The White Moonlight I Chased, the Divorce I Never Expected - Chapter 56

There was a lingering sense of quiet intimacy between the two of them.

The one lying down leaned in without resistance, almost bonelessly, nuzzling close and asking silently for a kiss. The knot tied with the smooth silk ribbon tightened slightly with the smallest movement, and Chi Yi’s eyes began to sting with emotion.

It wasn’t that she feared their pheromones might be incompatible, or that touching might cause Wen Ranqing pain strong enough to provoke a reaction. If that were the case, why would she have prepared herself so willingly?

Chi Yi’s heart ached dully. Her fingertips turned pale from the pressure she used to undo the knot. She couldn’t stand seeing Wen Ranqing so wronged. Kneeling there helplessly, she didn’t even realize her eyes had filled with tears.

“Xiao Yi…” Wen Ranqing murmured.

Her breathing was slightly unsteady. As an Alpha seven years younger, Chi Yi exuded a natural sense of dominance, and for the first time, Wen Ranqing truly understood what Chi Yi meant when she had once said, “It feels like bullying an older sister.”

They hadn’t even started, yet Wen Ranqing’s skin was already damp with a sheen of sweat. She bit her lip, unsure and nervous, shifting just slightly, her watery eyes searching Chi Yi’s face.

She just wanted to say something to comfort her. Whether or not their pheromones matched could only be known after contact. Softly, gently, she called out again, “Xiao Yi…”

Her hands circled behind Chi Yi, wrapping around her in a light embrace. Apart from her hands, there was no other physical contact. Chi Yi had to clench her jaw to hold her gaze steady against those eyes filled with longing.

Wen Ranqing held her so gently, and yet it felt as though she had completely taken hold of Chi Yi’s heart, stirring both tenderness and concern.

Chi Yi leaned in and kissed Wen Ranqing softly on the ear, her voice husky and low:
“I’ll only release a little pheromone. If it makes you uncomfortable, you must tell me.”

For an Alpha, a temporary mark simply required a light bite to the gland and the release of a small amount of pheromone.

Their reactions weren’t as intense as an Omega’s, and any foreign scent lingering on them would fade quickly. However, it often brought a strange sense of unease.

Omegas, in contrast, often found comfort in this kind of reverse marking. It reassured them, even soothed feelings of fear or anxiety.

Wen Ranqing was highly sensitive. She gave a soft, almost inaudible hum in response. She had never even considered saying no, but Chi Yi’s gentle concern still warmed her heart like sweet milk candy.

The wild rose scent that naturally clung to Chi Yi had long since started pushing her toward a susceptibility phase. Even so, she hesitated for a long time before finally, carefully, releasing a faint trace of milk-sweet pheromone.

It was a simple scent—gentle and warm—slowly invading Wen Ranqing’s senses, pulling up all the tender memories that had grown since that first piece of milk candy.

The moment Wen Ranqing sensed Chi Yi’s pheromone, her entire body and heart seemed to sigh in relief.

Chi Yi’s heart thudded heavily. She studied Wen Ranqing’s expression closely, terrified that her pheromone might cause discomfort. But Wen Ranqing’s long lashes only trembled lightly, her peaceful expression silently reassuring Chi Yi that everything was okay.

As the milk scent deepened, Chi Yi finally relaxed. She sat beside Wen Ranqing and gently cupped her cheek with one hand, full of affection.

Wen Ranqing really didn’t show any signs of discomfort.

Maybe she had been too afraid of the worst—too unwilling to accept a different outcome.

That realization burned in Chi Yi’s chest.

There was no need for more words. The first kiss fell on Wen Ranqing’s smooth forehead. Even though it wasn’t necessary, Chi Yi still kissed her gently, helping her adjust.

By the time the kiss ended, Wen Ranqing’s legs were already shaking.

She had misunderstood.

Even without their past, without guilt, and even putting aside Alpha instincts—Chi Yi, by nature, was always bold and direct in her emotions.

She avoided Wen Ranqing’s lips, already reddened and swollen from kisses, and instinctively kissed the side of her ear again.

The mingled scents of flowers and milk still lingered, curling through every corner of the room.

