The White Moonlight I Chased, the Divorce I Never Expected (GL) - Chapter 29

Their bodies were tightly pressed together, heartbeats racing—neither faster nor slower than the other. Chi Yi simply buried her face into Wen Ranqing’s shoulder and said nothing for a long time.

Chi Yi knew: if she said “no,” Wen Ranqing would back off without hesitation. And yet, her instincts whispered over and over—she could never truly reject Wen Ranqing. But what she didn’t understand was why Wen Ranqing was suddenly treating her so well, spoiling her in ways she couldn’t explain.

It didn’t make sense.

Wen Ranqing, on her part, felt that Chi Yi needed time to adjust to her change in behavior. She didn’t press further—saying too much, too soon, would only scare the little lion away. Instead, she tilted her head slightly and nuzzled gently against Chi Yi’s shoulder, whispering softly, “Don’t cry.”

There it was again…

Chi Yi trembled. Her eyes turned red almost immediately, her chest aching with a sharp sourness.

Without warning, she seized Wen Ranqing’s wrists and pinned her against the wall. Her hand lifted to Wen Ranqing’s jaw, forcing her to look up into her eyes. Her voice came out raspy and rough, laced with bitterness even she didn’t fully recognize:

“Why?”

“Mm…” Wen Ranqing gasped—caught completely off guard by the sudden intensity. Her body, already warm and flushed, now pressed against the cold wall behind her, and a shiver rippled through her limbs. Her long legs weakened, trembling uncontrollably.

“Why did you wait until I made up my mind to leave you—then start being so good to me?”

“Is it only when you can’t have me that you want me?”

Her peach-blossom eyes gleamed with emotion, not giving Wen Ranqing a chance to explain. Without warning, Chi Yi leaned in and kissed the pale skin of her neck—not gently, not lingering—but just hard enough to leave a hickey, a vivid mark just below the gland.

Her coat fell to the ground at their feet.

Any words Wen Ranqing might have said were swallowed back, trapped in her throat. Instinctively, her body arched toward Chi Yi’s touch, her head tilted back, soft gasps slipping from her lips.

It wasn’t just that her gland was sensitive—it was the fact that it was Chi Yi doing this.
Being pinned against the wall, marked by the Alpha she loved—it made her feel overwhelmed with shame and yet utterly willing to surrender.

If it would make Chi Yi feel better, she would gladly let her do anything.

Wen Ranqing tried to steady herself, but her legs were still too weak. The moment Chi Yi’s warmth left her neck, her whole body nearly collapsed. She could only pant softly, cheeks flushed, helpless and embarrassed. Her body was slick with a light sheen of sweat, skin warm and damp.

“Or does President Wen… need me?”

The word need dropped heavily in Chi Yi’s tone.

That soft, slender waist was easily encircled by one hand. Chi Yi took in her disheveled appearance—flushed, panting, trembling. All this from just one mark?

Her brow furrowed deeper.

Her thumb brushed gently against her waist—earning another sharp inhale from Wen Ranqing, who bit down quickly on her lower lip, unable to even meet Chi Yi’s eyes. And yet, there was still space between their bodies, which meant Chi Yi could see every shiver, every expression. Wen Ranqing felt like she was melting under her gaze.

Then she finally opened her mouth, her voice barely above a whisper:

“…Yes. I need you.”

“I never felt like I truly had you before, Xiao Yi… I didn’t know how to make girls happy. I’d never liked anyone before. But I’m trying. I’m learning.”

Pinned like that, the wind brushing against her exposed skin felt even colder. But Wen Ranqing didn’t notice. Her eyes were red at the corners, and though shame lingered in every word, she spoke as calmly as she could. The embarrassment hadn’t gone—but she was slowly getting used to it.

Chi Yi looked at her deeply, heart stirred by the honesty in her words. Just as she was beginning to process it, her phone buzzed in her pocket.

She slowly loosened her grip on Wen Ranqing’s wrists, her brows still drawn tight. The screen showed a call from Song Yan.

It wasn’t a good time to answer.

She declined the call and quickly typed a message: Will get back to you later.

In just those few seconds, Wen Ranqing could barely stay upright even with the wall behind her. Still, she bit her lip and reached for Chi Yi’s free hand, lifting it gently to press a kiss to her wrist.

