The White Moonlight I Chased, the Divorce I Never Expected (GL) - Chapter 20

The sky, painted deep blue, was streaked with fiery clouds.
Chi Yi’s eyes stung with exhaustion. She instinctively lifted her hand to rub them but dropped it halfway — she had barely slept a few hours across several days, and her whole body was out of sync.

The woman leaning against the car had a perfect figure even from a distance. Bathed in the soft glow of the sunset, she seemed to be finishing a work call, casually tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear.

Chi Yi shook out her jacket, trying to ease the summer heat and clear her foggy mind.

She had mistaken her for Song Yan — she really must have been deliriously tired.

“…Reschedule everything. I’ll handle the negotiation personally tomorrow. Also, try to keep the third of next month free — I have personal matters to attend to.”

“Mm. That’s it.”

Song Yan hung up just as Chi Yi reached her. Seeing Chi Yi’s exhausted expression, she moved quickly, popping the trunk open and motioning for her to help.

“How come you had time to come today?” Chi Yi asked, her voice hoarse from fatigue.

She moved mechanically, not even bothering to ask what was in the boxes — she simply picked up one of the insulated containers and carried it to the door.

While Chi Yi unlocked the door with her fingerprint, Song Yan set her box down and straightened up,
“You should be thanking me for having time. Expecting you to call me first is pure wishful thinking. You still haven’t explained what happened last time. So I had to come personally — house-call service.”

Before Chi Yi could respond, Song Yan dumped the boxes at the entrance and strode into the house like she owned the place. Chi Yi pressed her hand to her forehead helplessly.

Song Yan still didn’t know that Chi Yi had spent the sensitive period with Wen Ranqing.
She had only heard the rough details — and Chi Yi had glossed over them vaguely during phone calls.
Clearly, Song Yan had come today intending to settle accounts.

“What did you bring?”

Chi Yi asked, partly out of guilt, stacking the two containers and hauling them inside, trying to steer the conversation away.

Tossing her car keys carelessly onto the table, Song Yan came over with great excitement to open the boxes.
“Fresh sashimi, flown in at noon. Straight from Hokkaido. Plus a few more things from the restaurant. Should be more than enough for us.”

If nothing else, when it came to food, no one was more reliable than Song Yan.
Chi Yi, having been subtly influenced by her over the years, immediately recognized the logo of the famously exorbitant Japanese restaurant — and it was two full boxes. Enough to feed a small army.

Before Chi Yi could voice her doubt, the doorbell rang again.
This time, Song Yan beat her to it.

Grinning like a fox, she flung the door open with the casualness of someone at home.
“You’re here! Come in — just leave your shoes by the door.”

Chi Yi poked her head out from behind the dining table — only to see Tan Jin standing at the entrance, looking a little awkward.

It was unexpected, but somehow made perfect sense.

Chi Yi nodded in greeting, naturally accepting the reality that the three of them would be having dinner at her place without any prior arrangement.

They set up the food on a low table for convenience. Song Yan rifled through Chi Yi’s wine cabinet, pulling out two bottles of plum wine.
She plopped herself down right beside Tan Jin and poured drinks for everyone.

“You sure live a pretty carefree life,” Song Yan said, glancing around.
The once-empty wine cabinet was now fully stocked; gaming controllers, figurines, and model kits were scattered around — things Song Yan had never seen Chi Yi interested in before.

Chi Yi arranged the tableware without even lifting her head.
“Just unboxed them. Feel free to grab whatever interests you.”

“I’m not into that stuff,” Song Yan sniffed, “but wow — rich girl really knows how to spend.
You refused to let me find you a financial manager, fine — but you could’ve at least bought a proper car or real estate. These toys aren’t exactly investments.”

“I did buy a car,” Chi Yi said indifferently as she mixed some wasabi into her soy sauce.
“Haven’t had time to pick it up yet.”

“And don’t get it twisted — the patent transfer money just cleared. I can still afford to feed myself.”

Song Yan nodded, understanding the situation.
She had already heard whispers from business clients that Wen Corporation was facing serious financial turbulence.

“You can still file for overdue compensation if needed— want me to—”

“No need.”

