The White Moonlight I Chased, the Divorce I Never Expected - Chapter 40

“…Can we take tomorrow off?”

Her long hair spilled across the bed, entwined between them. Having just been temporarily marked, Wen Ranqing’s body was flushed and feverish, a light sheen of sweat clinging to her skin. She lay beside Chi Yi, speaking softly into the space between them.

The mark had only just been completed. Both of them were still in the throes of their susceptibility periods—an emotionally unstable time for any Alpha or Omega. It was common knowledge that during this phase, unless one was marked by a bonded partner or taking continuous suppressants, irritability and overstimulation were frequent and sometimes even led to minor public incidents.

Chi Yi understood Wen Ranqing was thinking about her wellbeing—and yet, the simple sound of that request made her heart race all over again. Her lips parted, and the air that escaped was searing hot.

She thought of Chi Zhong.

Even after all this time, Chi Yi could feel she was still a weight on her father’s heart. Getting him to accept the divorce had already been difficult. If his health declined due to the emotional strain—or worse, if he forced himself to accept her happiness but lived each day in quiet misery—that was the last thing Chi Yi wanted.

If she wanted to be with Wen Ranqing, she had to cut away all lingering burdens completely. She had to do what her 18-year-old self once dreamed: to care for Wen Ranqing fully, to protect someone this soft and delicate, and never let her be wronged.

Chi Yi had never been a hesitant person. She didn’t dwell on outcomes. She acted on instinct—loved what she loved, let go of what she didn’t. What came next was always a mix of timing, fate, and effort.

Except now.

For the first time, she was thinking of the end before the beginning. Because it involved Wen Ranqing.

That was why she would never allow herself to act on any desire—not unless it was sincere. No matter how impulsive her behavior had been earlier, Wen Ranqing was someone Chi Yi treasured. Truly. A precious person placed gently on the tip of her heart. How could she ever bear to hurt her by dragging her into a situation too complicated or painful to endure?

Chi Yi didn’t respond immediately. The silence didn’t last long, but it was long enough for Wen Ranqing to sense her hesitation.

With her cheek pressed to Chi Yi’s slender shoulder, she could hear the thrum of her heartbeat so clearly. Wen Ranqing forced herself to push down the discomfort still lingering from her heat, lifted her head slightly, and said softly, “I told you… you don’t have to feel pressured with me, Xiao Yi. I’ll support whatever decision you make. You don’t have to worry about anything.”

If Chi Yi chose to go to work tomorrow, that was her life—something she loved. Wen Ranqing could stay home alone. She’d always done that. One more day—or two—made no difference.

But strangely, her throat tightened, her chest ached, and her eyes began to sting.

Just imagining Chi Yi not staying made her feel uneasy—anxious and inexplicably sad. After the mark they had just shared, her attachment had begun to grow without restraint. A growing, instinctive greed.

This side of herself felt unfamiliar. She ached with shame at the thought of it. Her gaze fell to Chi Yi’s pale neck and chest, and her heart clenched with panic.

Her voice, still elegant and warm in tone, trembled slightly—and Chi Yi noticed.

With her head resting on a soft pillow, Chi Yi tilted down and saw Wen Ranqing’s trembling lashes. Her flushed face, damp with tears. And just as their eyes met, a tear slipped down and landed squarely on Chi Yi’s chest—scorching hot, like it might burn right through her.

“…Why are you crying?” Chi Yi’s voice was hoarse, her arm wrapping gently around Wen Ranqing’s shoulders as she rubbed them in comfort.

But Wen Ranqing turned her face away, said nothing, and simply trembled.

Chi Yi couldn’t bear to see her cry like this—not because it tested her patience, but because it made her heart ache. She turned to lie on her side and pulled her into her arms.

Silky dark hair veiled half of Wen Ranqing’s face, only her reddened nose peeking out—sensual and heartbreakingly fragile. Chi Yi brushed back the tousled strands and coaxed gently, “Tell me what you’re thinking… please?”