Chi Yi looked down gently at the woman curled in her arms, breathless and unable to speak. After a long silence, her voice came out hoarse:
“Let me go for a second, hmm? I’ll get you a cup of hot water.”

“…Okay.” Wen Ranqing still clutched the front of Chi Yi’s bathrobe, her gaze unfocused as Chi Yi sat up. Her eyes settled on those long, slender legs—strong yet distinctly feminine. Her senses were overwhelmed by that familiar, long-desired scent of warm milk, and her heart and body were fully at peace.

“Hurry back…”

Her sultry, alluring voice was now reduced to a soft whisper, even gentler than a kitten’s purr. Chi Yi’s throat was still dry, and looking at Wen Ranqing’s flushed skin tinged with pink, she quickly turned around, barely able to contain herself, and murmured a quick “Okay” before leaving the room.

Several minutes passed, and Chi Yi still hadn’t returned. Wen Ranqing’s blush hadn’t faded. Her eyes gradually refocused, and only after a long while did she relax her body slightly.

When Chi Yi came back with a warm towel, she was met with that very scene. Her heart had only just started to calm down from the waves of her nearing susceptibility period—but now it flared again. She stood quietly at the door for over ten seconds before walking over and kneeling on the bed to gently begin wiping her down.

Wen Ranqing could barely keep her eyes open. The discomfort of her heat was eased entirely by the scent of milk. Even so, she couldn’t help but lift her hand to cover her eyes, weakly surrendering to Chi Yi’s tender care.

“You’re really not uncomfortable anywhere?”

Chi Yi’s youthful, charming face was filled with concern, and her voice was low and soft. She left a warm yellow lamp on, lifted the covers, and lay down. Wen Ranqing, dressed in the white silk nightgown Chi Yi had just helped her change into, immediately curled back against her.

Her thick hair tickled Chi Yi’s shoulder, her whole body soft and light, nestled tightly into her embrace—yet she wasn’t doing anything more than just lying there.

Knowing how silently Wen Ranqing endured things, Chi Yi’s heart ached. She still worried that Wen Ranqing might feel discomfort from her pheromones but wouldn’t say anything, choosing to bear it alone.

Chi Yi had gone through that same pain herself. After enduring it for so long without telling anyone, she couldn’t help but wonder if Wen Ranqing might be doing the same—enduring silently because their pheromones weren’t fully compatible.

“…I’m fine,” Wen Ranqing whispered, wrapping her arms tightly around Chi Yi’s slender waist. Her forehead rested lightly on Chi Yi’s collarbone, her ears glowing red with embarrassment.

No matter how shy she was, Wen Ranqing always gave feedback when Chi Yi asked. After a moment of hesitation, she added in a tiny voice, “…It really doesn’t feel bad…”

No one could resist such a sincere response.

Chi Yi was stunned for a second. Then she looked down—and there Wen Ranqing was, barely holding onto consciousness, still trying to talk. She was dazed, half-awake, yet so unintentionally seductive that it stirred Chi Yi’s heart with tenderness.

Suddenly, Chi Yi was reminded of the first time, when she was eight years old, that she had shared a bed with Wen Ranqing.

It had been a stormy summer night. Chi Yi was curled up in a guest room at the Wen family’s house, holding onto a secret she’d never dared tell anyone—she was afraid of the dark, of thunder that shook the windows, and the emptiness that followed the rain’s rhythmic patter.

Before she turned five, Chi Zhong would sometimes pat her back and soothe her softly to sleep, sneaking out once she dozed off. But ever since she started preschool, that comfort was gone.

Chi Zhong had taught her to be a responsible, independent girl. He held firmly to the belief that she needed to learn to stand on her own.

Chi Yi’s mother had passed away early, and with a family history of heart problems, her father had wanted her to learn self-reliance as soon as possible. If she hadn’t been too young to safely handle fire or gas, he might have left her alone at home already.

A crack of thunder roared across the sky, shaking the windows.

Tears gathered at the corners of her eyes. Little Chi Yi couldn’t hold it in any longer. Wrapped in her blanket, she left the guest room.

The Wen household was large—and empty.

