The White Moonlight I Chased, the Divorce I Never Expected - Chapter 37

The meeting ran until 11 a.m.

The construction preparations for the bridge were divided into five parts. Once the team completed the first two—organizational and technical preparation—the project would officially be handed over to the Engineering Department and the engineering management team. That would mark the end of Chi Yi’s responsibilities.

Technical preparation, being the final and most complex phase, involved on-site calibration, factory-level technical guidance, and a series of precise steps. Chi Yi couldn’t afford to relax.

Several project-related planning documents were piled on the meeting room table. Since she had already reserved the space in advance, Chi Yi and Qu Yinan decided to stay and work straight through the evening. It also made communication with the Finance and Administration departments on the floor below more convenient.

By around 8 p.m., Qu Yinan had completed the final round of verification with the bridge component factory. Usually composed and reserved, even she couldn’t help leaning back in her chair like Gao Tianzong often did, letting out a long sigh.

Gao Tianzong, roughly the same age as Chi Yi, was notoriously chatty. After a full day of coordinating with five or six department heads, his face was stiff from all the talking. He bared a row of small white teeth in a strained grin. “Ladies, let’s go eat something.”

Someone nearby asked what to eat. Gao Tianzong dragged his chair over to Qu Yinan, grinning like a flunky. “Sister Qu, you decide.”

As Qu Yinan sorted through her documents, she immediately caught on to what he was angling for. She glanced knowingly at Chi Yi, who was still focused on her laptop, and said, “Why don’t we ask Engineer Chi?”

Though Chi Yi’s position was slightly sensitive, it didn’t stop her from being known as competent, easy to work with, and—as a bonus—a quality single Alpha.

They were all in the same boat in the Project Design Department. Though they had gathered for team dinners a few times before, Chi Yi had politely declined every time. Now that the project was nearing handoff, after months of working together through thick and thin, everyone quietly hoped to connect with her on a more personal level—maybe even as friends.

On Chi Yi’s laptop screen were bearing model specifications sent from the factory. In the lower right corner, a chat window was open, filled with photos documenting Wen Ranqing’s cake-making process—each step from prepping ingredients, whipping cream, to mixing batter. The last photo had been sent about an hour ago: the filled mold sliding into the oven.

Hearing her name, Chi Yi looked up, her gaze meeting several pairs of expectant eyes.

“Engineer Chi, want to join us for dinner?”

Chi Yi turned to the one she was most familiar with—Qu Yinan, who smiled calmly. It was clear she shared the same thought as the others.

Right then, a new WeChat notification popped up. The final picture of the cream cake had just arrived.

The cake was small—about six inches. From the way the cream was spread, it was clearly the work of a beginner. But the charm lay in the few plump, fresh strawberries on top and the delicately tied ribbon around the packaging.

Chi Yi’s attention wavered for a moment, her eyes lighting up ever so slightly. Despite being completely thrown off by Wen Ranqing’s flirtation earlier that day—and ignoring every message until now—her lips finally curved into a subtle smile.

It all happened quickly. Qu Yinan, catching that hint of hesitation, smoothly stepped in to offer an easy out. “Engineer Chi, do you already have plans?”

“Mhm, I do have something tonight,” Chi Yi declined again, though her tone was noticeably gentler than usual.

“I have a prepaid card for a Japanese restaurant. We’ve all been working so hard together for so long. Honestly, it’s been my fault that everyone’s been pulling so much overtime. If you don’t mind, dinner’s on me tonight. When the project officially lands, I’ll treat everyone to a proper celebration.”

Chi Yi reached into her bag and pulled out the VIP card Song Yan had given her—the one supposedly loaded with five figures—and handed it to the very eager, practically salivating Gao Tianzong.

He perked up instantly, looking so animated that even the windproof goggles tangled in his hair somehow looked stylish. “Thanks, boss!”

Chi Yi wasn’t being modest. Ever since she returned to work, she was almost always the first to arrive and the last to leave. She held herself to a high standard, but never forced that same rigor onto her team. On the contrary, she made a point to remind them to leave on time.

