The White Moonlight I Chased, the Divorce I Never Expected (GL) - Chapter 21

“Song Yan… you, call a driver… properly send Miss Tan home…”

Supporting Chi Yi toward the bedroom, Song Yan hadn’t expected her to be this heavy despite her slim frame.
It took no small effort, even for an Alpha like herself, to lay Chi Yi down on the bed.

The bedroom lights were off, the door left half open, letting in a sliver of bright white light from outside.
Chi Yi lay sprawled in the glow, completely drunk, mumbling,
“Take good care of her…”

“I know,” Song Yan replied, adjusting the room temperature before carefully pulling a light blanket over her. She gave Chi Yi one last worried look before heading back to the living room to clean up.

Three empty glass bottles and a small mountain of crushed beer cans littered the space.

Song Yan had never seen Chi Yi drink this much.

She gathered everything into trash bags, then glanced around the room.
The “toys” scattered about — figurines, model kits, gaming gear — were nothing but distractions, she realized.

Chi Yi had never cared about anime or games before.
Before she met Wen Ranqing, she had been a wild, adventurous child, leading groups of kids in mischief.
After Wen Ranqing entered her life, everything seemed to revolve around her.

Chi Yi had turned down enviable job offers to go bury herself in the mountains for a month.
The house hadn’t acquired anything new — except for an overabundance of alcohol and these toys.

Song Yan could guess well enough: Chi Yi was just trying to shift her own focus.
And for the first time, looking at Tan Jin quietly sleeping on the sofa, Song Yan truly understood her.

Loving someone, and living without loving anyone —
Those were two entirely different states of being.

By the time Song Yan finished tidying up, it was nearly 10:30 p.m.
She set Chi Yi’s alarm for the next morning and left a note promising to pick her up for graduation.
Then, she gently woke Tan Jin, bundled her up, and quietly left with her.

—

“President Wen, the test parameters for the Ningxing Province cross-sea bridge still aren’t meeting standards.”

Inside the Wen Corporation headquarters, the director of the design department reported anxiously.

The cross-sea bridge project was Wen Corporation’s flagship venture for the year —
The company was among the first to apply cutting-edge space-grade composite materials to traffic infrastructure, integrating it with intelligent traffic systems.
This project was seen as a trailblazer for the future of bridge engineering.

From the outset, the industry had been rife with controversy.
First, there had been no prior examples of using such materials for bridges.
Second, the bridge itself was colossal — nearly 60 kilometers long — which only compounded the challenges: wind resistance, earthquake proofing, cost efficiency — all factors that made skeptics out of even the most seasoned experts.

Competitor firms had proposed a far more conservative alternative: a subsea tunnel.
If Wen Corporation’s design failed to deliver on schedule, they wouldn’t just face astronomical penalties — the company’s reputation could take a devastating hit.

A model of the current design sat on the table.
Wen Ranqing’s face was unreadable.

Originally, this project had been under Chi Yi’s charge.
It had already been a tight timeline, and midway through, the client had changed demands, requiring the integration of a newly developed chip from a third-party tech company to fully digitize bridge management.

As a result, the original plan had been scrapped — forcing a complete redesign.

While Wen Corporation boasted many top-tier talents, no one else had been as central to the project as Chi Yi, who had nearly single-handedly developed the core systems.
Now, to redo the entire design in the remaining time seemed nearly impossible.

The design director hesitated before finally speaking:
“President Wen, perhaps we could ask Miss Chi…”

“Continue modifying according to the original schedule,” Wen Ranqing interrupted firmly.

“But…”
The director trailed off, distressed.

It was almost certain the current plan couldn’t be delivered on time — the potential losses were staggering.

Since taking over the corporation, Wen Ranqing had ruled with both an iron hand and remarkable compassion, reforming countless outdated internal policies.
Her leadership had earned her genuine respect across the company — and the director’s anxiety now was no act.

Wen Ranqing could have refused the client’s last-minute request — it was, after all, against the original agreement.
But immediately after confirming the technical feasibility of incorporating the new chip, and recognizing the potential benefits for sustainable development, she agreed.
Of course, Wen Corporation wasn’t running a charity; they negotiated additional clauses securing a long-term partnership, effectively locking down a highly lucrative client.

Everything had gone smoothly.
No one could have predicted that the only unexpected variable would be the usually compliant Chi Yi.

The design department director knew about their relationship.
She had already taken a considerable risk suggesting that Wen Ranqing involve Chi Yi — purely from a corporate standpoint.
It was the furthest she could go.

