The Pursuit of Love After Divorcing My Cold Omega - Chapter 82

Wanting Song Wenzhi to Belong Only to Her

Yu Kunian was wary of Xia Weichi taking advantage of the situation. Because she didn’t know how Xia Weichi and Song Wenzhi had been getting along during the time before she arrived in New York, she felt uncertain.

Seeing her expression darken, Cheng Lu tried to comfort her: “Don’t worry, it’s just a rumor; it’s not like they are actually together. I just wanted you to know that time is of the essence—there are people constantly eyeing your Omega with predatory intent.”

“Even so, I can’t rush things,” Yu Kunian insisted, despite the warning.

Cheng Lu compromised: “Whatever you say. I won’t worry myself sick over it then. Whether you manage to pursue her or not is your business; I’ll just offer a bit of advice and strategy occasionally.”

Yu Kunian took out the sticky note with the book title—the one Song Wenzhi hadn’t taken back—from her pocket. Her fingertips gently brushed over the handwriting. She pursed her lips and remained silent.

She had followed her to New York because she truly wanted to start over with Song Wenzhi. Because of her belated realization of love, she wanted to make amends, but the Alpha also knew she had to give Song Wenzhi time.

Of course, Yu Kunian was anxious. She feared that someone as outstanding as Song Wenzhi would be coveted by others. She was now constantly on guard against every Alpha around Song Wenzhi, and she couldn’t help but feel a controlling sense of jealousy, wanting Song Wenzhi to look at her more.

She wanted Song Wenzhi to belong to her alone—to be her legal Omega.

Regarding a marriage that had once been entered into with ulterior motives, she was now desperately pleading for a second chance.

“Still, isn’t it a bit strange that Xia Weichi has contacted you so many times without meeting you, and refuses to let Song Wenzhi come to negotiate?” Cheng Lu’s voice interrupted Yu Kunian’s thoughts once more. “And are you really just going to keep waiting? Even if you have money to burn, this isn’t the way to do it. This kind of behavior, disregarding losses, is painful to watch.”

Yu Kunian tucked the sticky note back away. “She has her own selfish motives. She’s mentioned several times wanting to discuss cooperation in a personal capacity; it’s not that strange. Aside from waiting, there is no other way. Am I supposed to take the initiative to go to the research institute and beg for a partnership?”

The research institute’s attitude toward CPP technology was still unknown. If she took the initiative to negotiate, she would lose her bargaining power, not to mention the added condition of only wanting to negotiate with Song Wenzhi.

Regarding her attitude toward money, Yu Kunian glanced at Cheng Lu and said indifferently, “It’s not your money that’s burning. President Cheng shouldn’t have such a strong sense of possessiveness over my funds.”

Cheng Lu rolled her eyes. “I’m just worried that if this continues, your capital will be burned to the last cent. When the time comes and President Yu has nothing left, you’ll have to rely on my charity.”

“Don’t worry,” Yu Kunian’s expression softened slightly as she joked, “Even if I need charity, Jiang Qiu would be the first to help me. It wouldn’t be President Cheng’s turn yet.”

Cheng Lu stood up and walked to the window, watching the snow that had started to fall at some unknown point. She teased, “You say that as if you have shares in Jiang Qiu’s family winery. You’ve been in New York for so long and haven’t even visited Jiang Qiu’s elders; do you really expect them to fund you?”

“How do you know I haven’t visited? The wine I gave you earlier was from Auntie Jiang.”

Speaking of Jiang Qiu, Yu Kunian remembered something. She scrolled through her recent chat history with Jiang Qiu and felt a vague sense of oddity. Every time she called recently, Jiang Qiu did answer, but the frequency of calls was very low. Her messages seemed mostly normal, but Yu Kunian felt something wasn’t quite right.

“Have you been in contact with Jiang Qiu lately?” Yu Kunian asked.

Cheng Lu paused for a moment before saying, “No, why?”

Yu Kunian frowned. “It’s nothing.” After speaking, she stood up. After a moment of thought, she sent a message to Li Ci, asking her to help check on Jiang Qiu’s current situation.

“The snow is getting heavy. You didn’t bring an umbrella, did you?” Seeing Yu Kunian about to leave, Cheng Lu grabbed an umbrella and tossed it to her.

Yu Kunian glanced out the window, nodded, and pushed the door open to leave.

Outside, it hadn’t taken long for the snow to become quite heavy. The biting cold wind was piercing. Yu Kunian had forgotten to wear a scarf, and her clothes were low-collared; after just a few steps, her neck felt chilled.

A thin layer of white had settled on the car window. Yu Kunian sat in the driver’s seat. She took out her phone, wanting to send a reminder to Song Wenzhi, but then remembered she still didn’t have Song Wenzhi’s contact information. Her eyes darkened. Although she now knew Song Wenzhi’s address, the Alpha had no reason to disturb her at will; at most, when acting as a driver later, she could drive to the building, and that was it.

After returning home, Li Ci sent a message saying she wasn’t in Lihua City recently and would have to wait a couple of days to return. Jiang Qiu’s replies to her were normal as usual, but with the time difference, such a situation wasn’t particularly strange. Yu Kunian felt she might be overthinking it and simply asked Li Ci to visit the bistro to see Jiang Qiu once she returned to Lihua City.

Aside from matters concerning Song Wenzhi, Yu Kunian had nothing else to do. Since she didn’t have to pick up or drop off the Omega for the time being, the Alpha stood by the living room window of her home, staring blankly into space. Outside, frost and snow filled the air, and a layer of slush quickly accumulated on the ground. Inside, it was warm as usual, but Yu Kunian remembered that Song Wenzhi’s home had been somewhat cold the night before.

