The White Moonlight I Chased, the Divorce I Never Expected - Chapter 33

In the third-level basement of Wen Group’s office tower, An Li handed Wen Ranqing over to Chi Yi before leaving. Chi Yi stood there, eyes heavy with thought.

Through An Li, Chi Yi learned something she had never known—Wen Ranqing’s health wasn’t as sound as she had assumed.

She hadn’t always been able to drink endlessly. Her alcohol tolerance had only been slightly better than now. In the early days of running the company, she’d been inexperienced. After long business dinners, she sometimes drank too much on an empty stomach, often ending up dry-heaving from the discomfort.

Years of drinking without eating had left her stomach lining raw—each drop of alcohol directly burning her gastric walls. A recent endoscopy showed that the inner lining of her stomach was no longer a healthy reddish pink, but an unhealthy, widespread pallor. Drinking even a little now could cause irreversible damage.

This was all news to Chi Yi—and the moment she fully understood it, her chest ached with a quiet, relentless pain. For someone who didn’t even take good care of herself, Wen Ranqing had shown her so much care. Chi Yi had no defense against that kind of tenderness.

Outside, moonlight spilled across the ground in a pale shimmer, pooling into silver ripples. Wen Ranqing’s eyes were closed, a faint sheen of tears clinging to her lashes. Her breath came light and shallow. Chi Yi couldn’t look away.

“She used to be afraid of being seen by you like this.”

An Li’s words still echoed in her ears. Chi Yi frowned slightly, trying to recall—yes, Wen Ranqing had never appeared drunk in front of her before. What was she afraid of? All those dinners and social events… had she always faced them alone like this?

A mix of heartache and confusion left Chi Yi unsettled. She let go of the hair strand she’d been absently twirling. After a long pause, she decided it was time to wake her.

But as she leaned in, she noticed the dark circles beneath Wen Ranqing’s eyes—there was no hiding them. Chi Yi instantly lost the will to speak.

Didn’t she bring her younger brother back recently?
Then why… why does she still look so exhausted?

Thinking of how unsteady she had been earlier, Chi Yi sighed softly. She wrapped Wen Ranqing tighter in her blazer, stepped out of the driver’s seat, and walked around to gently lift her into her arms.

It was nearly 11 p.m. at the Wen Group building—everyone should have gone home by now. Just to be safe, Chi Yi shielded Wen Ranqing’s face against her chest and entered the private elevator at the end of the hall—Wen Ranqing’s own.

As she walked, a thought nagged at her. No matter how busy work is, shouldn’t she at least be home by now? Even a few days ago, after Chi Yi had left, it seemed like Wen Ranqing had stayed late too. But her thoughts soon shifted focus.

She hadn’t noticed while walking, but once in the elevator, Chi Yi realized the woman in her arms was subtly shifting—curling closer, her breath hot against her skin. Clearly, she was awake.

Chi Yi lowered her right shoulder slightly, trying to set her down. But instead, Wen Ranqing wrapped her arms more tightly around Chi Yi’s neck, shifting her weight as if to say don’t put me down.

“You’re awake?” Chi Yi asked, her cool voice laced with a teasing lilt.

Wen Ranqing had been half-awake for a few moments now. The alcohol still clouded her senses, but it had made her braver. Her face wasn’t just flushed from the wine—there was embarrassment too. Yet she didn’t lift her head. She stayed nestled in Chi Yi’s arms, saying nothing.

At some point, the blazer had slipped halfway off, exposing the full silhouette of her off-shoulder mermaid gown to the air. She stood at a graceful 5’7”, limbs long and slender—slim from her build, not from illness. Only at the curves of her body did shape give way to fullness. Now, pressed against Chi Yi, her movements were far from still.

The air around them seemed to grow warmer. Chi Yi forcefully suppressed the stirring in her chest and let her stay like that for a long moment before saying,

“Director Wen, I can’t press the elevator button like this.”