Her lips were soft—warm and slightly damp. The kiss was light and fleeting, but the sensation lingered. Chi Yi could still feel it tingling against her skin. Her fingers trembled involuntarily.

Wen Ranqing’s face was red as a rose petal, but she still held Chi Yi’s hand softly, murmuring in a tender tone,
“Xiao Yi kissed me just now… so this makes us even.”

The bright red mark on her pale neck was unmistakable, and yet Wen Ranqing seemed almost pleased by it. Her voice was soft and airy, the kind that made one’s heart itch.

Chi Yi couldn’t take it. She needed to retreat. Her voice turned cold, a sharp contrast to just moments before:
“I’m going to work tomorrow. I hope President Wen can be professional at the office—no touching, no hugging. It won’t look good.”

Both of them understood why Chi Zhong’s request made sense. The classified files and precision instruments were all at headquarters, and many areas were only accessible by Chi Yi. There was nothing more to discuss.

Her words made it clear: it was time to go home.

Wen Ranqing picked up Chi Yi’s jacket, carefully folded it, and hugged it to her chest like it was something precious. She nodded obediently,
“I’ll drive carefully. Not too fast. I’ll let you know when I get home.”

“Don’t text. Even if you do, I won’t read it.”
That was the last thing Chi Yi said before turning and walking through the garden gate.

—

Wen Ranqing returned to the house near the Wen Group’s main office—the one Chi Yi used to live in. She had been staying there more frequently lately but had never once stepped inside Chi Yi’s old bedroom.

Once home, she checked the time: 12:40 a.m.

Chi Yi had said, “Don’t send a message—if you do, I won’t read it.”
But didn’t that mean… if Wen Ranqing wanted to message her first, she could?

She stood by the entrance for a moment, biting her lip, thinking for a long time before finally typing:

[I’m home.]

The message sent. When she saw it go through, Wen Ranqing smiled softly to herself—but didn’t dare send anything else for fear of disturbing Chi Yi’s rest.

After removing her makeup and taking a shower, Wen Ranqing sat down at her desk and opened her laptop to handle urgent emails from overseas partners. Her phone stayed quietly on the desk beside her, unmoving.

—

After Wen Ranqing left, Chi Yi took another quick shower. She tried—really tried—not to think about Wen Ranqing. She dried herself off in a hurry and changed into pajamas.

Just as she turned to toss her clothes into the laundry hamper, her eyes landed on the white shirt she had worn earlier. There, faint but unmistakable, was a smudge of red on the collar.

She froze.

Staring at it, unmoving, her hand lifted almost unconsciously to pick up the shirt.

At that moment, her phone began to buzz on the bathroom counter.

“Chi Yi, it’s me. Are you okay?”

It was Song Yan—her second call that night. Her voice was cautious, as if listening closely for background noise or signs of distress.

Chi Yi didn’t put the shirt down. Her brows furrowed slightly as she replied, “Yeah.”

Song Yan asked again, “Did Uncle Chi find out you got divorced?”

Several seconds passed. Chi Yi didn’t respond. Her eyes stayed locked on that pale red stain, her fingers gently brushing over it.

Eventually, she said softly, “He knows.”

“…Oh my God.”

“I happened to be at my parents’ place today. Uncle Chi called and asked if they knew anything about what’s going on between you two. You know how the media is—headline after headline about you and Wen Ranqing. My dad couldn’t make sense of it and asked me. I deflected it at the time, but I just left their place… are you really, okay?”

Even in just those few seconds, Wen Ranqing could barely stand straight against the wall—but still, she gently lifted Chi Yi’s free hand and placed a soft kiss on her wrist.

Her lips were warm, a little damp, barely brushing the skin. It was a quick, featherlight kiss, but the lingering heat sent a shiver down Chi Yi’s spine. Her fingers trembled in response.

Wen Ranqing’s face was crimson, but she held Chi Yi’s hand tightly, voice tender and sweet:
“Xiao Yi kissed me just now… so this makes us even.”

The red hickey on her pale neck stood out starkly, and she seemed… delighted by it. Her voice was soft, silky, brushing gently against Chi Yi’s ears.

