The White Moonlight I Chased, the Divorce I Never Expected - Chapter 54

Wen Ranqing froze.

Even though the last time Chi Yi had used those two words to tease her, she’d been so flustered she could hardly stand it—she still longed to hear them again. The moment the words slipped through the receiver, her eyes softened to near tears, and her heart began to pound uncontrollably.

Her sleepless nights had always stemmed from a lifelong restlessness of the heart. The only moments of joy, the only sparks of excitement—those had all come from Chi Yi. And Wen Ranqing accepted it all sweetly, gratefully.

She let out a light, almost imperceptible “mm.”

Suddenly, she missed Chi Yi so much. She longed to be wrapped up in that warm, sweet-scented embrace, to hear her call her that again—jiejie—softly and shyly.

The humid summer breeze caught the hem of her dress, but Wen Ranqing felt light, as if the heat had passed her by. A faint blush rose to her cheeks as she replied gently:
“It’s okay if you don’t know when you’ll be back. You don’t have to tell me—I’ll wait for you.”

Hearing that, a heavy wave of remorse rose in Chi Yi’s chest.

Wen Ranqing’s love had always been steady, unstoppable from the beginning—and Chi Yi had no right to hesitate or withdraw.

Since Wen Ranqing had made up her mind even without knowing what the end might look like, how could Chi Yi possibly fail her? How could she let someone so devoted, so stubbornly tender, suffer only to be left with a different outcome?

She wasn’t afraid of Wen Ranqing’s love being too intense.

There would be so much time ahead of them—she could learn, slowly, to love her in return.

Her hesitation and inner turmoil swelled until they brimmed at her eyes. She opened her mouth, and a breath of heat spilled from her lips. Over and over, she thought: Wen Ranqing’s love had never been less than hers.

It was clumsy. But fierce.

“Tonight…”

“I’ll come home tonight.”
Her throat was parched. She took a sip of coffee, but it still tasted bitter.

“Okay~”

It was 3 p.m.

She hadn’t said what time she’d be back. Six or seven counted as night. So did eleven or midnight.

It didn’t matter. Wen Ranqing was simply happy. Her voice—sweet, full of soft delight—cut through the speaker and landed right on Chi Yi’s heart, making it tremble again and again.

After watching Wen Ranqing’s slender silhouette disappear, Chi Yi sat quietly for ten more minutes. Only then did she get into the car where An Li had been waiting for her at the corner.

During those ten minutes, she hadn’t thought about anything else. All that filled her mind was how many more adaptation injections she’d need to take—and what she could do in the future to avoid hurting this soft and delicate woman.

Back at the research institute, she once again lay on the monitoring platform. Electrodes were attached to her forearm and the back of her neck, but her heart felt hot and restless.

With a soft beep, the latest scan printed out.

Chi Yi turned and saw An Li’s serious expression.

An Li spoke clearly:
“Your body is very different from President Wen’s. Your tolerance is much higher. You metabolize faster, and you’ve absorbed the enhanced-dose injection very well.”

“When’s the next shot?”
Chi Yi sat up, narrowing her eyes slightly at the freshly printed health report.

‘Patient’s hormone levels have returned to normal ranges…’

She didn’t bother reading further. This was her report—what she wanted to see was theirs.

An Li was repacking the suitcase from yesterday with a new batch of customized medication—alongside AO-specific injectable contraceptives and heat-phase catalysts.

“There is no next injection,” An Li replied.

She straightened up and met Chi Yi’s confused gaze.

“I told you—your body is not like President Wen’s.”

“The medication we give her can’t be too concentrated. Even so, her body only absorbs less than ten percent. That’s why she has to keep receiving regular, controlled doses over the long term.”

Chi Yi froze in place.

She glanced down at the faint injection marks on her arm, and the ache she felt for Wen Ranqing deepened. Her heart, in turn, grew more determined.

It had only been three hours since she’d returned for testing, gathered her things, and prepared to head back.