Anyone good enough to work at Wen Group was already a standout. They each had their pride. But since Chi Yi joined, the project team had finally overturned the submarine tunnel plan that had long held them down. The work had been grueling, yes—but at least it had yielded real results.

At this moment, everyone’s expressions were light with relief. They said their goodbyes one by one as Chi Yi watched them disappear into the hallway elevator.

She sat alone in the meeting room for a while, packed up the documents, and moved everything into her office. Another hour passed before she finally clocked out for the day.

On the way home, she received another photo. The oven tray was neatly lined with rows of perfectly formed mochi—each round, compact, and noticeably more refined than the cake.

Wen Ranqing:
[The door code hasn’t changed. Xiao Yi, just come in.]

The more Chi Yi read, the more restless she felt—not just because it was rare for her adult self to crave sweets, but because her thoughts kept circling back to Wen Ranqing. Despite getting no replies all day, Wen Ranqing had kept sending updates. Clearly, she wasn’t in a much better state.

It was already 10:30 p.m. when Chi Yi arrived. Opening the door, she found the living room quiet and empty. Tilting her head slightly, she caught sight of the woman with long, loose black hair retrieving a tray from the oven.

Wen Ranqing looked like she had just showered. Her hair was still wet, the ends dripping onto her shoulders, dampening a patch of her sleepwear. The already light fabric had turned slightly translucent, clinging to her well-defined shoulder blades.

From behind, her delicate shoulder bones looked slender under the apron ties fastened around her waist. The soft, smooth lines of her body shifted at the waist—suddenly curving into something more full and tempting.

Chi Yi hadn’t even changed out of her shoes. She stood frozen in place, eyes briefly landing on that silhouette. Her leather bag strap was unconsciously gripped tight in her hand, the tension distorting its shape. But it was the sound of the door closing that made Wen Ranqing turn around and quicken her pace in setting down the tray.

Even though Chi Yi had said yesterday she wanted to try the cake, she hadn’t replied to any messages today. So hearing the door, Wen Ranqing’s heart filled with joy.

She walked over to Chi Yi, a droplet of water sliding down her snowy skin and disappearing into the dip of her collar—completely unaware of it herself. Her face still held the faint pink flush from her recent bath, and her smile betrayed her delight.

Wen Ranqing carefully restrained herself from drawing closer. She simply took Chi Yi’s small overnight bag and set it aside, then fell into step beside her, voice gentle and caring: “Xiao Yi, was today tiring? Would you like some water first?”

Chi Yi sat down at the dining table. The table was filled with freshly baked, sweet-smelling mochi. The hem of Wen Ranqing’s sheer nightdress brushed softly against her ankle. She accepted the warm glass of water and downed it in one gulp without saying a word.

Before she’d met this version of Wen Ranqing, Chi Yi had truly believed herself to be ascetic—detached. Aside from the occasional moment lying beside Wen Ranqing when her heart would beat too fast, she had never thought much of it.

Maybe it was also that her susceptibility period was approaching. All day at work, every time her thoughts wandered, they wandered to Wen Ranqing—her skirt, her perfume. That little fox was running wild through her mind, wreaking havoc with no signs of stopping.

Chi Yi didn’t see the pencil skirt that had haunted her thoughts all day—but she wasn’t exactly disappointed. Wen Ranqing in a nightdress was just as lethally alluring.

Her face remained calm and unreadable, but inwardly, she was at war. Her body made it clear: she wanted this.

The bathroom’s exhaust fan hummed, drawing out the steam, but somehow the surrounding air still felt warmer.

Wen Ranqing obediently took the glass from Chi Yi’s hand. Then, rising slightly on tiptoe, she reached for the powdered sugar on the upper shelf. Her arm stretched upward, lifting the hem of her sleepwear just enough to trace out the lines of her body and reveal a smooth, pale sliver of her calf.