The adults lived on the first floor. Despite how sweet and polite Chi Yi had been during her short stay, she hadn’t gotten close enough to Wen Ranqing’s mother to be cuddled at night or ask for comfort.

Maybe it was because she never had a mother growing up. She didn’t quite know how to interact with older women. She was lively and charming around adults like her father’s friends, but never good at showing vulnerability.

Another thunderclap. Chi Yi’s face didn’t show it, but her fingers gripped the blanket tightly. Her lips turned pale.

Even the most independent, strong-willed child can’t help but panic when faced with their deepest fears.

She crouched by the third-floor wooden railing, staring at the floor below, trembling. There was no one she could turn to.

She didn’t know how much time had passed, until, through the sound of pouring rain, she heard a familiar voice from below:
“Chi Yi?”

The voice was cold, but soft and pleasant. It was enough to instantly soothe Chi Yi’s anxious little heart.

She turned around from where she leaned against the railing. Her pale face peeked through the gaps, and she saw Wen Ranqing, just coming out of her room with an empty glass.

She couldn’t see her clearly, but the familiar figure somehow felt safe—enough to replace her fear.
“Ran-jie…” she whispered.

Her voice was so faint in the sound of the rain. They had only known each other for about ten days, and the only connection between them was a shared fondness for milk candy. Chi Yi, still a noisy, sugar-loving child, hadn’t yet left much of an impression on Wen Ranqing.

Chi Yi saw her eyes shift just slightly, her expression unreadable. Then, standing at the railing on the second floor, Wen Ranqing spoke calmly:
“It’s two in the morning. You should get some sleep.”

The already graceful and elegant young girl didn’t leave immediately. She watched until the little girl, wrapped in a blanket, started moving back toward her room—only then did she turn and head downstairs to get a glass of water.

From behind, Chi Yi watched as the door—just barely within her view—closed again with a soft, indifferent click. Light peeked out from underneath.

She crouched there for another ten minutes.

And then, little Chi Yi couldn’t hold it in anymore.

She went downstairs and knocked gently on Wen Ranqing’s door.
“Jiejie…”

But the unrelenting thunder drowned out her soft voice. Cold sweat broke out on Chi Yi’s back, and her whole body tensed. When no response came, she turned the doorknob and walked in.

Wen Ranqing was half-reclining against the headboard, reading a book. This was someone who barely spoke beyond a polite “thank you” when given candy. Yet under the soft glow of the warm yellow light, her quiet, aloof features looked inexplicably inviting.

Chi Yi walked toward her, slightly flustered under Wen Ranqing’s calm gaze. She nestled herself onto the edge of the cool silk bed. The bed was large; there was still plenty of distance between them.

Other than the sound of rain and occasional thunder, the air was silent for a long time.

Wen Ranqing had never experienced a strange little girl crawling into her bed like this before.

Her hands paused on the book, her expression first puzzled, then faintly troubled. She had never been disturbed so boldly or unceremoniously in the stillness of night.

Before Wen Ranqing could say anything, Chi Yi acted first. She curled up beside her like a small ball, nudging against her side through the blanket, her pale little face emerging as she whispered, “Jiejie…”

At the next crash of thunder, Chi Yi flinched. Her small form pressed slightly on Wen Ranqing’s blanket, burying her soft cheeks into the bedding at Wen Ranqing’s waist. The comforting scent surrounding her made Chi Yi feel instantly safe.

It was obvious—she was afraid of the thunder and couldn’t sleep alone.

Wen Ranqing didn’t quite understand how she felt either. Maybe her emotions stirred because of this pitiful little troublemaker’s unexpected vulnerability. That faint scent of milk on Chi Yi, too, unknowingly made her more likable.

In the end, Wen Ranqing said nothing. She simply replied in a calm voice, “Go to sleep.”

The silk blanket that had only moments ago belonged to someone else was now warm beneath Chi Yi’s short limbs. Her small, tear-streaked face slept soundly through the next day, right until noon.

That one night marked a turning point. For the rest of that rainy summer, Chi Yi became increasingly adept at climbing into her bed. Even if there was always a blanket between them, she alone was granted the rare privilege of falling asleep snuggled close and being gently patted through the night.