Chi Yi couldn’t take it anymore. She wanted to get away, and her tone instantly sharpened:
“I’m coming into work tomorrow. I hope President Wen can behave appropriately at the office. No hugging or clinging—looks bad.”

All the sensitive equipment and classified documents were at headquarters, and many areas required Chi Yi’s personal access. Both of them understood Chi Zhong’s request had been entirely reasonable. Neither mentioned it further.

Chi Yi’s meaning was clear: she was leaving.

Wen Ranqing bent down to pick up the jacket Chi Yi had dropped, folded it neatly, and held it in her arms. She nodded, obedient and docile.
“I’ll drive carefully. Not too fast. I’ll text you when I get home—just to let you know.”

“Don’t bother. I won’t read it.”
That was the last thing Chi Yi said before turning and walking through the gate.

—

Wen Ranqing returned to the house near the Wen Corporation’s headquarters—the one where Chi Yi used to live. She had been staying there often lately, though not once had she stepped inside Chi Yi’s former bedroom.

It was 12:40 a.m. when she walked in.

Chi Yi had said don’t message me, even if you do I won’t read it—but Wen Ranqing figured… maybe that meant she could text her first?

Standing in the foyer, she hesitated for a long moment, bit her lip, and finally typed:

[I’m home.]

When the message was sent, Wen Ranqing smiled a little to herself. Still, she didn’t dare send another—afraid she might disturb Chi Yi’s rest.

After washing up, she sat at her desk to handle emergency emails from overseas partners. Her phone remained silent beside her.

—

Chi Yi took a second shower after Wen Ranqing left. She scrubbed quickly, working hard not to think about her. She dried herself fast, threw on pajamas, and moved around her room briskly.

Then, when she turned toward the hamper, she spotted the shirt she’d worn earlier. A faint red smudge on the white collar.

She froze.

Staring at it, unmoving, her hand instinctively picked it up.

At that moment, her phone buzzed on the bathroom counter.

“Chi Yi? It’s me. Are you okay?”

It was Song Yan—her second call of the night. Her voice was tentative, cautious, clearly trying to read Chi Yi’s mood from the other end of the line.

Chi Yi didn’t put the shirt down. Her brows knit together as she replied evenly,
“I’m fine.”

Song Yan asked again,
“Did Uncle Chi find out about the divorce?”

Several seconds passed before Chi Yi responded. She kept her gaze fixed on the red stain, brushing over it absently with her fingers.

Finally, she replied,
“He knows.”

“Oh my god.”

“I happened to be visiting my parents today. Uncle Chi called and asked if they knew anything about what was going on between you two. You know how the gossip’s been—headline after headline. My dad couldn’t figure it out and asked me. I deflected it at the time, but… I just left their place. Are you really okay?”

Song Yan spoke quickly, clearly worried. She knew Uncle Chi would never actually raise his hand against Chi Yi—but she still feared Chi Yi might be emotionally shaken or that some big conflict had happened.

Chi Yi tossed the shirt into the washing machine and calmly walked back to her room as she spoke:
“I’m fine. Don’t worry. If Uncle Song asks again, just tell the truth.”

“…Okay.”

Chi Yi’s voice was flat—too flat. Song Yan chalked it up to exhaustion after everything she’d been through that day.

“Hey, when exactly did my dad call your dad?” Chi Yi asked.

“Hm… I think it was around four or five in the afternoon.”

“Oh, and by the way—did you get the invite to Mr. Tan’s birthday banquet next Tuesday? From Yitong Group? Huge event, apparently…”

—

After hanging up, Chi Yi lay flat on her back in bed, thoughts tangled and endless. She’d barely reunited with Wen Ranqing and already she felt drained—physically and emotionally. Her temples throbbed, her heartbeat a bit too fast.

She had to admit: Wen Ranqing’s ability to learn… was pretty incredible.

Staring at the ceiling, sleep threatened, but something tugged at the back of her mind.

Her screen lit up.

Wen Ranqing: [I’m home.]

—

The Wen Corporation’s R&D department was on the 22nd floor. That was where Chi Yi’s office was as well. She’d previously commuted between school and the Wen offices, but today was the first time she arrived at work early in the morning.

The cross-sea bridge project was a major multi-departmental effort, and the delay in design had already caused issues. Her return, under the title of “lead designer,” was actually welcomed by many.