Still caught in her flurry of emotions, Wen Ranqing couldn’t say no to her. She looked up at Chi Yi, lips slightly parted but still silent—only her soft, uneven breathing betraying her thoughts. She shook her head faintly.

She couldn’t even understand Chi Yi’s thoughts right now, nor define what they were to each other. How could she dare burden Chi Yi with the messy, overwhelming feelings churning in her own heart?

Her shallow, fluttering breaths grew more disordered. She squeezed her eyes shut, her whole face red with embarrassment. Like the softest little fox—vulnerable, silent, unable to hide. And somehow, even this made Chi Yi’s heart race wildly.

Chi Yi drew in a shaky breath and tried to steady herself. Then, taking Wen Ranqing’s hand, she placed it firmly over her own chest.

“If you don’t say anything, sometimes I can’t help but think… maybe I did something wrong. Something that made you sad—but you won’t tell me.”

“…Did I hurt you when I marked you earlier? Or are you still uncomfortable?”

The moment Wen Ranqing’s fingers touched the spot above Chi Yi’s heart, she trembled. Reflexively, she tried to pull back, but Chi Yi gently held her hand in place. Her face turned crimson instantly.

When she heard those words—so careful, so worried—her throat tightened. The heat rushed up her cheeks. Panicked, she finally spoke:

“…You did really well, Xiao Yi.”

She had read and heard stories of Omegas suffering after being marked—of how, if things weren’t done right, it could cause pain or even lasting damage.

But her Xiao Yi had been so careful.

So gentle.

Chi Yi had done everything right.

“…It’s my fault.”
Wen Ranqing gave a small sob and couldn’t bring herself to say more.

Chi Yi didn’t respond immediately. She let Wen Ranqing rest against her and feel the erratic rhythm of her heartbeat. There was a flash of pain in her clear eyes, her lips curved downward, visibly distressed.

Wen Ranqing shifted her legs under the hem of her nightdress, pressing them together shyly. Her face flushed deeper with embarrassment, eyes filled with uncertainty and unease. Her silence stretched on as her emotions simmered unbearably.

Chi Yi had meant to play stern with her—pretend a little to coax a reaction. But seeing her like this now, so vulnerable and ashamed, all she could feel was an aching tenderness.

Just as she was about to release Wen Ranqing’s soft wrist, the woman suddenly reached up, grasped her collar, and kissed her.

Her lips were tender and warm, though the kiss was rushed and clumsy—hesitant and shy, never deepening. Just soft, trembling touches, tinged with blooming fragrance. The brush of her nightdress hem across Chi Yi’s leg was like a gentle static, tingling down to her bones.

Chi Yi’s susceptibility hadn’t fully faded, even with the suppressant. The kiss caught her off guard. Shock gave way to a growing heat, and her fingers slowly curled with restraint. She could stop herself from fantasizing—but when Wen Ranqing kissed her first, she wasn’t going to sit there like a block of wood.

This kiss—awkward and bashful—was Wen Ranqing’s way of expressing the affection she couldn’t voice aloud. Chi Yi furrowed her brow slightly and pressed her lips to Wen Ranqing’s to steady her, then gently pushed her back.

The heat between them was palpable. Even after being marked, Wen Ranqing’s pheromones hadn’t weakened much; the floral scent still filled the room.

In that moment, Chi Yi realized—she had been wrong.
The answer had always been in Wen Ranqing’s eyes. Those soft, alluring eyes had spoken long before any words were exchanged.

Her throat worked as she swallowed back the dryness, then asked, voice hoarse, “…Is it because of me?”

Her cool, steady tone was laced with unmistakable heat, her question—Have you fallen for me?—dropping like a stone into the already turbulent waters between them.

Wen Ranqing’s heart skipped a beat. She was so embarrassed she could hardly breathe. Not a single word escaped her, but her pheromones had already betrayed her—broadcasting everything.

Nothing explicit had happened between them, and yet Wen Ranqing was already trembling with the weight of emotions she couldn’t say aloud. She turned her face away, gently rubbing her cheek against the back of Chi Yi’s hand like a timid fox—seeking comfort, silently pleading.