Working as an assistant at a research institute was truly a waste of talent for Song Wenzhi, and the salary certainly couldn’t compare to the level of a professor in Lihua City.

Yu Kunian didn’t know if Xia Weichi had the ability to arrange a better job for Song Wenzhi, but if it were her, she wouldn’t let Song Wenzhi just be an assistant. However, such a thought was merely an extravagant hope; the Omega would never accept her arrangements and didn’t want to… owe her anything.

She had thought these couple of days would pass in boredom, but unexpectedly, Yu Kunian received a phone call from Song Wenzhi the next day.

When she received the call from an unknown number, Yu Kunian hadn’t quite woken up yet. Hearing Song Wenzhi’s voice, she was instantly alert. After confirming it was Song Wenzhi on the other end, the Alpha sat up. This surprise seemed to make her eyes sparkle, and the tail-end of her words unconsciously lifted in tone.

Song Wenzhi’s voice seemed deliberately lowered. “Are you free right now, Yu Kunian?”

“Yes,” Yu Kunian said without hesitation. “What do you need from me?”

Song Wenzhi sent her an address. “Come here to find me. As soon as possible. Is it convenient?”

Hearing the slightly grim tone in Song Wenzhi’s voice, Yu Kunian immediately got out of bed to change clothes. “Okay, I’m leaving now. Call me anytime if anything happens.”

Without time to tidy up, Yu Kunian simply washed up and hurried out the door, so anxious she even forgot her umbrella. The snow that had stopped in the middle of the night began to fall again this morning. Although it was relatively light, the accumulation from the night before made the roads somewhat slippery, but Yu Kunian couldn’t be bothered by that.

She didn’t know what had happened to Song Wenzhi and was worried. Her driving speed was much faster than usual. Looking at the distance on the navigation, her face was grim, and her heart was filled with anxiety.

Song Wenzhi didn’t call again. She hoped nothing had happened. Amidst her worries, she felt that the tone the Omega had used just now was overly tense, and seemed to carry a hint of fear.

When Yu Kunian finally rushed to the destination, she immediately sent a message asking for Song Wenzhi’s exact location. However, the other side didn’t reply for a long time. The Alpha couldn’t see the Omega anywhere and didn’t know if calling would seem intrusive, making her even more frantic.

The second before Yu Kunian was about to dial the number, Song Wenzhi’s message finally arrived: she was inside a temporary Omega medical station. Yu Kunian followed the directions and, seeing Song Wenzhi’s figure standing at the door, hurried forward.

After confirming the Omega was alright, the weight in Yu Kunian’s heart finally dropped.

“What can I do to help?” Yu Kunian asked, still feeling a lingering sense of dread.

Song Wenzhi’s expression was somewhat solemn. She instructed Yu Kunian: “Once we go in, just listen to me. For now, you are another assistant from the research institute.”

Yu Kunian didn’t ask why; she simply nodded and said, “Okay.”

Xia Weichi was primarily responsible for the medical section at the research institute, and Song Wenzhi, as an assistant, naturally handled these matters. This temporary medical station was a place Song Wenzhi had been coming to frequently of late.

Song Wenzhi would help the staff at the medical station with Omegas who needed assistance. She didn’t treat the Omegas’ injuries herself; she was only responsible for examinations and providing medications.

Upon entering the medical station, Yu Kunian discovered that the expressions of the people inside mostly carried a bit of hostility; they didn’t look like simple medical personnel. Furthermore, when Song Wenzhi introduced her, she used a fake name, which made Yu Kunian sense that something was fishy.

But Song Wenzhi gave her no chance to investigate. She pulled her along to check on the condition of several unconscious Omegas lying on hospital beds. Following Song Wenzhi’s instructions, the Alpha took out the pre-prepared medications. The situation inside the medical station was complex, and pheromones were chaotic. Aside from them, some of the individual Alpha staff were even faintly releasing pheromones. Although they were wearing scent blockers, Yu Kunian was still afraid Song Wenzhi would be affected.

Alpha instinct allowed Yu Kunian to perceive that the pheromones lingering in the air were not friendly. Thus, she frowned and reached up to loosen her own scent blocker slightly, enveloping Song Wenzhi in a hint of mint scent to prevent other Alphas from harboring ill intentions.

Song Wenzhi sensed it acutely. She didn’t stop her; instead, she subconsciously leaned a few inches closer to Yu Kunian. The trembling fingertips hidden in her sleeves finally regained some warmth.

Although the other Alphas were all wearing masks, when Yu Kunian’s gaze inadvertently swept across them, she noticed these people were constantly sizing her and Song Wenzhi up. It was a probing and suspicious look that made one very uncomfortable, but Yu Kunian deliberately suppressed all her sensations, avoiding eye contact with the other party and focusing on helping Song Wenzhi.

It wasn’t until the tasks were completed and Yu Kunian pulled out a tissue to wipe the thin layer of sweat from Song Wenzhi’s forehead that the Omega seemed to breathe a sigh of relief. After Song Wenzhi turned to explain the situation to the leader of the other party, she took the medical kit and pulled Yu Kunian out of the medical station together.

Song Wenzhi gripped Yu Kunian’s wrist tightly. The two of them walked straight ahead without looking back, then turned left at the first intersection. After confirming they were no longer being watched, the Omega finally let down her guard and released Yu Kunian’s hand.

“Zhizhi, what’s wrong?” Seeing that Song Wenzhi’s complexion was not good, Yu Kunian couldn’t help but ask with concern.

Finding a place to sit down, Song Wenzhi took a sip of water and said to Yu Kunian, “Thank you.”

The mint scent on her body had already dissipated. Snowflakes fell onto her hair. Song Wenzhi didn’t feel cold; instead, she felt a wave of lingering fear.