The Pursuit of Love After Divorcing My Cold Omega - Chapter 67

She had lost Song Wenzhi.

Hearing this, Yu Kunian raised her head and looked toward Jiang Qiu. “Going abroad?”

“That’s right.” Jiang Qiu had also learned of this by chance. “You can go to Lihua University to ask around; she has already resigned.”

Yu Kunian hadn’t expected Song Wenzhi to leave Lihua City so completely, departing with such resolve, even appearing to be in a hurry. She stood up, raising her hand to grasp the wedding ring she had fashioned into a necklace. Her breathing grew ragged, and she froze for a long moment before stepping toward the door.

Jiang Qiu’s original intention was to suggest that since Song Wenzhi had moved on, Yu Kunian shouldn’t dwell on it either. A marriage without an emotional foundation was bound to end sooner or later; one could feel regret, but there was no need for obsession. However, Yu Kunian clearly did not see it that way.

The Alpha hurried out the door. Yu Dai had left her phone outside; Yu Kunian picked it up and scanned through it. Amidst a long list of unimportant messages, she quickly captured a message from Song Wenzhi.

It was a very simple sentence: The money you used to help me pay off my debts, I have transferred back to you in installments.

During those few days of her rut, Song Wenzhi had finished paying off those debts. With a little thought, it was obvious that Xia Weichi had helped. Yu Kunian’s footsteps faltered. She looked at the text message, her fingertips trembling slightly. She stared at the bank notifications from those few days, and her mouth inadvertently filled with bitterness.

She understood. Song Wenzhi had completely severed all ties with her.

In that moment, Yu Kunian felt a pain in her heart that was beyond words—an agonizing discomfort. She wanted to reply, but after typing for a long time, she didn’t know what to send. She didn’t want everything to end with a simple “Okay.” She wanted to speak a few more words to Song Wenzhi, yet she didn’t know what there was left to say…

Scolding hot tears suddenly fell, splashing onto the phone screen. The Alpha subconsciously closed her eyes, turned off the screen, and put the phone in her pocket. Yu Kunian raised her hand to wipe away the tear stains. When she opened her eyes again, even her stride was somewhat staggering. She took a deep breath and said to Jiang Qiu, “Go to Lihua University.”

Seeing her shed tears was rare enough for Jiang Qiu. In all the years they had known each other, ever since Yu Kunian had differentiated, she had never seen the Alpha cry. Seeing it now truly astonished Jiang Qiu, and it forced her to wonder if Yu Kunian was different from what she had imagined.

Could they have “played house” until it became real?

What if this “act” was actually real, but the performer was simply unaware?

After stealing a few more glances at Yu Kunian, Jiang Qiu fell silent. She had always believed that Yu Kunian’s recent reactions were due to the failure of the marriage and distress over an unexpected accident within her plans. She had never considered another possibility.

Jiang Qiu didn’t speak for the rest of the drive. They drove to Lihua University and confirmed the news that Song Wenzhi had indeed resigned. After running into Director Qin, the situation regarding Song Wenzhi going abroad was also verified.

One last time, Yu Kunian went to the bottom of the staff dormitory building. She stood in her usual spot, looking up toward the eighth floor, remaining silent throughout. Perhaps at this moment, Yu Kunian fully realized that the Omega had left her world. Even if the scent of coconut candy pheromones remained, the void in her heart still dragged her into an endless abyss.

In Lihua City, she would never find that figure again. Even if she waited intentionally, it would ultimately become a hollow wish.

Yu Kunian thought to herself: she had changed. From the moment she met Song Wenzhi, she had changed.

Her thoughts were no longer just about the company and her career; her gaze was occupied by Song Wenzhi, pulled by the Omega. When they married, she had been willing.

In these passing days, not only had she failed to cast Song Wenzhi from her mind, but she had instead realized an uncontrollable longing. Yu Kunian withdrew her gaze, unable to say a word.

She had lost Song Wenzhi.

Jiang Qiu had thought that the news about Song Wenzhi would make Yu Kunian sober up, but the effect was clearly the opposite. Although she took the Alpha to the charity gala, Yu Kunian’s state of mind did not improve.

Yu Kunian found a random place to sit, hiding herself away from the bustle of the party. Jiang Qiu sat beside her, truly worried for her. “Kunian, you need to look on the bright side, okay? Many of the bosses here are suitable to become partners. This is a rare opportunity.”

“I’m not in the mood,” Yu Kunian said in a low voice.

Jiang Qiu couldn’t help but pinch the bridge of her nose. “What’s happened has happened. No matter how much you wallow, it’s useless. Song Wenzhi has left Lihua City; are you going to stay like this forever?”

“I just want to understand…” Yu Kunian paused for a moment. She picked up the glass in front of her and downed it in one go, her gaze growing incredibly deep. “The more I feel she isn’t important, the more I find I can’t let her go. I can’t stop thinking about her.”

She was in pain, not because of a failed marriage, but because that Omega was Song Wenzhi.

Jiang Qiu did not answer her; perhaps only Yu Kunian herself knew the answer to that question. Who could truly understand the heart of the Alpha before her? Yu Kunian had once viewed marriage only as a bargaining chip for profit. To the Alpha, marriage was a means to an end—a tool she had to master. But now, she had become listless because of that marriage, which meant that in Yu Kunian’s heart, the weight of this union was very heavy.

