The Pursuit of Love After Divorcing My Cold Omega - Chapter 74

“President Yu, I don’t want to owe you anything.”

The sudden rain in New York had fallen all night and showed no signs of stopping. Yu Kunian had stayed up very late and rose early the next morning to drive to the research institute. The early morning sky was misty and gray. The institute’s working hours weren’t particularly early, but both Song Wenzhi and Xia Weichi were accustomed to arriving an hour or two ahead of schedule; today was no exception.

Yu Kunian arrived at the institute gates before they started work. The rain remained heavy, pitter-pattering against the windshield, while a chilly wind whistled through the narrow crevices of the car, leaving a faint coldness at her fingertips.

The Alpha didn’t know how long she waited before she saw Xia Weichi and Song Wenzhi approaching, sharing a single umbrella. They were walking very close to one another. Yu Kunian froze for a moment before hurriedly stepping out of the car. In her haste, she nearly forgot to open her own umbrella, and her shoulder was instantly soaked.

“Wenzhi,” Yu Kunian called out the moment she saw Song Wenzhi about to enter the institute.

Song Wenzhi reflexively stopped in her tracks. When Xia Weichi stopped alongside her and saw who it was, her expression instantly darkened. As Yu Kunian approached, Song Wenzhi averted her gaze. Xia Weichi took a half-step forward to shield the Omega, speaking in a cold voice:

“Yu Kunian, I told you yesterday—don’t come near this street.”

Yu Kunian ignored Xia Weichi’s words. Her eyes were fixed steadily on Song Wenzhi as she held out the umbrella in her hand. “Wenzhi, thank you for the umbrella.”

At those words, Song Wenzhi slowly looked toward her. She lowered her eyes, her gaze falling upon the umbrella she had handed to Xia Weichi the day before.

The sound of raindrops hitting the umbrella above her was loud, yet for a moment, Song Wenzhi felt as if she could only hear her own breathing. Her fingertips trembled slightly. After a blink, she took a step backward.

Xia Weichi’s hand holding the umbrella didn’t follow quickly enough, allowing the rain to dampen the ends of Song Wenzhi’s hair. The Omega pressed her lips thin and remained silent, merely reaching out to tug at Xia Weichi’s sleeve. Xia Weichi understood immediately; she snatched the umbrella from Yu Kunian’s hand and moved to completely block Song Wenzhi behind her. Meeting Yu Kunian’s gaze, she frowned and said:

“It’s just a worthless item; I’m surprised President Yu deigned to make the trip personally just to return it. Since it’s back, please leave. No loitering is allowed outside the institute. Thank you for your cooperation.”

The expulsion and sarcasm in Xia Weichi’s words didn’t anger Yu Kunian. Instead, it was Song Wenzhi’s avoidance that left her speechless. The Omega wasn’t even willing to say a single word to her. This rejection left the Alpha’s heart filled with an irreconcilable gloom.

“Wenzhi, have you eaten breakfast?” Yu Kunian managed to force a slight smile. She withdrew her gaze but still asked the question.

Xia Weichi gave a cold, professionally polite smile. “I truly appreciate President Yu’s concern, but we’ve already eaten. We ate breakfast at home before coming out.”

Yu Kunian didn’t know how to respond. She simply nodded and added, “The temperature has dropped a lot today. Wenzhi, be careful not to catch a cold.”

The way Xia Weichi said “we” was still so jarring.

Yu Kunian struggled to believe that Xia Weichi and Song Wenzhi were together, yet every time she saw them close to each other, she couldn’t help but wonder… had they truly become each other’s solace?

The Alpha simply didn’t want to believe it, nor was she willing to.

Song Wenzhi was no longer willing to be near her, and she had no right to stop the Omega from being near another Alpha. This made Yu Kunian both resentful and sorrowful.

“Our affairs are none of President Yu’s concern,” Xia Weichi replied before leading Song Wenzhi into the institute.

From beginning to end, Song Wenzhi never responded to her. Yu Kunian watched the Omega’s receding back, standing in place for a long time. Only after Song Wenzhi’s figure disappeared did she slowly come back to her senses. With a bitter, self-deprecating laugh, she sat back in her car.

Looking at the breakfast sitting beside her, still emitting a faint steam, Yu Kunian gripped the steering wheel tighter. The curve of her mouth vanished, and a hint of sorrow colored her eyes. The Alpha had no appetite; the breakfast was eventually thrown into a trash can outside the institute after it had gone completely cold.

Perhaps Xia Weichi hadn’t expected Yu Kunian to linger at the gates, so she hadn’t sent anyone to drive her away. Feeling uncomfortable sitting in the car, Yu Kunian stood outside not far from the entrance. Her umbrella obscured most of her face as she stood there like a pillar for a long time. Passersby glanced at her briefly, but no one paid her much mind.

Yu Kunian wasn’t waiting for anything in particular; she just didn’t know where else to go. She simply wanted to be a little closer to Song Wenzhi.

Unexpectedly, Song Wenzhi walked out of the institute a few hours later. Xia Weichi wasn’t with her. The Omega stood by the roadside, seemingly trying to hail a taxi. But the rain was getting heavier, making it harder to find a cab. Song Wenzhi kept checking the time, looking anxious.

It was then that Yu Kunian walked over and asked, “Wenzhi, where are you going? I’ll give you a ride.”

Song Wenzhi turned and saw it was her. Her first instinct was to move away, but she finally spoke, though her voice was cold: “No need.”