The two of them were still a breath apart, but it felt like Wen Ranqing was brushing up right against Chi Yi’s heart.

In that instant, desire burst into flame.
Chi Yi’s whole body tensed, a tremor running through her. She leaned down and pressed a soft kiss against Wen Ranqing’s ear.

It was just a kiss—and not even their first. But the moment Wen Ranqing realized her every movement was under Chi Yi’s focused gaze, she flushed uncontrollably with shyness.

Darkness cloaked the room, making every sensation sharper, more intimate. Chi Yi’s gentle lips drifted from her ear to the corners of her mouth, lingering and playful, like sparks teasing flame.

If the lights were on, one would see the flush that had bloomed across Wen Ranqing’s cheeks.

She had never experienced anything like this. As Chi Yi’s kiss finally landed on her lips, all resistance crumbled. Though overwhelmed with embarrassment, she surrendered—slowly, shyly, but willingly.

The floral scent of roses gradually softened, giving way to the clean, mellow notes of whiskey in Chi Yi’s pheromones—calming, grounding, like a balm for an Omega’s restless heart.

Chi Yi gently pulled her into her arms.

“…Xiao Yi…”
A long while passed, but Wen Ranqing was still flushed with embarrassment from the kiss. Her voice, soft and lingering, sounded almost like a spoiled plea. It was only her name—but it melted Chi Yi to her very core.

The waves of heat from her susceptibility began to ebb, just slightly. Noticing that Wen Ranqing was still wearing only a nightdress in the chilled air-conditioned room, Chi Yi wrapped a light blanket around her. “Do you want some water?”

Curled against Chi Yi’s shoulder, Wen Ranqing breathed shallowly. Her head felt fuzzy—an aftereffect of being temporarily marked for the first time. The chaos of pheromones surging in her Omega system made her drowsy and dizzy.

The crisp scent of Chi Yi’s pheromones surrounded her, calming and sharp. After a long moment, Wen Ranqing finally gave a small nod and answered quietly.

Chi Yi got up to pour her a warm glass of water. Still worried, she paused before returning and sent a message to An Li, inquiring about Wen Ranqing’s condition. The reply wasn’t alarming—only that it was rare for an Omega to receive their first temporary mark at thirty, so the side effects would likely be stronger.

Leaning down, Chi Yi kissed her gently on the brow and eyelid. It was only then that a slow, glowing sense of satisfaction began to bloom in her chest—not only because their relationship had deepened, but also because, piece by piece, she was finally beginning to understand the Wen Ranqing she hadn’t known in all those quiet, unspoken years.

Handing her the glass, Chi Yi said, “Want to take a bath now? It’s getting late—we should rest soon.”

Her voice was low and husky with fatigue. She reached out and switched on the wall lamp. A warm, golden light spilled over the room, casting everything in a gentle, ambiguous glow.

Chi Yi didn’t have the heart to tease her anymore. Without another word, she scooped Wen Ranqing up in the blanket and carried her into the bathroom. She tested the water, dropped in a bath bomb, and once Wen Ranqing was soaking in the warm tub, most of the exhaustion on her face eased.

Tall and slender, Chi Yi wasn’t wearing her own robe—it hung a little short on her frame. Her long, fair legs were left exposed, striking in proportion and almost dazzling in the low light.

By now, Chi Yi was learning Wen Ranqing’s nature—how easily she got embarrassed over the smallest things—so she left her to bathe and headed to the adjacent shower. But just before she left, Wen Ranqing leaned forward against the edge of the tub. Her delicate fingers clung softly to the porcelain, and her other hand tugged faintly at the hem of Chi Yi’s clothes. She bit her lip, her face burning, saying nothing.

Around them, their pheromones still lingered in the air, twining together in silence. Both were reluctant to part.

As if something gently clicked into place in her mind, Chi Yi suddenly remembered Wen Ranqing’s quiet plea from earlier. She bent down and kissed her again—on her still-swollen, glistening lips—and murmured:

“…Mm. I’ll take the day off tomorrow.”

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