The White Moonlight I Chased, the Divorce I Never Expected (GL) - Chapter 28

The wind rattled the windowpanes as it pounded against the glass. Sitting upright in bed, Chi Yi stared at her phone screen for a long while before abruptly getting up and heading to the door. Halfway there, she turned back, opened her wardrobe, and pulled out a long-sleeved jacket to drape over her shoulders.

Chi Yi lived on the second floor, separate from Chi Zhong. Still, she couldn’t help but glance in the direction of his bedroom—her heartbeat louder than her footsteps.

She stepped outside. The ripples in the koi pond overlapped endlessly, and the red maple leaves had blanketed the yard. The wind, strong as a level-seven gale, slapped hard against her face, making her frown as she quickened her pace and exited the gate.

The wind was fierce, whipping up dust and debris that blurred the view ahead. Wen Ranqing’s car was parked at the far end of this row of stand-alone villas—not far from Chi Yi’s home. But she had deliberately chosen a corner where Chi Yi could spot her immediately upon stepping outside.

Her hair had already come loose earlier in the evening, and now the gusts had made it even messier. The hem of her long dress was also blown up slightly. Wen Ranqing quickly bent to smooth it down, then looked up—just in time to see Chi Yi.

Wen Ranqing, usually so composed and graceful, stood there with her dark hair flying wildly around her face, her elegant black dress visibly dusted with grit. She didn’t care. She clutched her phone tightly in both hands, terrified of missing even a single message.

It had been nearly two hours since she left the Chi residence at 10 p.m. Had Wen Ranqing really been standing here like this the entire time?

Otherwise, how could she have messaged Chi Yi so perfectly timed—right when the bedroom light had gone off?

Chi Yi’s heart pounded like a drum.

Without thinking, she wrapped her jacket around Wen Ranqing tightly, frowning as she used one hand to try and tame her unruly hair. But the wind was relentless—no matter what she did, the strands kept flying.

“Hold it yourself,” Chi Yi said, a little sharply, then used both hands to gather her hair and quickly tie it into a low ponytail.

Wen Ranqing didn’t take offense at the unexpectedly stern tone. She just shrank her shoulders inward, gripping the edges of the jacket with both hands. Between them, Chi Yi’s slightly labored breathing was audible against her ears and neck.

The warmth spread to her ears, making her blush, but she steadied herself quickly. In a soft voice, she said:

“Xiao Yi… don’t run out so fast next time.”

Chi Yi, just finishing the ponytail, paused for a moment before stepping back and snapping, “Who was running?”

“…Alright.”
If Xiao Yi says she wasn’t running, then she wasn’t, Wen Ranqing silently agreed in her mind.

She sensed that if she said any more, the little lion might bristle. She still couldn’t tell if Chi Yi was upset about what happened earlier that evening.

But this softness—this gentleness—made Chi Yi feel a pang of guilt. She cleared her throat and said, “Why hasn’t President Wen gone home yet?”

She hadn’t called her “President Wen” all night, only using it now. When she wanted something, she’d drop the formality. But the moment they were alone—outside Uncle Chi’s view—she threw that cold, distant title right back in. Truly unreasonable.

Wen Ranqing didn’t dare admit that the single, barely audible “sister” Chi Yi had said earlier had made her heart skip wildly. Now, hearing “President Wen” again, she knew Chi Yi was deliberately reestablishing boundaries between them.

And yet—despite trying to push her away—Chi Yi still worried about whether she’d get home safely.
Still unreasonable.
Still unfair.
But Wen Ranqing couldn’t help it. She loved her so much.

She bit her lower lip. When she finally did speak, heat rushed to her cheeks. Her voice was brief, direct, and clear:

“I was worried about you.”

Wen Ranqing had been worried that Chi Yi might spend the whole night sleepless and in tears—and that no one would be there to comfort her. She couldn’t bear the thought of Chi Yi feeling that much pain with no one to lean on.

Even though Uncle Chi wasn’t an unreasonable person—and any parent would’ve taken this matter seriously—Wen Ranqing simply couldn’t stop herself from wanting to side with Chi Yi. No matter what, she didn’t want her to be upset.

She hadn’t said it outright, but the concern in her eyes was obvious.