However, there were few taxis available, and those passing by were already occupied. Song Wenzhi checked the time on her phone again. Glancing at Yu Kunian out of the corner of her eye, her mounting anxiety forced her to consider the Alpha’s offer.

As if sensing her thoughts, Yu Kunian stepped closer again. “Wenzhi, it’s very hard to get a car right now. It will take at least twenty or thirty minutes to find one. I don’t have any ulterior motives; I’ll just drop you off. Don’t worry.”

Song Wenzhi looked at Yu Kunian. The Alpha had a smile on her face, seemingly unaware that her collar was wet and clinging to her neck. If the Omega continued to refuse, the Alpha looked as though she wouldn’t even notice if she became completely soaked through. Song Wenzhi frowned. She stated an address and walked toward the passenger side of Yu Kunian’s car.

Yu Kunian was ecstatic. She had assumed Song Wenzhi would refuse; hearing her agree, she froze for a second before hurrying to get behind the wheel.

After they buckled their seatbelts, Yu Kunian set the navigation. On the way to the destination, her gaze frequently drifted toward Song Wenzhi, but the Omega had no intention of speaking. She kept her head turned toward the window, remaining silent throughout the drive.

“It will take about half an hour. Will you make it in time, Wenzhi?” Yu Kunian spoke first, checking the navigation time.

Song Wenzhi snapped out of her thoughts and gave a short “Mm,” signaling she didn’t want further conversation.

Yu Kunian didn’t mind. Instead, she spoke again: “The work at the research institute can be quite complex. Are you getting used to it?”

Although Song Wenzhi’s appointment as a professor at Lihua University had been a matter of necessity, she was, to some extent, used to being a teacher. Yet in New York, she could only serve as a project assistant to Xia Weichi. Yu Kunian couldn’t be sure if Song Wenzhi liked this new job, but she knew it wasn’t what the Omega truly wanted.

It was merely Xia Weichi’s decision, and Song Wenzhi had no other choice.

“President Yu, this should have nothing to do with you,” Song Wenzhi said tonelessly, without looking back.

Yu Kunian choked up. Just as a red light ended, she murmured almost to herself, “Yes… it has nothing to do with me.”

In truth, that wasn’t what Yu Kunian wanted to ask. She wanted to ask about Song Wenzhi and Xia Weichi, but she had no way to ask—and again, it was none of her business. Yu Kunian tried to find other topics to talk about. She wanted to hear Song Wenzhi’s voice more, even if the Omega’s reactions were cold. Even if she were just talking to herself, she felt extremely satisfied.

But Song Wenzhi seemed irritated by her incessant talking. Yu Kunian’s words were cut short as she heard Song Wenzhi say: “Yu Kunian, you’re too noisy.”

There was no impatience in the Omega’s voice, only a few indiscernible tremors. Song Wenzhi lowered her eyes, steadying her breathing before adding a moment later: “President Yu, please be quiet.”

Song Wenzhi somewhat regretted getting into Yu Kunian’s car. She hadn’t been able to forget the Alpha, and hearing the Alpha’s voice continuously in her ear reminded her of their home in Lihua City, listening to Yu Kunian talk to her… thinking of Lihua City made Song Wenzhi regretful.

She would fall into memories. She would recall the sweetness.

But she would also suddenly remember that it was all fake—that all the sweetness would eventually be torn away.

Song Wenzhi couldn’t listen to Yu Kunian speaking to her as she used to, as if nothing had happened. But by what right? By what right did Yu Kunian follow her to New York acting as if nothing had occurred, chasing her to show kindness? Was she supposed to forget everything the Alpha had done before?

The Omega couldn’t forget.

She couldn’t forget Yu Kunian’s kindness, nor could she forget Yu Kunian’s deception.

Even now, what else did Yu Kunian want to deceive her about? Song Wenzhi didn’t know. She felt she had nothing left to be deceived of; shouldn’t she have become utterly useless to Yu Kunian by now?

“Okay, I understand.” Yu Kunian fell completely silent at her words. She glanced toward her a few times, her mood turning somber.

Did Song Wenzhi truly loathe her that much? She had no more smiles for her, let alone patience.

Frustrated, Yu Kunian stopped talking, but she couldn’t help looking at Song Wenzhi at every red light. She couldn’t see enough of the Omega, even if it was just her profile. For her, the thirty-minute drive was too short—so short it felt like a mere blink before the car stopped and Song Wenzhi was opening the door to leave.

Before getting out, Song Wenzhi paused and asked, “How much for the fare? I’ll pay you.”

The question stunned Yu Kunian. She froze for a long while before saying, “Wenzhi, I wanted to drive you. There’s no fare.”

“President Yu, I don’t want to owe you anything.”

Song Wenzhi’s words were like a blade piercing Yu Kunian’s heart. The Alpha looked at the Omega in disbelief, shocked and hurt that Song Wenzhi wanted to draw such a sharp line between them.

Yu Kunian’s breathing became erratic, her gaze filled with unmistakable disappointment. “I don’t want money. Wenzhi, save my number as the fare. Is that okay?”

As she spoke, Yu Kunian scrambled to find a piece of paper and a pen. She wrote down her new phone number and handed it to Song Wenzhi, her voice carrying a note of pleading.

Song Wenzhi finally turned and met her gaze. The Omega’s brow furrowed again. Then, without a word, she took the paper, put it in her pocket, and stepped out of the car.

Perhaps Song Wenzhi would throw the paper away immediately, or perhaps she would forget about it in a moment; Yu Kunian would likely still not be in her contacts. But Yu Kunian held no other hopes. As long as Song Wenzhi accepted it, it was enough.