She paused, voice teasing again.
“Or are we just going to stay like this all night?”

All night… I want that.

Wen Ranqing’s clouded mind fumbled the meaning of those words and, after a moment, offered herself a firm, silent answer: Yes. She didn’t dare say it aloud.

She knew she was at the company. She knew Chi Yi was holding her.

But she didn’t know what Chi Yi’s mood was today. Probably not the kind of mood to hold her all night.

She was conflicted—so instead of responding, Wen Ranqing curled herself inward like a small fox, tail tucked tightly to her side, not moving an inch.

Chi Yi wanted to reach for her blazer but couldn’t free her hands. Wen Ranqing’s posture, so quiet and close, stirred a heat in her chest.

“Director Wen, why won’t you look at me?” she asked, her voice low, a bit hoarse.

Wen Ranqing’s cheeks burned hotter. After a long moment, she finally whispered,
“We’re not supposed to meet at the company…”

Her voice was soft, as if simply stating a rule—one that Chi Yi had laid down. There wasn’t sadness in it, just quiet acceptance.

Really drunk this time, Chi Yi thought. She’s literally in my arms and still saying we can’t meet.

Her heartstrings were tugged in ways she couldn’t control. She couldn’t help but ask,
“Well, we’ve already met. So why won’t you let go now?”

Almost immediately, Wen Ranqing replied.

“I haven’t seen you in days…”

A rare moment of honesty, and the words slipped out before she could hide them. She felt utterly embarrassed—her fingers tightened slightly, shrinking again like a mimosa touched by the wind, but still answering every question.

The tips of her ears, poking out from her hair, were red—who knew if it was from alcohol or something else. Her body was warm and soft, her face half-hidden by her tousled hair, not daring to meet Chi Yi’s gaze.

After a while, when Chi Yi finally opened her mouth to speak, her throat was dry. But before she could say anything, she felt warmth spreading across the front of her dress—subtle but noticeable. It wasn’t breath—it was wet.

Wen Ranqing was crying.

Chi Yi tensed. Alarmed, she changed her tone.
“What’s wrong?”
“Are you feeling unwell?”

The two sincere questions landed gently near her ears. Wen Ranqing still couldn’t look up. Her body was weak, her limbs soft, and she hung onto Chi Yi like a doll with no strength. She didn’t know what she was doing, only that for some reason—after so many times of tearing up without crying—this time, the tears finally fell.

It wasn’t even emotional—it was more like a reflex. A few drops fell, then stopped. But Chi Yi’s gentle voice, her kindness, made it impossible to respond.

Is she really this scary?

She’d already lowered her voice as much as she could. Still no answer?

Chi Yi was growing helpless. The way Wen Ranqing drunkenly clung to her, soft and delicate, made it nearly impossible to stay angry. It clearly wasn’t physical discomfort. That meant—there was another reason.

Nothing had gone wrong at the banquet. She’d looked fine when they’d met. On the way back, she was just asleep…

Chi Yi slowly replayed their earlier conversation in her mind.

“I haven’t seen you in days…”
Was that it?

Her heart began to beat faster.

Her hands were full, and even though Wen Ranqing was still holding onto her neck, Chi Yi didn’t dare let go—not with the risk of dropping her. That thought alone made her arms tighten reflexively.

Though not especially sensitive, Wen Ranqing still felt the firm hold at her back and behind her knees—making her awareness of Chi Yi’s presence sharper. She let out a soft breath and burrowed her face against Chi Yi’s chest. Then, hesitating, she raised her head.

Her soft cheek brushed against Chi Yi’s skin. Her eyes shimmered like wet petals beneath dark lashes. A few strands of her hair clung to her flushed face, her lips glistening red, nearly trembling with moisture.

Chi Yi’s heart skipped violently. She exhaled sharply, trying to look away—only for her ear to be pinched.

“You’re so mean, Xiao Yi…” Wen Ranqing murmured.