Chi Yi’s heart skipped a beat. Her throat tightened, and her voice came out a little hoarse:
“If I really am upset… will your concern suddenly make me feel better?”

Even Chi Yi hadn’t realized she was beginning to follow Wen Ranqing’s logic, asking the question with an almost earnest sincerity.

Wen Ranqing gave a soft, almost teasing hum of disagreement. Her eyes glowed with warmth, gentle as water. One hand clutched the jacket tightly, while the other reached up—awkwardly but determinedly—to pat Chi Yi’s head. The motion was a little strained, but she managed to reach.

“I’d pat you, and I’d stay with you. Having someone with you feels better than being alone, doesn’t it?”

As if realizing something, Wen Ranqing didn’t wait for a reply. She slipped into Chi Yi’s arms, pulling the jacket around both of them.

The coat was oversized, but it still couldn’t quite cover Chi Yi’s bare shoulders. Startled by the sudden movement, Chi Yi lowered her head—and immediately saw smooth, pale collarbones and Wen Ranqing’s softly parted lips just inches away. Before she could say anything, Wen Ranqing’s face was already flushed red.

“Xiao Yi… are you not wearing anything underneath?”

Her voice was gentle and soft—but the one speaking it seemed even more flustered than the person not wearing anything. The wind rustled their clothes, and with it, Wen Ranqing’s composure was scattered like fallen leaves.

Chi Yi’s beauty was quietly devastating—every feature left a mark in Wen Ranqing’s heart. Now, with her ears tinged red, Wen Ranqing could feel those old, reckless thoughts stirring again. She wanted to see that blush deepen.

In the chaotic wind, a layer of tension wrapped around them—suddenly intimate, almost too much.

Chi Yi had meant to stop her before she crossed a line, but now that she had spoken, she was the one flustered. She never slept in heavy clothing, but how was she supposed to know Wen Ranqing would stand in the wind wearing heels for two hours—would message her the moment the lights went off—would come so close just to say things like this?

Still clinging to her reason, Chi Yi said, “Then… I’ll go back inside now.”

Her voice was still sharp and clear. Wen Ranqing, embarrassed by her own impure thoughts, suddenly wanted to disappear. She hadn’t done anything, and yet her breath came quick and uneven. She lowered her face, shoulders shrinking slightly.

Then, the hand she had respectfully kept at Chi Yi’s waist trembled slightly.

Chi Yi’s heart softened. On impulse, she added:
“Well… now that I’ve seen you, I do feel a bit better.”

That sweet, clinging tone from childhood had faded over the years, replaced by teenage restraint. Later came her carefully controlled poise as a married woman—quiet, cool, and seemingly indifferent. Wen Ranqing couldn’t remember the last time Chi Yi had spoken in such an easy, unburdened tone. Her eyes burned.

She sniffed softly. There was still something else she needed to say—though she feared it would irritate Chi Yi the moment she heard it.

To prevent her from walking away before they could have a real conversation, Wen Ranqing didn’t loosen her hold—instead, she drew her in a little closer.

“Today, it was my fault for not communicating properly with Uncle Chi,” she said gently. “Tomorrow, I’ll go visit him and talk it through. You don’t need to go to the company yet. This can be worked out.”

She was referring, of course, to the cross-sea bridge redesign—the very thing Chi Yi had already had doubts about. And now that Wen Ranqing had finally brought it up, there was no way Chi Yi could refuse.

She was even starting to get used to this kind of closeness—so much so that she didn’t immediately notice how soft and warm Wen Ranqing felt in her arms. Instead, she asked quietly:

“Why didn’t you tell me something this important sooner?”

Wen Ranqing sensed the shift in Chi Yi’s tone and paused. Guilt flickered in her chest.

Wen Ranqing sniffled softly. “I didn’t want to force you into doing something you didn’t want to do.”

“But… I’m sorry. I forgot that design was something you actually loved… I’m sorry… for making the decision for you.”

As she spoke, Chi Yi noticed that Wen Ranqing’s entire body was trembling—warm and soft, her breath hot against the night air, and her voice full of genuine regret. She was blaming herself for not being able to find a way that made everything work.

This woman… truly…

How could anyone make everything perfect just to keep her happy?

