Always Chasing My White Moonlight Omega - Chapter 42

“I’m sorry, Yangyang.”

As Lu Yiye’s voice trailed off, Ruan Yang was still somewhat dazed.

She stared at the potted plant on the floor, her fingertips trembling slightly at her sides.

Step by step, she walked over and crouched down. The moment she touched the petals, the rainwater on them cascaded into her hands.

A chill seeped deep into Ruan Yang’s heart.

Xu Zhiyi’s voice still echoed in her ears, sometimes lingering, sometimes clear. Everything from the afternoon dusk felt like a dream.

Raindrops dripped from between her fingers, pattering onto the dormitory floor. Without looking up, Ruan Yang asked, “Did you move it outside?”

Her voice was as cold as ice.

Watching Ruan Yang’s unblinking gaze fixed intently in one direction, Lu Yiye’s shoulders trembled involuntarily.

“Yeah,” Lu Yiye lowered her voice, “I noticed how much you’ve been treasuring this plant lately. Since the weather was nice this afternoon, I thought I’d help you take it out to get some sun. Then I had to go out for something. I never expected it would rain in the evening.”

She took a step closer, her eyes fixed on Ruan Yang’s expression. “I rushed back as soon as I could, only to find the plant in this state.”

Ruan Yang stood up, pulled two tissues from her desk, and wiped her hands. She did so unhurriedly, using the tissues to dry each fingertip one by one.

Her fingers, already slender and fair, now glistened with moisture, appearing unnervingly pale and cold under the light.

Lu Yiye’s legs began to tremble. As she watched Ruan Yang’s eyes widen, her breathing grew increasingly rapid.

“Y-Yangyang?” She took two steps back, her waist bumping into her wooden desk with a jarring sound.

She never imagined Ruan Yang would use her pheromones on her!

Ruan Yang turned and tossed the tissues into the trash bin with a flick of her wrist.

Outside, the heavy rain continued. Suddenly, a flash of lightning streaked across the sky, its white light illuminating her face through the glass window, casting a terrifying gloom in her eyes.

“Yiye,” she said darkly, “You’d better truly not have done this on purpose.”

The moment her words fell, the pheromones of a top-tier Alpha instantly filled the entire dormitory, as if compressing the very air.

Lu Yiye struggled to press a hand against her chest. Her eyes flickered as she attempted to release her own pheromones to counter Ruan Yang’s.

But after a moment of effort, she realized her pheromones were utterly useless against Ruan Yang’s.

This realization caused Lu Yiye’s pupils to contract slightly.

“O-Of course it wasn’t on purpose,” she stammered, her words growing increasingly strained. Her gaze toward Ruan Yang was full of hurt. “You don’t believe me, do you, Yangyang?”

Ruan Yang continued to stare at her coldly.

Lu Yiye let out a bitter laugh and continued, “It’s just a potted plant, Yangyang. Are you really going to let it come between us like this? All these years of friendship does it mean less to you than this plant? Is it not enough to make you trust me?”

Something in her words seemed to strike a chord in Ruan Yang. Her eyelashes fluttered, and in the next second, the overwhelming scent of pine vanished completely from the air.

Her gaze returned to the potted plant. Ruan Yang walked over and gently cradled it in her hands as if it were a treasure.

She pinched the stem of one drooping flower and carefully straightened it along the stem.

Her gaze gradually regained warmth as she looked down, seemingly seeing someone else through the bouquet.

“This isn’t just a pot of flowers,” Ruan Yang murmured softly.

It sounded almost like a sigh.

Then she turned and walked toward the door, cradling the flowers in her arms. Just as she was about to step out of the dormitory, she glanced back at Lu Yiye, her eyes suddenly complex and unreadable.

After a long pause, she finally spoke. “I’ll be very busy this semester and need to move out. I’ll come back in a couple of days to get my things.”

With that, Ruan Yang left. The door clicked shut softly behind her.

