The Pursuit of Love After Divorcing My Cold Omega - Chapter 68

It turned out to be love.

Yu Kunian did not answer Jiang Qiu’s question immediately. She slowly withdrew her gaze, raising her hand to stroke the ring around her neck. As the image of Song Wenzhi’s face surfaced in her mind, the gloom in the Alpha’s eyes gradually dissipated.

“I think… I wasn’t acting,” Yu Kunian said after a long silence.

Song Wenzhi was her exception—she was in the past, she is in the present, and she would be in the future.

Everyone thought she was too deep into her role, believing she had lost the ability to distinguish truth from falsehood while playing the part of pursuing Song Wenzhi, genuinely convincing herself she was Song Wenzhi’s wife. Even Yu Kunian herself had thought so. But at this moment, the Alpha felt that it wasn’t the case.

Without a logical reason, she simply felt it wasn’t an act.

Yu Kunian had told herself over and over again that her wife could be anyone, that it didn’t have to be Song Wenzhi. She had been brainwashing herself, wanting to stay sober and rational, but the reality was different.

If her legal wife could have been any Omega with a suitable pheromone compatibility, she wouldn’t have felt such repulsion toward Li Ci’s pheromones.

Song Wenzhi was the exception, and the only one.

Yu Kunian lifted her eyes to look at Jiang Qiu, her amber pupils tinged with complexity. “It wasn’t fake.”

She had never been so sincere. Her emotions would always be tethered to Song Wenzhi. Even she was surprised by the behaviors she had once changed for Song Wenzhi; those changes were real.

Although Yu Kunian remained confused even now, she knew deep down that not a single day went by without her thinking of Song Wenzhi. In over twenty years, no one had ever haunted her soul like this. Only Song Wenzhi remained in her thoughts day and night, nearly becoming an obsession.

Therefore, Yu Kunian said, “She is the most special one to me.”

Hearing the expected answer, Jiang Qiu couldn’t tell if she was happy or worried; her emotions were complicated. Looking at Yu Kunian for a long while, she sighed and said, “Kunian, I know your two mothers had an emotionless arranged marriage, but I completely failed to realize that you seem to be utterly clueless about matters of the heart.”

Jiang Qiu had originally thought Yu Kunian had buried herself in work because she felt developing feelings was a waste of time. Who would have thought it was because Yu Kunian didn’t understand them, and in all these years, she had never met someone who moved her heart? Furthermore, given Yu Kunian’s poor attitude toward marriage in the beginning and how she weighed the pros and cons of it, Jiang Qiu naturally assumed Yu Kunian would follow the old path of Yu Dai and Yang Jin.

She never thought it was because Yu Kunian simply didn’t know. Growing up in that kind of family, she never had the chance to learn. She had always been “drawing a tiger by looking at a cat,” possessing only a superficial understanding of emotions.

“What do you mean?” Yu Kunian frowned and asked.

Jiang Qiu hesitated. She didn’t want to bring up the embarrassing history between herself and Yu Sheng, so she could only say vaguely, “Although I am currently in an arranged marriage with Wen Yan, my parents—the two of them—truly love each other. I know what that kind of emotion looks like. However, in your case, having never seen what two people in love look like, you probably don’t quite understand your own heart…”

At first, Jiang Qiu had preconceived notions that Yu Kunian wouldn’t be moved. After all, she and Yu Kunian had planned the “acting” together, and the goal was merely marriage. During that period, everything followed the plan. She wasn’t fully aware of the daily interactions between Yu Kunian and Song Wenzhi, so she subconsciously felt it was fake from start to finish. Later, when Song Wenzhi brought up the divorce, Jiang Qiu understood it, but Yu Kunian’s reaction was far too strange. Even then, she hadn’t thought in any other direction.

“Kunian, although it might be a bit late to say this now, but,” Jiang Qiu sighed again, “you seem to love Song Wenzhi.”

If she had realized this earlier, would there still have been a chance for the divorce?

But during the time after returning to the country, Jiang Qiu couldn’t have thought of this at all. On one hand, she had to spend time helping Wen Yan adapt to the atmosphere of Lihua City; on the other hand, she was intentionally avoiding Yu Sheng and had no time to check on Yu Kunian’s situation.

Yu Kunian felt as if she had misheard. Her brow furrowed deeper as she asked again, “What did you say?”

Love—two words so familiar, yet so foreign.

“In my view, love is an exception; it is a constant, lingering concern, and more so, a willingness to change for her.” Jiang Qiu spoke calmly to Yu Kunian, but she couldn’t help but think of Yu Sheng’s silhouette. This caused her to pause unconsciously. Only after curling her fingers into her palms did she continue: “When you mentioned last time that Song Wenzhi was in your future plans, I didn’t pay it much mind. But thinking about it now, you had already included her in your future. If she were just a cold, emotionless marriage partner, then the one to decisively demand a divorce would have been you, rather than being in this much pain and distress as you are now.”

In Yu Kunian’s plans, there would never be a person who offered no profit, unless that person was someone Yu Kunian couldn’t bear to abandon—an eternal exception. Jiang Qiu knew Yu Kunian, but this realization came late because she had overlooked the possibility of this exception.