But fundamentally, Jiang Qiu couldn’t be sure—or rather, she didn’t dare to be sure—whether Yu Kunian had changed that deep-rooted ideology.

“I can’t give you any advice,” Jiang Qiu pondered for a long time before saying, “You and I are different.”

But she knew why Song Wenzhi had left. She knew that Song Wenzhi’s departure was because she wanted to cut off everything in Lihua City and start over; the Omega wanted to erase every trace of Yu Kunian’s presence from her side.

Perhaps it was a mistake from the beginning. Yu Kunian’s own confusion was one of the fundamental reasons for Song Wenzhi’s departure. Jiang Qiu patted Yu Kunian on the shoulder and said, “Forget it.”

Forgetting could bury the pain; it was a way of escaping, but also the only choice left.

“I don’t want to,” Yu Kunian said, looking off into the distance. This was the only thing she was currently certain of.

As soon as she finished speaking, an uninvited guest suddenly appeared before them. Although the person offered a toast to Yu Kunian, their words were laced with mockery. The implication was that Yu Kunian was no longer “President Yu,” and that mixing into such an occasion was simply overestimating her own strength.

Yu Kunian had long been immune to this kind of talk. This person was merely a petty individual who couldn’t compare to her and was lashing out. At most, they would say a few biting words to satisfy themselves. But when the Alpha stared at the person with dark, somber eyes without saying a word, the person began to stammer. They took a fearful half-step back, trying to use volume to hide their intimidation.

Yu Kunian thought the person looked familiar. After a while, she remembered—it was the person who had tried to sabotage her at the dinner after the previous investment fair, whom she had eventually kicked out.

The person talked for a long time but wasn’t even acknowledged by Yu Kunian. A moment later, seeing Yu Kunian look away, the person felt like a shouting clown and became even more irritated. They gritted their teeth and tried to defeat Yu Kunian with words. But Yu Kunian remained unmoved, as if she had automatically blocked them out, treating the person as if they were transparent.

In a fit of rage, the other person brought up Yu Kunian’s divorce and mentioned Song Wenzhi.

Yu Kunian’s gaze turned sharp in an instant. She looked the person up and down. Her already foul mood worsened, replaced by a surge of indignation.

“Do you know that Alphas have ranks? My pheromones can completely suppress you; in fact, I can crush you using nothing but pheromones. It’s true I am no longer President Yu of Zhaoming Biotech, but without that title, it doesn’t mean I’ve become easy to talk to.” Yu Kunian sat in her seat without moving. She glanced at the person in front of her and paused. Seeing the other person’s expression turn ugly and their legs begin to wobble under the pressure of her pheromones, she added: “My last name is still Yu.”

The “Yu” of Yu Dai.

She had originally hated using Yu Dai’s name the most, but now, it was the most appropriate tool.

She had never been a pushover to begin with. All she had lost was a title; it didn’t mean she had changed her nature. Previously, for the sake of Zhaoming Biotech, she had maintained a mask of politeness when dealing with these loathsome bosses. Now, she had no such concerns, yet someone still dared to provoke her.

The oppressive pheromones, smelling of mint, permeated the small area. Although Jiang Qiu wasn’t as heavily affected, she still felt somewhat uncomfortable. She grabbed Yu Kunian’s arm and said, “Kunian, that’s enough.”

“If you run your mouth again, the news of you sending people to maliciously cut the power to the Zhaoming Biotech lab, causing damage to expensive equipment, will be on the front page of every major headline,” Yu Kunian said without changing her expression. It was a threat, and a warning.

“What do you have—”

“Do you think I wouldn’t have evidence?”

Yu Kunian’s expression made it clear: she had evidence and total certainty. Moreover, the equipment in the Zhaoming Biotech lab was incredibly expensive. If the data on the losses and the total amount were truly tallied, this person would likely have to take a trip to the Supervisory Committee.

Consequently, the person in front of her apologized sheepishly and left with a dark face. Yu Kunian then retracted her pheromones.

Despite this, the Alpha’s expression remained grim. She stared at the person’s back, her thoughts unknown. Jiang Qiu quickly pulled her toward the outdoor courtyard to avoid being held accountable by others for the release of her pheromones, walking away from the crowd.

The courtyard outside was very quiet, though the wind was quite strong. The cold wind blowing against her face cleared Yu Kunian’s head significantly.

Jiang Qiu stayed a step away to avoid being oppressed by the lingering pheromones. “Why such a sudden burst of temper?”

“I’m in a bad mood right now. I don’t have time to be polite to enemies.” Yu Kunian hadn’t liked that person before anyway; they just happened to run into her at the worst possible time.

Jiang Qiu clearly didn’t believe her. “Kunian, tell me: were you angry because that person offended you, or because they said something bad about Song Wenzhi?”

At this, Yu Kunian paused. She looked up at the sky, her bangs fluttering in the cold wind. After a long silence, the Alpha said, “I don’t allow anyone to speak ill of her in my presence.”

Song Wenzhi wasn’t perfect, but she was good.

Even though Song Wenzhi often doubted herself, Yu Kunian had never changed her mind. The Omega was so outstanding—a leader in her field—and should not be questioned by others.

Jiang Qiu understood now. She stood by her side and looked at Yu Kunian with a hint of inquiry in her eyes. She asked:

“Kunian, Song Wenzhi is extremely special to you, isn’t she?”