She let go of Chi Yi’s neck, only to pinch her earlobe, then lightly squeeze her cheek. It was nothing—but to Chi Yi, it burned like wildfire.

Drunk and impulsive, Wen Ranqing followed her thoughts wherever they led. Chi Yi couldn’t understand—but she also didn’t dare move. Her gaze grew hotter as she locked eyes with those drunken, dazed pupils and asked hoarsely,
“What did I do?”

Can’t meet at work. But they were both working all the time—when else could they meet?

And clearly… pouting didn’t help either.

Wen Ranqing’s mind was looping around these thoughts, but she couldn’t say any of them aloud. Her breathing quickened—not out of anger, but out of a small, buried grievance.

Her eyes landed on the delicate curve of Chi Yi’s neck and shoulder.

Little lions bite when angry…
She could too, couldn’t she?

Chi Yi watched her lean closer—watched as she pressed a soft kiss to her cheek, just the lightest nip. That spot on her skin flushed visibly, but the force wasn’t even a tenth of what Chi Yi had once left behind.

Chi Yi let out a long breath.

Wen Ranqing immediately thought she’d hurt her. Panic bloomed in her eyes, and she quickly stroked the spot she’d bitten, face burning with rising heat. Before Chi Yi could respond, her eyes reddened again, and her voice was barely audible.

“You really are mean…”

Where she’d been bitten tingled and burned. Wen Ranqing buried her face against her again—like a cat that had just misbehaved and didn’t realize how devastatingly adorable it was.

Chi Yi could feel her spiritual energy stirring wildly inside her—an early warning sign of an approaching sensitivity phase. She took a deep breath, tipping her head back to calm the rush of heat inside her.

She’s drunk, she reminded herself.
Wen Ranqing is drunk…

Chi Yi’s arms tightened just slightly around her—she couldn’t help it—and reminded gently,
“Director Wen, you’ve had too much to drink. This is still the office.”

Wen Ranqing was flushed all over, her eyes red with emotion. One glance into Chi Yi’s eyes, and she immediately buried her face again, utterly flustered. Her hot, damp breath puffed softly against Chi Yi’s chest. Her arms, held up so long, had grown sore and weak.

After a long pause, her voice came out barely above a whisper.
“…There are no security cameras inside the private elevator.”

Her breath hitched nervously even as she spoke.

The way she said it, and the look on her face—like she was offering herself up for a kiss—made Chi Yi’s ears burn instantly. Her body tensed; restlessness prickled just beneath her skin. This couldn’t go on.

It had already been five minutes, and the elevator hadn’t moved at all. Wen Ranqing, soft and pliant in her arms, clearly wasn’t listening to reason. If this went on, Chi Yi couldn’t guarantee she wouldn’t do something reckless. How had Dr. An even trusted her to take Wen Ranqing like this?

But—there was one thing she needed to confirm first.

“Hold on tighter,” Chi Yi said.

She had no choice. Using one arm, she reached out to finally press the elevator button. Then, quickly pulling Wen Ranqing back into her arms, the elevator began its slow ascent.

Wen Ranqing obeyed without hesitation. Her gaze flicked toward the faint red mark she had left earlier. It was already starting to fade.

The more she stared at it, the warmer her face felt… and also, just the slightest twinge of disappointment. Why is it that the hickey Chi Yi left lasted three whole days before it barely disappeared…?

Without realizing it, she leaned in again.

Just as her lips were about to brush Chi Yi’s cheek, Chi Yi looked down at her.

Even in her drunken haze, Wen Ranqing was struck with sudden, overwhelming shame. She froze—completely flustered—and buried her face against Chi Yi’s neck, burning up like she might boil over.

Chi Yi pinched the soft flesh of her arm—lightly, but with unmistakable pressure.

Her voice dropped low—firm and dangerous.
“Director Wen… did you just say there are no cameras in here?”

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