An Li, as a doctor, had said all she needed to say. But after working beside Wen Ranqing for four years, the concern and quiet care she now felt went beyond professionalism—simple, human emotion had taken root.

There was no need to explain any biological matters to Chi Yi. The two of them had already undergone more medical procedures than most couples ever would. But An Li still reminded her gently of their fundamental difference in physiology:
“With your current physical states, the likelihood of a severe incompatibility reaction isn’t zero. So please—Miss Chi, show some restraint.”

Chi Yi stiffened slightly. She hadn’t been planning anything specific over the next few days, but she had to admit—when it came to Wen Ranqing, she sometimes lost all sense of reason. An Li’s warning had its effect.

Chi Yi thanked her and returned to the hotel. The drive didn’t take long.

After packing her luggage and eating a simple dinner, Wen Ranqing had taken a shower and changed into her nightgown. She lay curled on the bed, her long responsibilities at the main office now gradually transferred to Wen Junze—leaving her with more and more time to think about Chi Yi.

They hadn’t seen each other for almost two days. And Chi Yi hadn’t contacted her at all the previous night.

But Wen Ranqing wasn’t anxious. If Chi Yi said she’d come back, she would come back.

She just… missed her a little.

Wen Ranqing regretted not saying “I miss you” earlier that day. Saying it now over the phone would feel awkward and forced, and she couldn’t quite bring herself to do it.

Clutching the edge of the blanket, she hesitated for a long while, then gave in—calling Chi Yi.

Was Xiao Yi on the way back? Still at work? Maybe having dinner with colleagues?

Those thoughts quickly bubbled up as the phone rang, and Wen Ranqing began to second-guess herself.

But this time, the call didn’t ring long.

It was cut off—and then the door clicked open.

Chi Yi stood there, right in front of her.

In the sweltering summer heat, the tall, slender woman wore a hoodie and carried a silver metal case. Her face was partially hidden beneath the hood, her expression unreadable, her body still unmoving at the door. But under her sleeves, her hands were trembling.

It all happened so quickly that Wen Ranqing’s lips parted slightly in surprise. She hadn’t expected Chi Yi to return so soon. After a brief moment of shock, she got up from the bed and walked slowly toward her.

Her heart pounded in her chest, her face filled with undisguised joy. She couldn’t even wait until she was fully close before she said it aloud:

“You’re back~”

That single, tender phrase instantly washed away all of Chi Yi’s hesitation—the fear that had gripped her while trembling at the keypad, standing frozen at the door. She stood still for a long time before finally setting the case down and suddenly wrapping Wen Ranqing tightly in her arms.

Chi Yi buried her face in Wen Ranqing’s neck, staring intensely at that fragile, delicate gland. Her eyes reddened almost instantly.

She had thought that once she was ready, she would no longer hesitate, no longer ache. But in the end, she couldn’t suppress it. The hunger, the guilt, the unease, the remorse—all surged together in her wildly beating chest.

Tears spilled down from her eyes before she could even blink. She clung to Wen Ranqing even tighter.

The warmth of the summer night still clung to her body, but Wen Ranqing didn’t notice it.

Because the moment Chi Yi hugged her, she smelled it—the faint, milky scent that had lived only in her imagination until now.

She had pictured it countless times, wondered how it might smell. And now it was real.

There was no time to think of anything else. A teardrop fell on her bare back, followed by the uncontrollable sobs of the woman in her arms.

In just a second, Wen Ranqing pieced everything together.

Something must have happened last night—An Li had taken Chi Yi away. And just as Wen Ranqing had asked her to… she had told her everything.

Suddenly, Wen Ranqing’s breath grew unsteady. Her chest ached with a sharp, sour pang.

It wasn’t panic.

It was regret.

Four years ago, she hadn’t been by Chi Yi’s side when she endured that endless darkness of her first secondary differentiation. She had the perfect body type to serve as a match—but this time… it felt like she had missed it again.