Her words drained what little color remained in Lu Yiye’s already pale face.

Her legs weakened, and she leaned heavily on the desk before sinking into a chair.

Her gaze fell on the water stains left by the flowerpot on the floor. Pressing a hand to her chest, her eyes grew distant and somber.

She could tell Ruan Yang had been genuinely angry.

Over a pot of flowers.

Outside, the rain continued to pour heavily. Ruan Yang hailed another taxi and checked into a hotel near the campus, flowers still in hand.

After drying her hair, she sat on the bed and stared blankly at the roses on the windowsill.

Her finger hovered over the chat interface with Xu Zhiyi, her mind replaying the hopeful tone in Xu Zhiyi’s voice from that afternoon.

After a long moment, she finally turned off her phone.

The next day, Ruan Yang dialed the number Wu Jun had given her.

The call connected quickly, and a lazy, casual female voice answered, “Who is it?”

Ruan Yang promptly introduced herself, explaining that she was an employee of Runying Company.

The woman on the other end let out an “Ah,” then remarked, “Took you long enough. Director Wu Jun told me last night that you’d be contacting me, and you’re only calling now?”

Though her tone carried a hint of reproach, her voice was so soft and charming it sounded more like playful teasing, leaving Ruan Yang momentarily at a loss for how to respond.

“Alright, you sound like the quiet type. Fine, I’ll send you an address. Be there in an hour, got it? If you’re late, don’t blame me for scolding you.”

The call ended abruptly. Ruan Yang stood still, staring at her phone for a long moment.

She couldn’t shake the feeling that this kind of willful, domineering personality felt strangely familiar.

Xu Zhiyi often acted the same way.

With a sigh, she headed out to the address she’d been sent.

It was an upscale residential complex with strict access control. The security guard called the resident to confirm Ruan Yang’s identity before allowing her in.

She found the apartment number and pushed the door open it was unlocked. A figure lay sprawled on the sofa.

Noticing her arrival, an assistant nearby stood up and called out, “Sister Fangxuan, she’s here.”

Hearing this, the woman on the sofa sat up, resting her arm on the back of the couch as she unabashedly scrutinized Ruan Yang.

Ruan Yang, in turn, quietly observed the woman before her.

Shi Fangxuan, ten years in the industry, having played every type of villainous supporting female role imaginable.

Some had speculated why, over the past decade, Shi Fangxuan had almost exclusively been cast as the “bad woman.” The unanimous conclusion always came down to her looks.

Shi Fangxuan was famously striking, the kind of beauty that, in her youth, suggested she’d stop at nothing to get what she wanted. Now, with age, she still carried an air of intensity, as if she might pull out her wallet and throw money at you at any moment.

Combined with Shi Fangxuan’s naturally flamboyant and domineering temper, these traits made her the perfect embodiment of a classic villainess.

However, playing the villainess too often tends to alienate the audience, which was precisely why Shi Fangxuan, despite her striking looks, had never achieved widespread fame.

One of the reasons Ruan Yang dared to approach Shi Fangxuan was her certainty that no actress would want to be typecast in the same role forever.

Shi Fangxuan naturally noticed Ruan Yang’s gaze. She curled her lips into a smile and said, “You look quite young. Are you still in school?”

When she smiled, her features became even more pronounced, stirring a strange sense of familiarity in Ruan Yang.

“I’m a junior in college,” Ruan Yang replied, stepping closer to Shi Fangxuan. The closer she got, the stronger the resemblance in their eyes and brows became.

Even the assistant standing nearby was taken aback. Her gaze shifted back and forth between Shi Fangxuan and Ruan Yang as she murmured in astonishment, “Fangxuan, don’t you think this young lady looks a bit like you?”

Hearing this, Shi Fangxuan finally focused her attention on Ruan Yang’s face, particularly her eyes and brows.

She frowned. There did seem to be some resemblance.