Tan Jin subtly shifted away, edging toward the empty side of the table — the next seat over being the sofa.
Sitting too close to Song Yan was overwhelming.
Just like her scent — cold and sharp — Song Yan herself had a commanding presence that was hard to ignore, even if it wasn’t unpleasant.

Pretending not to notice, Tan Jin lowered her head to sip her drink.

The plum wine wasn’t as strong as she had expected.
The sweet taste of ripe plums filled her mouth, leaving a soft, lingering aftertaste on her tongue.

Sipping from her cup, Tan Jin noticed her drink was running low.
She glanced at the wine bottle near Song Yan’s hand, but seeing Song Yan still chatting with Chi Yi, she hesitated to interrupt.

Just as she lowered her gaze, a piece of fish was suddenly placed onto her plate.
Song Yan, her lips curving into a playful smile, spoke with mock seriousness,
“Eat something to line your stomach first. Plum wine goes down easy, but it hits fast too.”

“Finish this piece, and I’ll pour you another.”

Maybe it really was the alcohol already taking effect, but Tan Jin felt her cheeks warming.
Song Yan’s deep gray eyes seemed to hold a kind of subtle, bewitching charm.
Without thinking, Tan Jin obediently followed her instruction.

Tan Jin’s features carried an unmistakable scholarly aura.
Her short hair was neatly tucked behind her ears, and a pair of black-framed glasses sat properly on her nose — the picture of a diligent, worry-free student.

At this moment, one side of her cheek puffed out adorably, like a tiny hamster.

Song Yan, resting her chin lightly on her palm, couldn’t help but smile, unabashedly watching her eat — as if staring at someone while they ate wasn’t even remotely impolite.

Tan Jin had always blended quietly into crowds — the kind of person you’d miss on a first glance.
Chi Yi’s bond with her was clearly the natural closeness between friends, but never had anyone so openly and unabashedly focused their gaze on her.

Feeling her face grow hotter, Tan Jin sped up her chewing, quickly swallowing the tender sashimi.

“Good girl,” Song Yan praised with a chuckle, topping off her cup with another pour of the clear, sweet plum wine.

Chi Yi, unable to bear the scene, threw her head back and downed her own drink in one shot, slamming the empty cup down in front of Song Yan.
“Mama Song, me too.”

Song Yan shot her a glare — but with Tan Jin nearby, she still obligingly refilled her glass.

As the rounds continued, their faces all flushed slightly with alcohol.
Chi Yi listened lazily as Song Yan rambled about everything from business gossip to scandalous rumors in high society — years’ worth of spicy news served all at once like a crash course.

Meanwhile, Tan Jin, with her low tolerance for alcohol, quietly dozed off to one side.

Seeing this, Song Yan gently placed a pillow under her head and carefully moved her to the sofa, covering her with a blanket before returning to her seat.

She was immediately met with Chi Yi’s scrutinizing gaze.

Chi Yi looked at the peacefully sleeping Tan Jin, then turned back to Song Yan, her tone turning serious for the first time that evening.
“Are you serious?”

Song Yan had always been an Alpha — proud, beautiful, exuding a confident, commanding energy.
Her deep gray eyes often brimmed with righteous determination when she was at work — and playful warmth in private.

Chi Yi and Song Yan had practically grown up together — they knew each other too well.
Despite her teasing nature and flirtatious comments about “getting close to pretty girls,” Song Yan had always been restrained and disciplined — she’d never had a true partner.

Tan Jin was the first person Song Yan had ever seriously expressed feelings for.
Chi Yi just wanted to make sure — sincerely, without joking.

Song Yan picked up a new bottle — this time, white wine.
Pouring herself a glass, she answered calmly,
“Serious.”

One was her steadfast, irreplaceable childhood friend.
The other was her close university companion of four years.
After a moment of silence, Chi Yi decided there were some things she needed to say.

“Tan Jin… she…” Chi Yi started carefully.

“She won’t date Alphas,” Song Yan interrupted, swirling the wine in her glass and draining it quickly.
“I know.”

The room fell briefly into a contemplative silence.

Then Song Yan smiled, easy and open:
“But just because she won’t date Alphas doesn’t mean she won’t date me.”

Chi Yi, a little tipsy, stared at her in stunned silence, clearly misunderstanding her meaning.

Song Yan couldn’t help laughing out loud.
“I’m not saying I’m going to switch genders.”