Chi Yi was still reeling from the fact that the amount of money in question—enough for an ordinary family to live comfortably for the rest of their lives—seemed to mean absolutely nothing to Wen Ranqing if it didn’t bring her happiness.

And yet, Wen Ranqing had misunderstood. Chi Yi had indeed agreed to revise the plan voluntarily. But the truth was—design wasn’t her passion. Not really.

Or at least, not something she’d ever truly loved. She had chosen to study civil engineering because of Wen Ranqing. She had admired Mr. Wen because Wen Ranqing admired him. It was through Wen Ranqing’s praise, little by little on her design drafts, that she found any joy in the process at all.

But she had never told Wen Ranqing these things. She’d assumed Wen Ranqing, being so smart, would have seen through it.

She never imagined… this woman could be so clueless, so adorably mistaken—still thinking Chi Yi had loved it on her own.

Chi Yi felt the wall she’d spent so long building around her heart start to crack under the sheer tenderness of this moment. She clenched her fists, the joints in her fingers popping slightly from the force.

Wen Ranqing bit her lip and slowly raised her head. When she saw the redness in Chi Yi’s eyes and the taut line of her jaw, her long-restrained hand moved instinctively—reaching up to gently cup Chi Yi’s face.

“I’ve made you upset again… I’m sorry, Xiao Yi.”

That face—tears spilling down her cheeks, and yet still speaking so softly and kindly—stabbed at Chi Yi’s heart with a pain that was dense and inescapable.

She couldn’t hold back anymore.

Her stiff arms slowly lifted. She took Wen Ranqing’s wrist, gently lowered her hand, then grabbed the edge of her coat and tugged it to signal her to put it on properly.

Wen Ranqing was still sniffling, caught off guard by the movement. She obeyed instinctively, slipping her arms into the sleeves like an obedient child, and even burrowed in a little deeper.

Chi Yi looked at her—at her red eyes, her flushed lips—and felt a strange kind of restlessness stir in her chest. Not irritation. Not confusion. But heat.

She raised her fingers and gently wiped the tears from Wen Ranqing’s cheek.

And for the first time—entirely willingly—she pulled Wen Ranqing into her arms.

Just like that, her heart calmed.

Word by word, Chi Yi said,
“Stop apologizing to me. You don’t need to.”

“And stop being so good to me.”

“No matter what the reason is.”

“I’m scared I’ll get greedy… that I won’t be able to stop… that I’ll want more.”

And you know it too. I already divorced you. There’s no going back for us.
She added that last sentence silently, in her heart.

It wasn’t even a heavy statement. But when it came to Wen Ranqing, she just… couldn’t bring herself to say it out loud.

When they divorced, it hadn’t felt so heavy. For Chi Yi, Wen Ranqing had never loved her—so there was no real difference between before and after marriage.

But in these recent days, as Wen Ranqing deliberately drew closer to her, Chi Yi couldn’t deny her own desires anymore. Her care for Wen Ranqing, her love, always found a way to slip through—uncontrolled.

She just liked her. Deeply. Intensely. The more she uncovered the real Wen Ranqing, the more addicted she became.

Divorce was supposed to help her let go. But at this rate, Wen Ranqing might really be talking her back into it.

Even so, getting back together was never something Chi Yi had considered. Wen Ranqing might be able to force herself into love, but she couldn’t force Wen Ranqing to do the same. Her rational mind told her to let go. Her impulsive heart told her to surrender to the warmth.

In the midst of all this chaos, only holding Wen Ranqing like this gave her peace.

Wen Ranqing’s breath hitched—she froze in shock, hesitating.

Does Chi Yi… still want this?

Maybe it wasn’t about Chi Yi being greedy. Maybe it was her being afraid to admit what she truly wanted. She had promised herself she’d wait, but clearly, she couldn’t.

She wasn’t afraid of Chi Yi blaming her. She was only afraid that Chi Yi would be hurt by her again—that she would take all her feelings and throw them away.

If Chi Yi still wanted her… then Wen Ranqing could finally breathe.
Just this one hug tonight already felt like something out of a dream—closer than she ever dared to wish for. Even a simple moment like this was precious beyond words.

She tried to lift her head, but Chi Yi’s hand rested gently on the back of it, keeping her close.

So, she stayed there, her breath warm against Chi Yi’s shoulder, and whispered:

“You can always be greedy with me.”