The Pursuit of Love After Divorcing My Cold Omega - Chapter 2

“I’m going to marry her.”

Yu Kunian owned her own apartment in Lihua City, but she occasionally returned to that cold house she called home—today was one of those days.

Perhaps it was due to the unexpected failure of her first blind date, or perhaps it was her dismissive attitude; regardless, Yu Kunian had been ordered to return home before dinner.

As she drove into the residential area just a street away from the Alpha-Omega Joint Committee, her expression was sour. She sat in the underground parking lot for a long time before finally killing the engine and taking the elevator up.

By 6:00 PM, dinner was already on the table. The television in the living room was turned off just as Yu Kunian pushed the door open.

“You’re back,” a flat voice called out from the dining table. Yu Kunian kept her back to them as she shrugged off her coat, offering only a curt “Mhm.”

The house’s decor hadn’t changed in years. Various trophies awarded by the Committee were displayed in a transparent cabinet next to the TV—the family’s greatest source of pride.

The two people at the table were already seated, waiting for her. However, Yu Kunian simply turned around and leaned lazily against the back of a sofa. “I’ve already eaten,” she lied.

She hadn’t had a single drop of water since leaving Lihua University.

“Niannian—”

“Sit down and eat.”

Of the two women at the table, Yang Jin—the only Omega present—tried to soften her tone with a helpless plea. She was immediately cut off by the Alpha beside her, who spoke with an indisputable, commanding authority. The Alpha stared at Yu Kunian with eyes full of oppressive intensity, looking as though she might erupt into a harsh reprimand at any second.

Although all the phone calls and coordination today had been handled by Yang Jin, the blind date had been entirely orchestrated by the Alpha sitting at the head of the table: Yu Dai.

Yu Kunian didn’t budge. She met the other’s gaze, her grip tightening slightly, yet her face remained as impassive as ever. She had never gotten along with Yu Dai.

“If there’s something to say, just say it. I’m busy and don’t have time for dinner,” Yu Kunian said coldly, showing no fear as she met the Alpha’s simmering gaze.

“Yu Kunian.” Yu Dai slapped her chopsticks onto the table. The sound wasn’t loud, but it carried a weight that would make most people’s legs go weak.

“Don’t bring that Committee leadership style home with you,” Yu Kunian sneered. “I’m not your subordinate, and I won’t follow your every whim.”

Seeing the two on the verge of another blowout, Yang Jin stood up and walked toward Yu Kunian. “Niannian, don’t be stubborn. Sit down first.”

“I’m busy. What exactly is this about?” Yu Kunian asked, her brow furrowed with palpable impatience toward Yang Jin’s mediation.

The relationship between Yu Kunian and her family had long been a hollow shell. It had started when she presented herself as an Alpha; since then, her life had been restricted and micromanaged. Under such strict discipline, Yu Kunian had developed a severe rebellious streak.

Yu Dai wanted her to join the Committee and compete for the position of Chairperson, but Yu Kunian’s choices flew directly in the face of those wishes. On the day Yu Kunian decided to start her own company, Yu Dai had flown into the greatest rage of her life and immediately cut off her daughter’s financial support, hoping to force her into submission.

While Yang Jin wasn’t as forceful as Yu Dai, she had never truly respected Yu Kunian’s choices either. Ultimately, returning home to see her two mothers only filled Yu Kunian with a sense of repulsion.

“Niannian, there are a few other Omegas with suitable backgrounds and ages. You should meet them all this week. Pick a suitable one so we can discuss marriage arrangements as soon as possible,” Yang Jin sighed, holding out several photographs.

Yu Kunian didn’t take them. She merely glanced down at them, her fingers twitching over her phone.

She thought of the person she had seen in the piano room. She wasn’t sure if that person was an Alpha or an Omega, but she spoke anyway: “I already have someone in mind. No need.”

Yang Jin asked, “Who? What’s their name? What is their family background?”

“You don’t need to worry about that.” Yu Kunian grabbed her coat, preparing to leave.

Yu Dai’s voice rang out again. “I will never agree to a match with someone who is not your equal.”

Yu Kunian paused for a moment, her eyes lingering on Yu Dai before she turned away without a word. It was unclear if the warning had even registered.

Yu Dai knew her daughter—at least, she had guessed her current mindset.

Every trip home was unpleasant, a reality Yu Kunian still hadn’t grown accustomed to. She felt physically and mentally drained. Back in her car, she sat with her eyes closed for a long time to steady herself. Amidst her chaotic thoughts, the encounter in the piano room flickered through her mind.

Yu Kunian half-opened her eyes. The parking lot was bright, but her gaze was dark and brooding, a heavy silence nearly swallowing her whole. Exhaling a breath of stagnant air, she opened the photo gallery on her phone and stared at the picture she had taken that day.

As her thumb brushed the screen, she seemed lost in thought.

After a while, she sent the photo to a contact named Jiang Qiu, adding a message: Help me investigate this person. They should be teachers at Lihua University. I’m coming to your place now.

Without waiting for a reply, she started the car and drove away from that suffocating place.

When she arrived at her destination, Jiang Qiu was already waiting outside. This small bistro, located on a street corner, was Jiang Qiu’s only business. It opened two years ago and the business was modest, but profit wasn’t Jiang Qiu’s primary concern. The current state of things suited her just fine.