Back in the present, Chi Yi’s gaze drifted from the ceiling to the soft figure lying beside her. Her chest felt full. She no longer questioned her feelings, only gently stroked Wen Ranqing’s shoulder to soothe her into sleep.

“Xiao Yi…”
Wen Ranqing nuzzled against her, eyes already closed, surrounded by the scent that calmed her. She murmured, “You still haven’t asked me if I liked your original pheromone…”

Chi Yi paused. She pulled the blanket up, tucking it carefully around her, and smiled, asking softly, “Then… do you?”

Wen Ranqing had once, many times, rested against her shoulder saying, “I’m sorry.” Even when Chi Yi wouldn’t look at her, she had still brought her specially made suppressants tailored to her body. She had said so many times, “I like every version of you.”

The moment Chi Yi learned the full truth about their past, she already knew the answer to this question. Wen Ranqing had always made her feel secure—removing every doubt and opening her arms to her, waiting.

Now, asking again only because she rarely saw Wen Ranqing openly express her affection in such a soft, childlike way, Chi Yi thought, I really should coax her like this more often.

“I like it… I really like it.”
Wen Ranqing’s groggy voice lifted slightly at Chi Yi’s words. Pressed against her heart, she sincerely poured out her feelings.

She had liked Chi Yi when she carried the scent of aged wine—strong, cool, confident. But after learning that Chi Yi could recover, she couldn’t help longing for the milky-sweet little version of her once more. She loved her, loved her deeply.

But ultimately, as long as it was Chi Yi, that was all that mattered.

And then, she fell into a deep, peaceful sleep.

Chi Yi knew Omegas couldn’t be left alone during their sensitive phase—especially not Wen Ranqing. Once she was sure she was asleep, Chi Yi stayed beside her until almost 4 a.m. before quietly getting up.

She brought the crumpled pillow down to the floor and gathered the clothes scattered nearby, heading into the bathroom.

Her bathrobe hung loosely on her shoulders. At the base of her collarbone was a faint mark, and her back and waist bore a few light red scratches. Staring into the mirror, Chi Yi spaced out.

That woman… after all that time, hadn’t even gotten close to the back of her neck. It wasn’t that Chi Yi didn’t want Wen Ranqing to mark her. She did. She wanted to carry her scent.

But Wen Ranqing was just too shy. She could barely tolerate Chi Yi’s kisses, let alone do something like marking her.

Chi Yi subconsciously pressed her fingers to the kiss mark, her cheeks flushing as she stepped into the shower.

She started with lukewarm water, letting it run for a few minutes to cool the faint heat rising in her body. Only then did she turn the temperature up and allow the steam to fill the bathroom.

Chi Yi missed Wen Ranqing’s warmth. But more than desire, she only felt protective. She didn’t want to hurt someone so delicate. With a soft exhale, the Alpha tilted her head under the stream, washing away the sweat and tension from her skin. Her muscles finally relaxed.

She showered with care, as if scrubbing away days of exhaustion.

Still groggy, she turned off the water, dried herself, and didn’t even bother blow-drying her hair. She threw on her bathrobe, draped a towel over her head, and pushed open the bathroom door.

Wen Ranqing’s scent instantly washed over her.

“Xiao Yi…”

Her face was flushed, eyes-tinged red—like she had woken up mid-dream and, upon realizing Chi Yi wasn’t there, had rushed to find her.

Wen Ranqing threw herself into her arms. Chi Yi stumbled back until her back pressed against the glass bathroom door. She let the woman cling to her like an insatiable little fox, kissing and nibbling at her face.

Caught off guard, Chi Yi’s mind swayed with emotion. After a few moments, she steadied her breath, wrapped an arm around Wen Ranqing’s waist, and gently nudged her back a little.

“Did I mark you too lightly just now? Are you uncomfortable and can’t sleep well?”

After all, pheromone compatibility was still a serious concern. It was the only explanation Chi Yi could think of.

Wen Ranqing pursed her lips, cheeks glowing, her eyes warm with emotion. She mumbled in a soft, pleading voice:

“I just… want you to stay with me…”

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