The White Moonlight I Chased, the Divorce I Never Expected - Chapter 35

The top-floor office of Wen Group was quiet and spotless, its glass walls gleaming under the soft lights.

The fine fabric of Wen Ranqing’s dress was wrinkled at the waist, creased by Chi Yi’s tightening grip. Her earlier words had broken through some invisible barrier—words sharp enough to shatter the last of the distance between them. Though Chi Yi had long sensed something beneath the surface, hearing it spoken aloud erased every last trace of hesitation.

She pulled Wen Ranqing in tighter, one hand pressing gently against her belly, while her lips teased the soft skin of her ear. Her voice was rough, hoarse from restraint.

“It’s not like you’re out drinking every day… so why keep drinking like that for so long?”

“Mm?” Wen Ranqing’s voice trembled slightly.

Her stomach was soft and smooth beneath Chi Yi’s hand. She didn’t have the same defined lines as Chi Yi, but the gentle curve of her belly was warm and pleasing to the touch.

Chi Yi’s teeth grazed lightly across her skin, eliciting a wave of tingling heat. It surged through Wen Ranqing’s core, shame quickly overtaking the residual discomfort. Her toes curled. Breath caught in her throat as she let out a few soft, helpless whimpers.

The desire in Chi Yi’s eyes could no longer be hidden. Her cool, clear voice had turned husky, like sand rubbed through silk. Wen Ranqing sobered up slightly, reaching for the milk bottle to offer it to Chi Yi, as if trying to ground them both.

But just then, a firmer press from Chi Yi made her whole body shudder, her strength melting away as she slumped into Chi Yi’s arms. Her outstretched hand was gently pinned behind her back.

“Xiao Yi… drink some milk…” Her voice was flustered, but her body betrayed her—arched forward, breathless. She sat firmly on Chi Yi’s lap, unable to move, her curves rising and falling with every uneven breath. She was utterly at Chi Yi’s mercy.

“Don’t move.”

Chi Yi’s grip on her wrist wasn’t light. Her sensitive skin must have already flushed pink beneath it. Once caught, Wen Ranqing no longer resisted—her whole body going pliant, so soft it was almost unbearable.

Chi Yi finally pulled away from her ear, her voice low and languid, wrapped in something dark and wicked.
“If Director Wen keeps moving like that… the only thing I’ll be drinking tonight won’t be milk.”

It took Wen Ranqing several seconds to register the words. Her face went crimson. Even her trembling stilled.

She didn’t know when Chi Yi had grown so bold—so dominant. But instead of resisting, her instinct was to obey. Even being teased like this… made her happy.

Chi Yi’s expression softened slightly. She held onto the warm curve of her waist, her other hand still gently massaging her belly.

“Mm?” she coaxed, “Tell me.”

Her long fingers easily covered most of Wen Ranqing’s midsection, radiating warmth. Maybe it was just psychological, but the pain really had eased a little.

Wen Ranqing was still flushed, her cheek pressed lightly against Chi Yi’s shoulder. Her eyes, still shimmering with tears, dampened the black fabric of Chi Yi’s dress.

She murmured, “Not every day… just a little when I can’t sleep.”

Chi Yi frowned, pulling her hands behind her back gently as she reached for a tissue with her long arms, wiping away the tears that had settled at the corner of Wen Ranqing’s eyes.

Her chest tightened inexplicably.
“When can’t you sleep?”

It wasn’t just one or two nights of insomnia that could damage her stomach lining like that. She must’ve tried medication first—and when it didn’t work, turned to alcohol. Chi Yi’s voice grew tense, her expression serious.

She remembered her father once saying her mother had gone through a spell of insomnia during pregnancy—anxious, restless, deeply unsettled. If Wen Ranqing was suffering like that, she thought, maybe she could take her to see the same traditional doctor who had helped her mother.

Wen Ranqing saw the worry etched into Chi Yi’s delicate brow. She bit her lip and subtly shifted forward, trying to close the distance.

Chi Yi was still recalling the doctor’s name when she suddenly felt a warm hand press lightly against her collarbone.

Wen Ranqing had never made the first move—except when she was drunk. It made Chi Yi want to laugh.

She gently pushed her back down onto her lap again, easily holding her in place. Wen Ranqing didn’t dare move this time.

Her eyes were damp, lips still red and full. She had wanted to steal a kiss to Chi Yi’s brow—but that little intention was clearly seen through. Flushed with embarrassment, she nuzzled her cheek back into Chi Yi’s shoulder, voice soft and teasing.
“Xiao Yi…”

Clearly, she didn’t want to answer the question. Chi Yi sighed. She’d just let it go—when Wen Ranqing whispered against her shoulder:

“Sometimes I can’t sleep. A little drink helps… and yes, I’ve tried meds too.”