Wen Ranqing closed the file calmly.
“Proceed as discussed. Thank you for your hard work.”

After the director left, Cheng Yuan knocked and entered the office.
He handed over a signed agreement for Wen Ranqing’s review.

“The posts on the school forum have been taken down.
All photos and videos related to the incident have been erased.
There’s no risk of anything leaking.
This is President Zhuang’s signed agreement stating he will not pursue further action.”

“Good,” Wen Ranqing nodded.

It was nearly eleven at night by the time Wen Ranqing descended to the ground floor of the building.

Zhuang Zhencheng had been waiting for a long time.
As soon as he saw her, he stepped forward eagerly.

The woman, wearing a flowing evening gown, barely glanced at him.
She looked down at her watch, hesitated briefly, and turned toward the underground parking garage.

“President Wen, please wait.”

Wen Ranqing gave him a faint, indifferent look.
It took her a moment before she even recognized him.

“Is there something you need?”

Wen Corporation had traded a subsidiary project to secure Zhuang Zhencheng’s agreement —
an arrangement where he promised not to pursue any claims against Chi Yi regarding the conflict between his son and her at school.
Yet Wen Ranqing’s attitude remained distant and cold.

Zhuang Zhencheng had no leverage; Wen Ranqing controlled the situation completely.
He had waited here for hours, trying to seize a chance to negotiate deeper cooperation.

“If this project yields good profits…” he began tentatively.

Wen Ranqing glanced elegantly at her watch —
a small, unhurried motion that somehow carried immense pressure.
Before she even spoke, Zhuang Zhencheng faltered, trailing off awkwardly.

“I’m sorry. I have urgent matters to attend to,” Wen Ranqing said politely but with an expressionless face.
“It’s late. President Zhuang, you should go home and spend some time with your son.”

The man stood there, face pale, watching as she walked away with composed grace.

—

The black Bentley glided through the city streets.
In less than twenty minutes, Wen Ranqing pulled into Xingnan Shangpin.

She wasn’t unfamiliar with this place.
Parking skillfully, she noticed the curtains drawn over the windows of the Chi residence, with a faint light glowing behind them.

Wen Ranqing gripped the steering wheel tightly, then got out.

She had come here a few times before, but Chi Yi had never been home.
Tomorrow was graduation day — she had come to deliver the brooch.

Standing before the door, about to press the bell, Wen Ranqing suddenly hesitated.

For the first time, she felt nervous and at a loss.

Growing up, she had never experienced romance —
no examples from her parents, no lessons from TV dramas, no sweet tropes or clever tricks.

Before, she could rely on the excuse of being a “contract wife” to act with closeness and familiarity.
Now…

Now, she realized just how absurd it was —
The person she had liked for so long, the person who had been by her side, treating her with so much warmth for so many years…
And it was only now, after the divorce, that she dared to try — cautiously, clumsily — to move closer.

Whether Chi Yi still loved her or not, Wen Ranqing couldn’t stop blaming herself for wasting all those years.

The light inside shifted.
Footsteps — unsteady ones — shuffled toward the door.

It took a while to fumble with the handle.
When the door finally opened, Chi Yi, unsteady and dazed, collapsed straight into Wen Ranqing’s arms.

Startled, Wen Ranqing instinctively caught her.

Chi Yi didn’t recognize who it was at first —
But the faint floral scent was familiar — soothing — and intimately tied to Wen Ranqing’s pheromones.

Subconsciously, she nestled closer to the source of the scent,
dark hair brushing against Wen Ranqing’s cheek, sending little tingling sensations down her spine.

Then Chi Yi finally caught the familiar wild rose fragrance — the essence of Wen Ranqing.

Chi Yi didn’t release her own pheromones.
She simply wrapped her long limbs around Wen Ranqing, clinging tightly, occasionally brushing the tip of her nose against the soft skin of Wen Ranqing’s neck.

Heat crept across Wen Ranqing’s face.

Even though she had long since clarified her feelings,
every physical touch with Chi Yi still felt brand new — every sensation vivid, every movement slowed down — making her both shy and secretly, quietly ecstatic.

Her voice trembled slightly as she whispered, “Xiao Yi… it’s me.”

A faint sob in Wen Ranqing’s voice quickly brought Chi Yi back to her senses.
She instinctively leaned away a little, withdrawing her hands from Wen Ranqing’s slender waist, her gaze dazed and fixed on Wen Ranqing’s shoulder.

