointed to an extra blanket laid out at the edge of the small bed. “I’ll manage on the chair tonight.”

“Xiaoyi…” Wen Ranqing started to speak.

But with a sharp whoosh, the door was pulled shut. Wen Ranqing bit her lip. Before she could finish her sentence, the air for conversation was completely cut off.

Through the frosted glass, she could vaguely make out Chi Yi’s tall, slender figure taking off her clothes. Flustered, Wen Ranqing quickly turned away.

She had words she wanted to say to Chi Yi. Lying on the bed, curled slightly on her side, her eyelids grew heavier and heavier.

In the haze of half-sleep, she heard faint movements. Soon after, the room fell into silence.

When Wen Ranqing next opened her eyes, it was already early morning. The fresh citrus scent of the blocker still lingered faintly in the air. Chi Yi’s phone, left charging on the desk, briefly lit up with a message notification.

The sudden flash of light made Wen Ranqing blink uncomfortably. Before the room plunged back into darkness, she clearly noticed one thing—Chi Yi was no longer there.

“Xiaoyi?” she called out softly, sitting up. No answer.

The rain outside was still falling. Thick clouds covered the sky, blocking out any trace of light.

Wrapping herself tightly in a blanket, Wen Ranqing grabbed a transparent umbrella near the door and stepped outside, a growing sense of dread gnawing at her heart—
Chi Yi’s susceptibility period might have arrived early.

Earlier, when Chi Yi carried her, she had already seemed off. Now, having come into direct contact with Wen Ranqing’s heat phase, it was hard not to worry that Chi Yi had been forcibly triggered into her own sensitivity.

Wen Ranqing, rarely flustered, moved with an unusual urgency.

Aside from a few small residential cabins, the courtyard only had a tiny tool shed. A faint light shone from within, and soft sounds could be heard.

Knowing Chi Yi’s fear of the dark, Wen Ranqing knocked twice on the door. Without waiting for a response, she anxiously pushed it open.

Inside, the ranger—an older man in a rain jacket—was inspecting the equipment and looking for working cables. Startled by the sudden commotion, he clutched his chest before recognizing Wen Ranqing—the sickly-looking woman from earlier—and asked, “Is something wrong?”

Her pale face was tinged with a faint flush, making her look even more fragile. Wen Ranqing pressed her lips together tightly, saying nothing.

“Is the fever still not down?” the ranger asked, worry lining his face. “We don’t have any more medicine here, but don’t panic—communications should be restored by noon tomorrow.”

The tool shed was small; with a single glance, it was obvious there was no one else inside. More importantly, there was no trace of Chi Yi’s pheromones in the air.

Wen Ranqing shook her head slightly. “Sorry for startling you. I’m fine.”

The ranger looked at her skeptically but, seeing her quickly regain a composed demeanor, eventually nodded and returned to checking his equipment.

“Excuse me…” Wen Ranqing asked, “have you seen my friend?”

“No,” he answered. “Why? Is something wrong?”

Wen Ranqing hadn’t really expected much. But hearing his denial still made her heart sink a little deeper. “It’s nothing. She might have just stepped outside for some air. Sorry to disturb you.”

She didn’t mention anything about Chi Yi’s possible susceptibility to the ranger. If Chi Yi’s sensitivity had truly been triggered, Wen Ranqing didn’t want anyone else’s presence making things worse for her.

Politely closing the door, Wen Ranqing quickly searched around the courtyard.

At the farthest corner from their room, she finally caught a faint whiff of citrus in the air.

“Xiaoyi?” she called out, voice low.

“Is that you over there?”

When Alphas entered their susceptibility period, they often became irritable and deeply insecure. The stronger their mental power, the more fragile their sense of security became.

Once an Alpha entered their susceptibility period without medical suppression, they would become restless, their craving for an Omega intensifying, desperately needing the Omega’s comfort.

The air was thick with a mixture of citrus and whiskey scents. Across the small courtyard wall, Wen Ranqing carefully called out, her voice soft and coaxing, as if afraid even the slightest wrong note would frighten Chi Yi.

“Xiaoyi, don’t be scared. Stay where you are, okay? I’ll come to you.”

A moment later, the sound of bottles clattering to the ground broke the stillness. Chi Yi, struggling, pressed her hands over her gland, her body tense like a startled animal. “No… stay back… don’t come closer…” she gasped.

Two spent syringes lay discarded beside Chi Yi. She leaned back against the wall, gulping for air, acutely aware that her mental strength and pheromones were spiraling completely out of her control. Every second became harder to endure.

As for Wen Ranqing…

Chi Yi couldn’t—mustn’t—see her now.

Sensing the overwhelming unease flowing through the air, Wen Ranqing felt a stabbing pain in her heart. Her fingers clutched the blanket tightly, knuckles white, eyes brimming with tears. Her voice, trembling unconsciously with the hint of a sob, called out again:

“Xiaoyi… I can help you. Please listen to me, okay?”

Hearing her voice only made Chi Yi more agitated, more desperate.

She didn’t want to listen. She didn’t want to hear Wen Ranqing repeatedly apologize for old wounds.

Chi Yi didn’t want Wen Ranqing to feel chained to her out of guilt—out of the belief that she owed her a life.
And she didn’t want Wen Ranqing treating herself like nothing more than a means of compensation.