Though there were always gossipers in the company, the high-pressure environment of the design department left little time for distractions. Since Chi Yi’s departure, Qu Yinan had taken over the project. Back when Chi Yi was a college sophomore, Qu was already a standout talent among thousands of applicants. Despite skepticism from others, she had admired Chi Yi’s abilities from the beginning.

This morning, Qu Yinan had already received a new source file and was sitting at her desk, typing before the rest of the team had even arrived.

“Ugh, even the company coffee tastes bitter today. Should’ve grabbed a milk carton. There’s a whole bunch stocked in the break room fridge for some reason…”

A male colleague grumbled, scooting his chair over to Qu Yinan and peering at her screen. He adjusted his glasses and said, “This is interesting. Not sure if it’ll work, but…”

He narrowed his eyes. “Actually… it might.”

“Uncommon framework. Not often used,” Qu replied, still focused on her screen. “Chi sent it over.”

The man froze mid-slide.
“Chi? As in Chi Yi?”

“Holy—she’s back?”

Just then, Qu Yinan looked up and spotted Chi Yi approaching from the hallway. Her voice remained even:
“Speak of the devil.”

The design director had been informed early and had asked his assistant to greet her. As Chi Yi walked in, quite a few people recognized her.

Among the senior and mid-level staff, many silently admired President Wen’s boldness—even her ex-wife could be convinced to return. Newer employees, awed by her cold demeanor and striking presence, stared blankly until their colleagues whispered quick explanations.

Qu Yinan smiled and greeted her:
“Chi, long time no see. Welcome back.”

Chi Yi was unfamiliar with most of the others, so she nodded first to Qu Yinan. “Thanks.”

The previously grumbling colleague perked up immediately, spinning around in his chair and flashing a cheerful smile.
“Hi, Chi! I’m Gao Tianzong. Looking forward to working with you!”

Chi Yi: “Nice to meet you.”

After greeting the team, she returned to her office. It looked exactly the same—neat, orderly, filled with equipment and stacks of files. No dust had settled. It was just like she had never left.

She placed her laptop on the desk when—

Knock, knock.
A soft knock at the door.

“Come in.”

—

At the same time, Wen Ranqing found herself uncharacteristically distracted during work hours. Even though Chi Yi had explicitly said she wouldn’t read her message, Wen still couldn’t help but hope—just a little. Unsurprisingly, there was no reply.

Another thing still weighed on her mind: Chi Yi’s rejection of the partnership with Mr. Wen. Even if she was being self-centered, she hoped it wasn’t because Wen Corporation’s name had appeared on the project roster.

Her eyes scanned over documents, but her thoughts kept drifting back to Chi Yi.

Was she adjusting okay today? Did anything go wrong?

To prevent office gossip or unnecessary speculation, Wen Ranqing had made sure no one from her team was stationed near Chi Yi. Other than unavoidable work-related contact, she herself couldn’t even appear near her.

But even messaging her might go unanswered…

She opened her phone and scrolled idly. With some recent new hires in upper management, the office group chat had become surprisingly lively. Because she rarely showed up, many younger employees didn’t even realize who she was—and their messages were full of animated emojis and stickers.

Wen Ranqing scrolled through them, amazed at how expressive some of them were. On impulse, she tapped back into her private chat with Chi Yi.

Was she too stiff? Too formal? Would Chi Yi think so too?

Biting her lip, she started searching online for stickers and emoji packs. There were so many—her ears turned red as she browsed.

Little hearts everywhere. Stickers of cartoon couples cuddling and kissing. Fuzzy animals hugging each other and tumbling around. Wen Ranqing’s ears practically glowed pink. She took a long sip of coffee to cool off.

Just imagining sending these to Chi Yi made her cheeks burn.

Finally, she chose one: a sleepy little cat curled up with a blanket, and sent it.

Then she stared blankly at it for a moment. Only after sending did she notice—it had a sticker name attached.

Her entire face flushed red as she bit her lower lip, unsure what to do.

Wen Ranqing:
[Are you at the office, Xiao Yi?]
[There’s still plenty of time—no need to rush. I believe in you.]
[I won’t be in the office at lunch. Don’t forget to eat. There’s stomach medicine in the drawer if you feel unwell.]
[Trying to act cute.jpg]