The box was tucked too far inside—she couldn’t quite reach it. Her face flushed with embarrassment; even such a small request made her hesitant to bother Chi Yi. It took her a long moment before she finally said softly, “Xiao Yi… can you help me get the powdered sugar?”

Chi Yi looked away, her movements slightly quicker than Wen Ranqing’s words, though her footsteps were faintly unsteady—even the chair behind her shifted slightly.

As soon as she stepped closer, she caught the scent at Wen Ranqing’s neck. It wasn’t the wild rose of her pheromones, nor the perfume from earlier—it was simply the fresh fragrance of a woman who had just bathed: sweet and intoxicating.

The person she’d been thinking about all day was now right in front of her. That subtle, clean scent filled the air, wrapping Chi Yi in an aura of warmth and trust—an instinctive invitation to let go, to rely.

Wen Ranqing couldn’t hold herself back. She leaned forward slightly. “Xiao Yi…”

Chi Yi had just taken hold of the powdered sugar when something soft and fragrant pressed tightly into her arms. Wen Ranqing hugged her around the waist. She didn’t move any further, but just from that one action, her ears flushed crimson. She bit her lower lip nervously, painfully aware of her own forwardness.

The body Chi Yi hadn’t dared to look at earlier was now trembling against her. Damp warmth clung to their clothes. The heat in Chi Yi’s chest, which had been simmering all evening, flared beyond her control.

And yet every inch of Wen Ranqing’s body whispered the same message: Don’t hold back.

Chi Yi’s breathing grew heavier. Her hand instinctively gripped Wen Ranqing’s narrow waist.

“No biting,” she said firmly, cutting her off before she could speak. Chi Yi pinched her cheek gently.

She hadn’t forgotten about last night. That injury—she needed to make sure it had healed before things went too far again.

Her tone was commanding and left no room for protest. Wen Ranqing, out of habit, obediently parted her lips. But the pressure on her waist was too much. A faint moan escaped her throat, and her eyes turned red with shame as she realized what she’d just done.

She stared at Chi Yi’s face. Her black eyes were focused seriously on inspecting the wound—so serious, it didn’t seem to carry even a shred of desire. Wen Ranqing flushed from head to toe, embarrassed by her own thoughts. Her hands clung limply to Chi Yi’s waist.

The inside of her lower lip was still tender, a small fissure not yet fully healed. Chi Yi frowned slightly, unaware of Wen Ranqing’s emotional turmoil. She reached into her pocket for the medicinal powder and read the instructions before twisting the cap open.

A faint bitter medicinal scent floated through the air. Wen Ranqing’s heart tensed with unease. She knew Chi Yi disliked bitterness. She didn’t want every kiss between them to taste like medicine.

As Chi Yi dipped her fingertip into the brown powder, the other hand already resting lightly on her cheek, Wen Ranqing hesitated for a moment—then softly leaned in and brushed her lips along Chi Yi’s jaw. Her voice was quiet and coaxing.

“Can we wait a bit before putting it on, Xiao Yi…? Let’s have some cake first.”

She was desperate for a distraction. Her soft lips brushed gently over Chi Yi’s tense jawline. A strawberry, lightly coated in cream, was brought to Chi Yi’s lips. Her heart skipped a beat. All the teasing from morning till now surged at once—and she leaned in with a rough, hungry kiss, taking the strawberry along with it.

Juice burst sweetly in her mouth, dripping from the corners of their lips. Wen Ranqing gasped from the kiss, her knees going weak. Her fingers clutched Chi Yi’s waistband, and when she was lifted onto the cool surface of the table, her body shivered violently as she surrendered to the moment.

Chi Yi was intoxicated by it all—but the moment she sensed that Wen Ranqing was still unpracticed and perhaps overwhelmed, she pulled away. She kissed gently along the corner of her eye, then her ear, with quiet reluctance.

Wen Ranqing was dazed, breathing shallow as Chi Yi exhaled warm breath into her ear.

“Mhm… let’s eat the cake first.”

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