The sky had darkened. Jiang Qiu stood by the pedestrian countdown timer at the intersection, her dark eyes staring ahead as if she were daydreaming.

She was dressed simply in a t-shirt, shorts, and black boots, with a lollipop in her mouth. Her short hair was unstyled and a bit messy. Seeing Yu Kunian, she raised a hand in a wave, the beads on her wrist clacking together.

As Yu Kunian crossed the street, Jiang Qiu crunched down on the candy, tossed the stick aside, and offered a casual smile. “I can’t even remember the last time you came to see me.”

Jiang Qiu was Yu Kunian’s long-time Alpha friend. After graduation, Jiang Qiu hadn’t stayed in Lihua City, only returning in recent years. They had stayed in touch, though their schedules rarely aligned, so Yu Kunian usually just dropped by the bistro.

Yu Kunian sighed helplessly. “When did you cut your hair again?”

Jiang Qiu instinctively touched the ends of her hair, which barely reached her earlobes. After a moment’s thought, she said, “About half a month ago. I get uncomfortable whenever it starts getting long.”

The two of them headed up to the second floor. The bistro wasn’t very crowded yet. Yu Kunian picked a random seat. A small lamp on the table flickered on, allowing them to see each other’s expressions in the dim lighting.

After Yu Kunian ordered a cocktail, her gaze drifted to Jiang Qiu’s phone screen. Displayed there was a professional half-length portrait of the person she had seen in the piano room.

There was a long introduction below, but Yu Kunian’s eyes remained fixed on the name next to the photo: Song Wenzhi.

“She was easy to find; she’s very famous at Lihua University,” Jiang Qiu said, getting straight to the point. “She’s a specially appointed professor in charge of the university’s new Alpha-Omega Joint College. When the college was planned a few years ago, Song Wenzhi was the first choice to lead it. I’ve heard her interviews; she has her own independent ideas about the concept of AO integration, some of which even go beyond the Committee’s own views. A top-tier talent, truly.”

Yu Kunian only asked, “She’s Omega?”

Jiang Qiu nodded. “An Omega so famous that she consistently tops the ‘Outstanding Teacher’ list at Lihua University—often the only Omega in the top ten.”

Song Wenzhi hadn’t worked in Lihua City previously. However, after being invited by Lihua University multiple times, she eventually accepted the “hot potato” position that others were too afraid to touch.

After all, a few years ago, there were few precedents for Alphas and Omegas coexisting. The new college at Lihua University was established in response to the government’s call to achieve harmony between Alphas and Omegas, promote gender integration, and break through physiological limitations.

Before this, any activities involving Alphas and Omegas were strictly separated to avoid “incidents.”

Due to the unique nature of Omega pheromone interference, the former Omega Association had always opposed AO coexistence. Lihua City had long maintained an “AO Segregation” policy, which often placed Omegas in a disadvantaged competitive position.

Data from the past five years showed that, excluding Betas, Alphas accounted for over 70% of the workforce. As for Omegas, most were placed under “protection,” rarely participating in social labor. They generally entered government enterprises that were completely isolated from Alphas and offered numerous leaves. It could be said they accumulated the fewest working hours and contributed the least to the economy.

This policy had lasted nearly twenty years. Recently, however, the Omega Association was gradually phased out and disbanded. The introduction of the Alpha-Omega Joint concept sought to dismantle many of these unreasonable arrangements and establish a new ideology.

The government began encouraging Omega participation in society and actively recruited talent who could provide effective solutions for the AO integration concept.

Song Wenzhi was an Omega who stood out among the sea of Alphas. Not only was she brilliant in her academic field, but her ideas were also remarkably striking. Her name had been gaining traction for some time.

Even before the government issued the new policies, Song Wenzhi already possessed a sense of diversified Omega awareness. This was why she was so famous at Lihua University.

Since taking over the new college, Song Wenzhi had developed strategies for almost every problem that arose, and she continued to refine them. However, implementing AO coexistence was no easy feat. Although Lihua University tried its best to protect her college, dissenting voices still broke through, and some extremists even came to cause trouble. To a certain extent, perfect AO coexistence had yet to be achieved.

Song Wenzhi had been conducting professional pheromone training for her students. The progress was slow but steady. Everyone could see her dedication and her confidence in the Joint College. It was fair to say that she was an idol to most of the students there.

However, Song Wenzhi was famously cold and maintained a strong sense of distance. Her students kept a respectful teacher-student boundary and didn’t dare approach her casually. It was also rumored that several Alpha teachers from other departments had tried to woo her, but they were all defeated by her prolonged coldness and eventually vanished into the background.

To outsiders, the common evaluation of Song Wenzhi was: “Beautiful, but impossibly unapproachable.”

Hearing this, Yu Kunian’s interest only deepened. She scanned the long list of honors and achievements in Song Wenzhi’s profile, but she only remembered how well Song Wenzhi played the piano—though the introduction didn’t mention a single word about it.

The music seemed to have entered her heart, its lingering notes resurfacing and demanding to be remembered.

“Let me gossip for a second,” Jiang Qiu said, taking a sip of her drink and propping her chin on her hand as she looked at Yu Kunian. “What are President Yu’s thoughts on the famous Professor Song?”

Yu Kunian picked up her glass and clinked it against Jiang Qiu’s. Then, she raised a suggestive eyebrow and said:

“I’m going to marry her.”