“In this day and age, liking someone doesn’t mean you’re just attracted to their gender,” she said casually, refilling her glass again.
“I’ll make her fall for me — not force her to love an Alpha.”

Seeing Chi Yi lower her head, deep in thought, Song Yan sighed dramatically.
“You’ve already been through a divorce — surely this isn’t so hard to understand?”

“…I understand.”

“Anyway… Tan Jin is a really good girl. Treat her well.”

“Of course I will,” Song Yan said with complete seriousness.

The mention of divorce seemed to remind Song Yan of her true purpose tonight. Without any transition, a sharp gaze locked onto Chi Yi.

“You interned on a Wen Corporation project?”

“Yeah,” Chi Yi replied simply.

“The bid was listed under the Geological Bureau. I didn’t know it was a Wen project when I went.”

Chi Yi almost knocked over her wine glass with a shaky hand. She quickly grabbed a couple of tissues, wiped casually, and avoided looking at Song Yan.

Her actions were rushed; her eyes, evasive — suspicious.

Song Yan arched an eyebrow.
“Weren’t you also previously assigned to Wen Corporation’s design and R&D department? Come on — tell the truth.”

Realizing this was what Song Yan was hung up on, Chi Yi relaxed a little.
That part, at least, she truly hadn’t known.

“There were too many projects. Most of them didn’t go through me directly.”

Suddenly, Chi Yi regretted changing the ceiling lights on the first floor.
The new ones were bright — too bright — casting an interrogation-room harshness over Song Yan’s serious face.

Especially when Song Yan paused for a moment before speaking again —
Chi Yi’s heart inexplicably pounded, a nervous flutter she couldn’t control.

After a long beat, Song Yan finally asked, with some difficulty,
“I can understand why you made the choice you did back then, but…”

“Do you really not love Wen Ranqing anymore?”

In an instant, Chi Yi fell silent.
She didn’t move, didn’t deny it — only lowered her gaze, fists clenched so tightly that her knuckles turned white.

It was a long time before she finally loosened her hands and said,
“I misunderstood her. She never did anything to betray me. I just didn’t trust her enough.”

“It was my fault.”

Song Yan stared at her, stunned.
She hadn’t realized Chi Yi truly hadn’t known — and now that she did know, Song Yan could only sigh.

“Wen Ranqing didn’t betray you. She fulfilled your marriage contract. A few days ago, she even issued a public divorce statement, taking all the blame onto herself.
As a former wife, she did everything she was supposed to.”

“And you… you loved her for so long.”

Song Yan moved to sit beside her, gently patting Chi Yi’s bent back.
Though it was cruel, it would be even crueler to let Chi Yi remain in false hope — so she said it:

“But she doesn’t love you.”

Years of pent-up emotion seemed to find an outlet all at once.
Chi Yi’s eyes reddened instantly.
She tilted her head back, trying to hold it in, but the tears spilled out anyway — like a kite with a broken string.

Four years of contractual marriage.
Four years — and Wen Ranqing had never loved her.
Even now, divorced, the one who couldn’t let go was herself.
It was guilt — the guilt Wen Ranqing felt for Chi Yi saving her life in that fire — that had kept her bound by Chi Yi’s side.

But Wen Ranqing didn’t love her.
And Chi Yi had never blamed her for that.

There was no rule that said if you loved someone, they were obliged to love you back.

Divorcing had been Chi Yi’s own choice.
She was tired.
Wen Ranqing had gained an Alpha’s support to inherit the family business.
Chi Yi had spent four years seeing the truth — that love was not part of the equation.
Those four years had simply reached their natural end.

Chi Yi lifted her hand to wipe her tears but froze —
She remembered Wen Ranqing’s gentle reminder: “Don’t rub your eyes — it’s unhygienic.”

Song Yan, unable to bear it, quietly passed her a pack of tissues.

“Chi Yi,” she said softly.
“It’s time to let go.”

Let go?

Chi Yi swallowed the rising lump in her throat, blinking against the fresh wave of tears.

Let go… she couldn’t.
Not only had she failed to let go, she had clung to Wen Ranqing — hurt her, tangled her up in messy emotions.

The question Song Yan had asked — Chi Yi had asked herself countless times.

And she simply had no way to deny it.