Chi Yi’s head throbbed painfully, the noise in her ears growing louder, her body teetering at the edge of complete collapse.

Glancing toward the pitch-black forest in the distance, where the darkness could hide anything, she didn’t hesitate. Staggering, she tried to force herself to stand.

When Wen Ranqing heard no reply, she hurried out the back door—only to see Chi Yi, drenched and pale, crumpled on the ground.

“Xiaoyi!” she cried.

As Wen Ranqing approached, the tall, slender Alpha curled in on herself, trembling uncontrollably.

The wild rose scent that Chi Yi usually suppressed now unfurled into the air, struggling to calm her unrest. The more Wen Ranqing’s scent filled the space, the more Chi Yi’s yearning grew, burning painfully deep inside.

“D-Don’t come any closer…” Chi Yi stammered, her voice trembling with fear, her back pressed against the wall with nowhere left to run.

Terror overwhelmed her. But the moment Wen Ranqing gently touched her head, the fear evaporated like mist.

“Don’t be afraid. I’m here,” Wen Ranqing whispered, her voice softer than ever.

Chi Yi lifted her head. Her bloodshot eyes, wide and innocent, stared up at Wen Ranqing like a wounded, helpless animal.

“D-Don’t…” Chi Yi murmured, clumsily reaching for the medication patch at the back of her neck—only to find she no longer had the strength to resist.

The heavy raindrops beating down on her were blocked by Wen Ranqing’s umbrella. Wen Ranqing deliberately released more of her pheromones, crouching down and wrapping a comforting arm around Chi Yi’s trembling shoulders.

“Let’s go back to the room, okay?” she coaxed patiently, voice low and gentle. “You’re in susceptibility now. Staying out here won’t help—you’ll only hurt yourself more. Come with me, please?”

Chi Yi blinked slowly. She didn’t resist, didn’t struggle. She no longer averted her gaze—only stared at Wen Ranqing blankly, almost dazed.

It was as if she were seeing the Wen Ranqing from years ago—the gentle one who used to softly lull her to sleep.

Caught in that gaze, Wen Ranqing felt her face flush uncontrollably. She carefully wiped away the tears streaming down Chi Yi’s face, then took her hand and led her back toward their room.

Under the grip of instinct, Chi Yi was like a child—obedient, docile. She followed Wen Ranqing quietly, allowing her to lead her into the bathroom, where she leaned against the sink, waiting.

Even when Wen Ranqing left to fetch clean clothes, Chi Yi kept her eyes glued to her, reluctant to look away for even a second.

Wen Ranqing could feel herself being affected by Chi Yi’s pheromones—her face and ears burning. She quickly forced herself to focus, opening the wardrobe to find a clean set of short-sleeved clothes and shorts suitable for Chi Yi’s size.

These clothes had been prepared as spares for different forest rangers.
What Chi Yi was wearing now was already the last piece available in the largest size.

After some comparison and careful selection, Wen Ranqing sighed in relief—Chi Yi’s build was slender enough that she should barely fit.

“Xiaoyi,” Wen Ranqing called, pulling open the bathroom door. “Change into this—”

The moment she stepped inside, the ventilation fan had already blown away the faint traces of floral scent, but it couldn’t dispel the thick, overwhelming aroma of whiskey that saturated the room.

She had only been gone for a short while, yet the Alpha’s instincts had already consumed what remained of Chi Yi’s rationality.
Chi Yi yanked Wen Ranqing toward her, both arms locking around her waist, pressing her firmly against the frosted glass door, burying her face deeply into the curve of her neck.

“Xiaoyi…” Wen Ranqing gasped, tilting her head to the side, her hands weakly pushing against Chi Yi’s shoulders, but ultimately yielding—willingly releasing her pheromones to soothe her.

The forced suppression of an S-class Omega’s heat was unstable; Wen Ranqing’s own body was already close to the edge.
Her legs weakened under her, and she had to brace against the wall for support, one hand slowly sliding to the small of Chi Yi’s back.

She gently patted Chi Yi’s tense, trembling frame again and again, her voice soft and soothing:

“Jiejie is here… It will pass soon. Don’t be scared.”

Hearing that word—jiejie (“big sister”)—Chi Yi’s mind cleared slightly.

Her gaze traveled slowly: from Wen Ranqing’s flushed, stunning face, to the tips of her delicate, pink-tinged ears, and finally landed on the vulnerable, reddened gland at her neck.

Regardless of gender or status, a gland in such a state was never a pleasant sight.
Wen Ranqing’s shoulders twitched, trying to shy away from Chi Yi’s intense, unblinking stare with that small, instinctive gesture.

The confined space was saturated with the rich, heady scent of blooming roses.
The atmosphere between them grew thick and heavy, charged with a tension too potent to dissipate.

Chi Yi stared for a long time at the fragile gland so easily exposed before her.
The touch of Wen Ranqing’s hand against the scars on her back, even though layers of fabric, sent her emotions spiraling out of control.

Her hand shot up, grabbing Wen Ranqing’s chin roughly, forcing her to meet her burning gaze.
Her voice, hoarse and savage, demanded:

“President Wen, you said you would help me. Tell me—how exactly are you going to help me?”