“I don’t know the actual details of your life with Song Wenzhi, but you can look back and think—did you fully accept her, including her flaws? In any situation, did you always tolerate her, never losing patience, never finding her bothersome? And, could you relax in front of her, always considering things from her perspective… In short, if she is special to you and different from everyone else, then that is love.”

Yu Kunian was clearly stunned. Jiang Qiu also felt a surge of regret; she had realized it too late.

“This is love?” Yu Kunian couldn’t help but feel dazed.

Jiang Qiu said, “Yes.”

Yu Kunian felt a roar in her ears again. Her fingertips trembled slightly. For a moment, she didn’t know how to react. Her thoughts became chaotic again, flashing from the first time she met Song Wenzhi to their very last meeting.

Her sadness and Song Wenzhi’s pain both revolved around that single reason.

It seemed that it didn’t have to come to this point.

Yu Kunian could not accept it. She couldn’t accept that her own ignorance had led to this result—a result where they both hurt each other, and no one was satisfied. She was always at ease in the business world, but facing emotions, she knew nothing, appearing foolish to the point of absurdity.

Without knowing when it began, Yu Kunian had developed true feelings in the midst of her “fake” pursuit. Even she herself hadn’t noticed.

She thought she was just getting better at acting, performing behaviors that could deceive Song Wenzhi, but she never imagined it was the genuine direction of her heart. Yu Kunian remembered every moment with Song Wenzhi. She had wanted to encourage the Omega who always felt imperfect; she wanted to see her become more confident and better; she would even change herself because of her.

Every moment she spent observing Song Wenzhi closely, every smile generated because of her—what she thought was “falling deep into the role” was actually a case of being moved by love without knowing it.

In the past, there were warm breezes that brushed by, and there were dark, gloomy days that turned gentle. Several specific days engraved in Yu Kunian’s memory all featured the Omega’s smile, the Omega’s closeness, and the Omega’s gaze directed at her.

That burning gaze had always followed her.

It turned out to be love.

Yu Kunian had always attributed these things to the high pheromone compatibility. Her instincts were also attributed to the Omega’s pheromones. And now, she finally realized that her instincts were never because of the so-called pheromones; her gland had never made the decision for her.

But the Alpha still couldn’t believe it. She hadn’t noticed; it was so absurd.

Yu Kunian’s breathing quickened slightly. She took half a step back, confusion flashing in her eyes. “How could that be?”

That day during the argument with Song Wenzhi about “love”… was it possible she actually did have it?

“No… it shouldn’t be like this.” Yu Kunian still couldn’t believe it. She shook her head, her words losing their coherence as she fell back into a state of confusion.

She didn’t experience a moment of sudden enlightenment; instead, she felt a sense of disbelief.

Such a bewildering realization only became clear today. Yu Kunian didn’t know if she should confirm it, because in her world, “correct” emotions had never existed. Even with Yu Dai and Yang Jin, all she felt was suffocation, and she always felt that her two mothers never truly cared about her.

Weighing the world with profit was the path of her upbringing.

Yu Dai taught her to utilize everything around her, whether people or objects. She had to learn to use them to pave her own way and reach higher ground. Under that cold instruction, Yu Kunian could not feel a shred of warmth. She had once envied Yu Sheng for being raised by Yang Yu, because Yang Yu was gentle. But she had grown up in a family without temperature.

She had never loved anyone, nor had she correctly experienced being loved. Thus, she learned Yu Dai’s ruthlessness and Yang Jin’s hypocrisy. Yu Kunian always said she hated their ways, but in reality, she carried their shadows. Was she not just another Yu Dai, another Yang Jin?

But… fortunately, she wasn’t exactly the same.

Yu Kunian wasn’t in disarray because she had long ago fallen in love with Song Wenzhi; she was in disarray because her instincts had repeatedly reminded her of her feelings for Song Wenzhi, yet she remained entirely ignorant. She had even held onto her “calmness” to tell Song Wenzhi that her profit-driven behavior wasn’t wrong.

She was stupid. Her ignorance had hurt the Omega.

But this hindsight was useless.

Yu Kunian remembered the words she spoke during the argument with Song Wenzhi. Her self-righteous, “logical” definition of marriage was actually a sharp blade that stabbed the Omega. Song Wenzhi’s persistence was not without reason. It was her own arrogance that caused the marriage to disintegrate so rapidly, even though she loved her too.

But she didn’t know. Even when she felt her own behavior was strange, she never thought it was love.

This realization, coming only after the divorce, was a devastating blow to Yu Kunian. The words she personally spoke could clearly have been avoided, but because of her own muddled state, she had pushed the ending toward the worst possible outcome.

Yu Kunian would rather she didn’t know, would rather she hadn’t made such a stupid mistake—yet she was also relieved that she knew now.

A moment later, Yu Kunian left the charity banquet. She declined Jiang Qiu’s company and walked out alone, her mind in a mess. Her state was even worse than before she arrived at the banquet.

She had been living at the villa for about half a month and hadn’t returned home. Yu Kunian knew she was actually escaping—she didn’t want to go back and see the empty house, the home where that Omega had moved out, leaving it without warmth.

But today, the Alpha lingered on the street for a long time. The cold wind made her head ache. Suddenly, she thought: I should go back and take a look.