Wen Ranqing wore a dark green gown.
Her snowy white neck was slender and graceful, the small V-neck design exposing just enough of her collarbone —
and faintly visible there, a delicate, half-moon-shaped bite mark.

Chi Yi, her mind fogged by alcohol, felt a dull ache of self-reproach.
She was awful.
Even after divorce, she couldn’t suppress her feelings — couldn’t help but hurt the one she loved.

Now, Wen Ranqing stood right in front of her — almost like a dream.
Chi Yi wanted to reach out, to touch that spot and ask if it hurt. But she didn’t dare.

Instead, she slowly raised her hand, the pad of her fingertip lightly pressing against the corner of Wen Ranqing’s reddened eye.

“Are you crying again?” she whispered.

Not “President Wen,” cold and distant — but a gentle, sincere question, just like when they were younger, when Chi Yi would hand her candy and ask if it was still bitter.

Her bright, pure black eyes locked onto Wen Ranqing’s face — filled with nothing but her.
Only her.

Wen Ranqing bit her lip, her ears burning red.
All her exhaustion melted away under Chi Yi’s earnest gaze.
She felt nothing but a deep, unshakable peace.

She knew Chi Yi was very drunk — likely confused about everything that was happening.
Tomorrow, Chi Yi would probably wake up puzzled and annoyed, wondering why her ex-wife had appeared at her door crying in the middle of the night.

But right now, Wen Ranqing couldn’t bring herself to lie.

She let out a soft, trembling, almost inaudible, “Mm.”

The sound was as light and soft as the fluff on a fox’s tail, brushing tenderly against the deepest part of the heart — making it unbearably itchy.

Chi Yi’s head lowered a little.
Her fists clenched tightly at her sides.
She dared not touch Wen Ranqing again, her voice low and sincere:

“I’m sorry.”

Of course, it was her fault — making the person she liked cry.
How could she ever allow herself to do that?

Chi Yi’s hair, no longer the sharp, proud strands of daytime, now fell naturally and softly, framing her red-rimmed eyes.
She looked like a small lion cub who had done something wrong — stubbornly trying to apologize.

It had been so long since Wen Ranqing had seen such a soft and vulnerable Chi Yi.
Her heart melted completely.

Old Mr. Chi always used to say, “Only Ranqing can handle that little terror of ours.”
If only he knew — Wen Ranqing never needed to do anything grand.
A simple hug, a few soft pats, and Chi Yi would settle down instantly.

As if by instinct, Wen Ranqing slipped her arms carefully through the space between Chi Yi’s arms and body, wrapping her up gently.
Like anyone at the beginning of a tentative love, she dared not overstep, carefully keeping a respectful distance.

That familiar, comforting embrace — Chi Yi’s emotions, pent-up for too long, almost burst at once.
She teetered on the edge of collapse.

The moment felt so vivid, so real, that she hardly dared to believe it.

Even if it were real could she just pretend, just this once?
Pretend it was the last time she could hold the one she loved?

This time, she promised herself —she would truly, finally, let go.

Someone as good as Wen Ranqing deserved happiness.

No one — not even Wen Ranqing herself — could know the violent struggle happening inside Chi Yi’s heart at that moment.

Only a lingering bitterness remained.

Through the haze of dizziness and a pounding headache,
Chi Yi’s fingertips trembled.

She raised her hand and embraced Wen Ranqing tightly.

Then, she pressed a kiss — soft and light — on Wen Ranqing’s shoulder.

“I’m sorry… It’s all my fault…” she murmured.

Chi Yi had never initiated a kiss with Wen Ranqing before.
Not even once.
Not even during those hot, muddled nights of their heats.

Because she had believed that kissing was something only people truly in love should do.

It was her final boundary — her last shred of self-control.

She had never wanted Wen Ranqing to feel regret.

The kiss was neither heavy nor deep — just a feather-light touch on the thin fabric of Wen Ranqing’s dress.

But on this summer night, it burned hotter than anything.

Wen Ranqing’s eyes quickly misted over with tears, her heart pounding wildly,
her breathing thrown into disarray, surrounded entirely by Chi Yi’s scent.

She had thought it was enough —just enough — when Chi Yi brushed her cheek or mouth by accident.

She had thought she could fill her heart just with that.

She hadn’t expected — that none of it compared to a single, gentle, voluntary kiss from Chi Yi.

Even if it wasn’t on the lips.