Her delicate fingers traced soft circles over Chi Yi’s collarbone, her voice growing sweeter, like a plea:
“But if you were with me, Xiao Yi… I wouldn’t have trouble sleeping at all.”

Wen Ranqing often couldn’t sleep—whole nights lost to restlessness. With Chi Yi by her side, she felt more at ease. No alcohol. No pills.

She used to avoid going home. She knew Chi Yi didn’t belong to her. The more she craved her, the harder it became to fall asleep alone.

But there were always moments she couldn’t help it—just living in the room next door to Chi Yi, quietly leaving in the middle of the night if Chi Yi didn’t wake. It became a helpless, painful cycle.

Unless Chi Yi asked, Wen Ranqing never offered anything on her own. She was afraid of becoming too much of a burden, afraid that Chi Yi would come to resent her.

Chi Yi, assuming this was just drunk talk, didn’t overthink it. She mirrored Wen Ranqing’s earlier motion, drawing lazy circles around her waist with the pad of her finger.

A soft hum escaped Wen Ranqing’s throat, and she obediently wrapped her arms around Chi Yi’s slim waist.

“Where is Director Wen planning to sleep tonight?” Chi Yi asked, her voice cool.

Wen Ranqing thought she was agreeing—her eyes lit up, smiling sweetly as she looked up.
“Wherever Xiao Yi sleeps, I’ll sleep too.”

Chi Yi’s patience wore thin. She stopped massaging her stomach and pinched the soft flesh at her waist.
“Speak properly.”

Wen Ranqing’s eyes reddened slightly—not because she was scolded, but because she felt overly sensitive around Chi Yi. Every touch, every squeeze sparked an involuntary reaction—her body responding in ways she couldn’t hide, unintentionally signaling just how much she craved Chi Yi.

“I was going to sleep at the office…” she admitted breathlessly, her head resting against Chi Yi’s shoulder.

The office? In the lounge room?

Chi Yi knew there was a small rest area in Wen Ranqing’s office, but she’d never been inside. Judging by the space, it couldn’t be comfortable.

Her brows furrowed. She didn’t speak for a moment.

Sensing the shift in her mood, Wen Ranqing reached up to gently pinch Chi Yi’s earlobe, voice soft, coaxing:
“I can sleep anywhere. Don’t be upset, Xiao Yi… don’t frown.”

She paused.

Then, while Chi Yi was momentarily lost in thought, Wen Ranqing sat up on her knees and cupped Chi Yi’s face in her hands, her expression unusually serious.

“I’m in love with you, Xiao Yi. I’m not joking.”

Her fingertips slid gently through Chi Yi’s hair as she murmured,
“I like everything about you—every version of you. I didn’t have the courage to face it before… but now it’s my turn to pursue you.”

Wen Ranqing said she liked her. And not just now—she’d liked her before.

Had it started the night she made the first move?

Did she really not dare face her feelings back then?
Chi Yi thought of the photo Wen Ranqing always carried with her. Had she misunderstood everything this whole time?

Chi Yi, ever direct, asked the first thing that came to mind:
“Why do you always make me wear the same style of dress?”

“I thought Xiao Yi liked it…” Wen Ranqing replied softly.

The folds of her own dress were still wrinkled. In her mind, she saw the image of young Chi Yi—running around in princess dresses, flying kites, laughing, chasing others in the yard. Sometimes she’d tear the dress after just one wear. But there was always a new one waiting. Her favorites, always replaced. Never repeated.

After hearing that explanation, Chi Yi’s hands tightened slightly around her waist. She looked at Wen Ranqing intently. Just as a trace of guilt began to rise in Wen Ranqing’s eyes, Chi Yi spoke with calm understatement:

“Got it. Please continue, Director Wen.”

She was ‘Director Wen’ again.

Wen Ranqing bit her lip in embarrassment, but she pushed through the shame and continued:
“I know Xiao Yi has a temper… and not much patience for me. You might still mind the way I was too timid before…”

To her credit, she had seen the hesitation lingering behind Chi Yi’s eyes. Whether it was shock at her confession or simply disbelief, Chi Yi knew the reason she wasn’t rushing forward now was because she wanted to be sure.

She didn’t want Wen Ranqing making such a bold choice on a whim.

Chi Yi wasn’t someone who played around. If she accepted someone, it had to be someone she saw a future with—long-lasting, stable. Not a fleeting moment of passion.

Maybe Wen Ranqing was right.

They needed time.