But she had never given birth to a daughter.

Ruan Yang walked right up to Shi Fangxuan and placed the script on the coffee table in front of her.

“Senior Shi,” Ruan Yang began, deciding on this form of address, “this is a new script from our company. We’d like you to take a look at it first.”

This statement reminded Shi Fangxuan of the main reason Ruan Yang had come. She shifted her gaze from Ruan Yang’s face to the script.

As she flipped through the pages, Shi Fangxuan’s frown gradually eased. She couldn’t help but read a few more lines, but when she looked up at Ruan Yang, she feigned indifference.

“You came to me because you want me to take on a role, I assume,” she said casually. “But from what I’ve seen of the female lead, not only is the character vastly different from me, but the age alone doesn’t suit me.”

“It’s not the female lead,” Ruan Yang reached out and flipped to the page featuring the secondary couple. “It’s the female lead’s aunt.”

She glanced at Shi Fangxuan’s visibly surprised yet still unenthusiastic expression and continued, “This character has a fully developed subplot and is very well-rounded. Most importantly, her design and portrayal are exceptionally compelling.”

Ruan Yang wasn’t wrong, but Shi Fangxuan was still curious. “If this role is so good and so positive, why come to me? You should know, I’m the go-to actress for villainesses.”

She stood up. “Countless people online have declared that I’ll never play anything other than a villainess.”

In theory, Ruan Yang had plenty of polished, diplomatic responses to this question, any of which would have pleased Shi Fangxuan.

But after a moment of careful thought, she said earnestly, “It’s probably just a feeling. Have you ever had that moment where you feel a certain role was made for a specific person?”

Her words left Shi Fangxuan momentarily stunned.

Ruan Yang pressed on, “Don’t you want to prove those people wrong? This role is unlike any you’ve played before. If you’re willing to trust me, perhaps this character could take your career to new heights.”

No actor could resist hearing that a role was tailor-made for them.

Shi Fangxuan studied the young woman before her, whose resemblance to her was uncanny, for a few more moments.

After a brief silence, her fingers, which had been lightly tapping her arm, stilled.

She suddenly asked, “You were staring at me earlier, do I remind you of someone?”

It was a strange question, but Ruan Yang nodded.

“You look a lot like my mom.”

Through the camera lens, the resemblance hadn’t been obvious, but now, face to face, Ruan Yang realized this woman bore a sixty to seventy percent likeness to her mother. Especially when she smiled though there were differences, Shi Fangxuan carried a more distinct charm.

Shi Fangxuan, however, thought Ruan Yang was just making it up to flatter her. She chuckled lightly, waved the script in her hand, and stood up to head upstairs.

“Then I’ll wait and see just how high this ‘step’ really is.”

Only after Shi Fangxuan’s figure disappeared up the staircase did the assistant approach and nudge Ruan Yang, grinning. “Fangxuan jie agreed!”

After arranging a time to discuss the details with the assistant later, Ruan Yang left the neighborhood.

It was still early, and with no morning classes, Ruan Yang wandered the streets for a while before spotting a flower shop.

She went inside and showed the shopkeeper a photo of the rose plant that had been ruined by the rain the night before.

“No saving it, no saving it. It’s drenched like this, petals almost all fallen,” the shopkeeper waved dismissively.

“Really no other way?” Ruan Yang seemed unwilling to give up. “This plant is very important to me.”

“Important and you let it get soaked like this?” The shopkeeper sighed repeatedly. “You’re thinking of saving it now, but why couldn’t you have been more careful yesterday afternoon to keep it out of the rain?”

Ruan Yang suddenly fell silent.

She lowered her head and took a long time to accept the reality.

A cool breeze after the rain drifted into the shop, rustling the flowers covering the floor, their vibrant colors filling Ruan Yang’s vision.

As if remembering something, she looked at the shopkeeper with renewed hope.

“Then, may I ask, do you still sell this type of rose here?”

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