A fine, aching pain rippled through Wen Ranqing’s heart. The corners of her eyes flushed red in an instant.

It took her a long moment before she finally raised her hand and gently pressed it to Chi Yi’s shoulder, her voice soft and warm:

“Does it hurt?”

Yes.

Even now—it still hurt.

Chi Yi couldn’t bring herself to say a single word about her condition. Idiot… If it hurts you, does she not hurt too?

She looked at Wen Ranqing’s neck—at that fragile gland—with eyes full of pain and tenderness. The sorrow in her gaze hadn’t faded.

The truth was, it no longer mattered who had done what, or who had waited longer. That kind of accounting seemed so small now, next to what they had nearly lost.

Chi Yi’s voice trembled:

“Wen Ranqing…”

She paused.

Then quietly continued:

“Was it because of this… that you were afraid to love me? Because I never told you—and you were waiting…”

Because of her silence, they had loved each other from a distance, trapped in a relationship that looked whole but felt hollow. Her own cruel doubts—spoken aloud—had hurt Wen Ranqing over and over again.

“It’s not that, Xiao Yi.”

Wen Ranqing, for once, pushed herself away from the embrace with surprising strength. She needed to look Chi Yi in the eyes when she said this—only then would it feel real. Only then could Chi Yi believe her.

She said it again, firmly:

“It’s not.”

Chi Yi stood frozen, stunned for a second, trying to absorb that denial. But Wen Ranqing’s voice, rushed and earnest, didn’t stop:

“I was the one who had to convince myself to approach you.
I was the one hesitating all this time.
My Xiao Yi is so, so good—so good that I’ve doubted whether I even deserved your fire, your courage…”

Even if it meant showing every last shred of her vulnerability beneath that perfect, poised surface, Wen Ranqing wouldn’t let Chi Yi take all the blame.

Even now, part of her still wondered—had she done something wrong?

How did I turn such a brave little lion into someone so fragile, so guarded…?

The sadness in her peach-blossom eyes overflowed. Chi Yi felt her heart lurch.

She didn’t let Wen Ranqing speak another word.

Without hesitation, Chi Yi leaned forward and gently pressed her burning lips to Wen Ranqing’s forehead.

It was instinctual—something that came from the deepest part of her. Someone like Wen Ranqing—how could she ever let her think she belonged beneath her? That she should be the one reaching up, from the dirt?

She wasn’t a god.
Wen Ranqing wasn’t, either.

From the very beginning, all Chi Yi had ever wanted was to love her as an equal.

Even now—with all the sadness, the guilt, the remorse—no matter how much they’d hurt each other in the past through misunderstanding and missteps…

Her heart was surging with emotion, like a tide she couldn’t hold back.

Wen Ranqing’s lashes fluttered. Her voice fell silent. She let Chi Yi hold her like this—gently, lovingly, with sorrow and care.

Chi Yi leaned in closer. Her lips touched Wen Ranqing’s elegant brow… then the bridge of her nose… and finally hovered above her lover’s wide, glistening eyes.

Her own eyes burned with barely contained emotion.

Still, she needed to ask:

“Are you… not afraid?”

Wen Ranqing bit her lip and immediately shook her head—softly, but without hesitation. The words she wanted to say were stuck in her chest, too full, too heavy to speak.

The cold machines… the injections that always left her aching for days… how could she not be afraid? Her body responded with fear every time—it was instinct.

But when she thought of Chi Yi… as long as Chi Yi was in her heart, she felt peace. She felt brave.

She couldn’t choose the right words. There were too many.

She looked up at Chi Yi’s burning gaze. It was clear—this girl was waiting for her answer.

And in the silence, the air around them thickened—growing warm, soft, filled with unsaid promises.

“I’m not afraid.”

Her face was flushed, but she didn’t hesitate anymore. She hooked her arms around Chi Yi’s neck and leaned forward, pressing herself close:

“I love you…”

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