“You can reject me, or ignore me,” Wen Ranqing said softly. “But I’ll wait until the day you’re the one who kisses me first…”

By the time she finished, her eyes were misty again, lips trembling slightly. She looked up at Chi Yi, holding her breath.

Just holding herself back was already hard enough—Chi Yi couldn’t pretend she was unaffected, much less say no.

Her peach blossom eyes shimmered with water, a hint of innocence glinting within. Wen Ranqing, soft and obedient, spoke with the kind of gentleness that wrapped around each word like cotton. Chi Yi’s expression remained calm, but inside, her emotions surged uncontrollably.

She couldn’t deny it—this new version of Wen Ranqing was far too lethal.

For a long moment, Chi Yi said nothing. Wen Ranqing’s eyes began to sting, tears threatening to fall. She didn’t dare blink, terrified they would spill over. I shouldn’t have confessed so soon, she thought. Chi Yi must be scared off.

She bit down on the soft flesh of her lip, trying to force herself back into composure. But just as she lowered her gaze to apologize, Chi Yi’s thumb gently rubbed against her waist, and a wave of heat rolled through her.

Chi Yi tilted her head, gaze locking on Wen Ranqing’s flushed face. Her posture was firm, almost domineering. She leaned in, her voice low and coaxing, like a whispered spell.

“I want to kiss you right now.”

The tone wasn’t exactly gentle—it was playful, teasing, almost wicked.

Wen Ranqing’s breath caught entirely. Her eyes blinked once—and two perfectly round teardrops slipped free.

Chi Yi gave a soft, upward-lilting hum in response—half a question, half a prompt.

But nothing struck deeper than those five words. Her heart trembled. She knew now that Chi Yi wanted to kiss her. She looked up slowly, eyes locking on Chi Yi’s lips, and whispered shyly:

“I’m wearing lipstick…”

Chi Yi wasn’t going to sleep with her tonight—if her face got smudged, someone might see. Just imagining that made Wen Ranqing flush with anxiety.

Chi Yi let her stare, the corner of her mouth quirking up at Wen Ranqing’s flustered daze.

Wen family heiress… not much hands-on experience. Even kissing requires a full strategy session, she thought.

Chi Yi leaned closer again. “Then help me wipe it off.”

Wen Ranqing was already burning up. Still perched on Chi Yi’s lap, she turned slowly to grab a tissue, gently, carefully wiping her lips—her hands shaking with nerves, yet soft with care, afraid of hurting her.

Maybe it was all the biting, but Wen Ranqing’s lips had returned to their natural hue—red, plush, and glistening. Impossible not to want to kiss.

“Don’t laugh, Xiao Yi…” she mumbled, cheeks scarlet, feeling like she might melt under Chi Yi’s heated gaze. The air between them thickened with intimacy, the kind you could almost taste. “Helping wipe someone’s lips before kissing them is already embarrassing enough…”

“But Director Wen,” Chi Yi replied, voice teasing, “you really are wiping them very slowly.”

She couldn’t wait anymore.

Chi Yi gently tilted Wen Ranqing’s chin up with two fingers, caught her trembling wrist in her other hand, and leaned in.

Their lips met.

Chi Yi’s heart pounded, every beat demanding more. She had no experience kissing before—but somehow, instinct guided her. Tongue, lips, breath—it all came together in a heady rhythm.

Wen Ranqing could only respond passively, melting beneath the pressure, her body softening into Chi Yi’s hold. Her back lost strength, unable to support herself.

Chi Yi’s kiss, like her presence, was bold and commanding. Wen Ranqing had no defenses against it. Heat and hunger swelled within her, fogging every thought until she could only sink deeper into it.

It wasn’t a long kiss, not drawn-out or overly slow—but Chi Yi noticed how Wen Ranqing’s shoulders quivered, how she practically melted in her arms. She stopped in time.

Wen Ranqing gasped softly for breath, letting out a few fragile whimpers. Her whole body was flushed, still dazed from the kiss—soft, sweet, completely undone.

In the past, she’d always had to be the brave one, daring only to kiss the corner of Chi Yi’s lips. She’d never really known how soft those lips were—never felt the dizzying rush that now tingled through her entire body.

Chi Yi exhaled slowly, regaining her own breath. She gently wiped away the tears at Wen Ranqing’s eyes, her voice still husky, her throat dries from desire.

“You didn’t like it?”

Wen Ranqing leaned weakly against her shoulder, wrapped in the overwhelming warmth of being kissed by the Alpha she loved. But she didn’t want Chi Yi to misunderstand.

She shook her head softly, then opened her mouth, voice barely a whisper:

“…I liked it.”

Support