The White Moonlight Omega Has Amnesia and Always Tries to Seduce Me - Chapter 39
It was a Monday morning. Several Omegas were gathered at a table having breakfast, while Alpha students, arriving right on time, were rushing to put on their white lab coats by the coat rack. The changing room was filled with the faint aroma of soy milk and the sound of boisterous chatter.
Shen Zhi rushed out of the elevator, holding her breakfast. She coincidentally bumped into a Beta student who was just opening the door to the changing room to leave. The Alpha was dressed in a simple black tracksuit, with her dark hair swept up by the wind. She was tall and had delicate features. The Beta’s gaze fell on the breakfast in the Alpha’s hand, wrapped in a white plastic bag, with a layer of condensation misting the innermost layer.
“No breakfast delivery today, huh?” The Beta retracted his gaze and chuckled teasingly.
Shen Zhi had been at the lab for almost two weeks. Initially, due to a lack of understanding and the forum’s negative portrayal of her, almost everyone thought she was a difficult Alpha to get along with. But after they got to know her, they realized the forum’s description of Shen Zhi was both accurate and inaccurate.
Shen Zhi certainly didn’t refuse Omegas, but that was limited to typical requests for help, with the only exception being Qin Huai. Saying she had a domineering personality was also untrue; at twenty, she was slightly audacious in her speech and actions, but she didn’t impose her views on others. As for the allegations of secretly taking photos, that was baseless, as mobile phones were strictly forbidden in the lab.
After interacting with her, everyone had grown to like this excellent and outgoing Alpha junior.
“The person wasn’t there,” Shen Zhi looked past the Beta into the changing room, seeing only two or three late Alphas ravenously eating at the table. She retracted her gaze and asked with a smile, “Senior, have you seen Qin Huai?”
The entire lab knew about Shen Zhi’s pursuit of Qin Huai. The Beta smiled mysteriously and said, “She went in early. I heard she went in with Senior Sister Han.”
Shen Zhi raised an eyebrow, a slightly surprised expression on her face.
Han Yishuang was Qin Huai’s Senior Sister and the Alpha everyone had teased Shen Zhi about on her first day at the lab. Almost all the seniors knew that she had a crush on Qin Huai and were just waiting eagerly for Qin Huai to break up so she could pursue her.
“Keep up the good work,” the Beta patted Shen Zhi’s shoulder, encouraging her. “I’m rooting for you.”
Shen Zhi quirked her lips and smiled casually, “Thank you, Senior.”
After the Beta left, the Alpha shrugged her shoulders, lowered her eyes to stare at the breakfast in her hand, then “slap,” she threw it into the trash can by the wall.
When Shen Zhi entered the lab, everyone was quietly standing at their desks. The only sounds were the subtle clinking of glass and the faint footsteps. She followed her usual routine and glanced at Qin Huai’s workbench. The Omega was sitting at the desk, lips pressed into a hard, cold line, quietly observing the experiment’s reaction.
Familiar with this step, Shen Zhi quickly walked over and handed a beaker to Qin Huai, “Senior Sister, here you go.”
“Thank you,” Qin Huai took the beaker, briefly glanced at Shen Zhi, and then lowered her head, continuing with her experiment.
The cold glass left her hand. Shen Zhi briefly clenched her hand and stood behind the Omega.
Last night, she had messaged Qin Huai, inviting her to have breakfast together this morning. But when she rushed over this morning, she didn’t see anyone downstairs at the dorm. She thought she was too early until a horde of Omegas poured out of the dorm right before class. Then it dawned on her: she wasn’t early; Qin Huai was clearly avoiding her.
Shen Zhi looked for a chance and asked when Qin Huai was recording data, “Senior Sister, why didn’t you wait for me this morning?”
The Omega’s fingertips paused, but she didn’t lift her eyes. “Did I say I would wait for you?”
“Then did you not see my message last night?”
“I saw it.” Qin Huai dropped her pen, turned to look at Shen Zhi, her expression distant and cold. “But did I say I agreed?”
“But”
“Shut up.” Qin Huai looked away, picked up her pen, and interrupted the Alpha’s explanation. “If you disturb me again, get out.”
So, for the entire morning, Shen Zhi didn’t get a chance to say a single word to Qin Huai. Finally, at noon, people in the lab started leaving one after another, and the corridor gradually fell silent again. Qin Huai was the last one to finish recording data, stretching her stiff neck.
The empty lab was left with just her. Someone had forgotten to turn off a piece of equipment, and its low “buzz” was very audible. Her goggles felt heavy, pressing down on her nose bridge until it felt like it would break. Fortunately, the morning’s data was accurate. She would need to go to the library in the afternoon to reorganize the materials.
The lab bench had a double-layer shelf, with a rectangular instrument placed on the second layer. Qin Huai turned off the instrument, took off her gloves, and prepared to head straight to the library with her laptop after eating.
At this stage of the experiment, most of the online information was no longer valuable for reference. She could only rely on the information provided by Zhou Yue to expand her research. That Saturday, when she saw Gu Qing’s experimental notebook regarding the reaction of the first generation inhibitors, a new idea sparked in her mind. So, she asked Zhou Yue for the formula for the first-generation inhibitor.
Qin Huai spent all of Sunday researching the notebook. Ultimately, as Zhou Yue had speculated, Gu Qing also suffered from “estrus-induced amnesia.” However, the core of the problem was that none of Qin Huai’s grandparents or maternal grandparents had this disease, and there was no history of it in her family line. Yet, Qin Huai had the illness. Therefore, the problem could only stem from Gu Qing.
How did Gu Qing contract the illness?
That answer had likely vanished from the world with Gu Qing’s death.
But Qin Huai had a faint premonition: Gu Qing’s illness was inextricably linked to the first-generation inhibitor. And she, by virtue of this experiment, had coincidentally opened a lock entangled by vines and covered in dust.
While she was washing her hands, the tightly shut back door of the lab was suddenly pushed open with force. The doorknob hit the wall with a dull thud.
Qin Huai’s train of thought was disrupted, and she looked over with an unhappy expression. Hao Yan stood angrily in the doorway, clutching a thick stack of documents and staring at her.
Qin Huai pretended not to notice, turned off the faucet, and pulled out several paper towels to dry the water on her hands.
Hao Yan’s anger instantly flared. She strode over to Qin Huai in a few steps and threw the pile of documents at her. Qin Huai quickly dodged, and most of the files fell to the floor, though two or three accidentally struck her body.
Qin Huai’s expression immediately turned cold, and she asked in a low voice, “What are you going crazy about?”
“What am I going crazy about? Are these all what you gave to the professor? Do you especially like showing off, making yourself look so capable and everyone else insignificant?”
Several pages had fluttered out of the blue hardback cover, and a few unintentionally landed on the sink. The metal sink hadn’t dried completely, and a large patch of the dry paper became water-logged.
Qin Huai glanced at it, recognizing the sharp handwriting and familiar content. It was the data she had stayed up late to organize that night. “If you don’t like it, just throw it in the trash, no need to come find me specifically.”
“What are you acting like?” Hao Yan was stunned by her detached attitude. “Isn’t this the data you collected?”
“It is the data I collected.” Qin Huai folded her dampened sleeve and said calmly, “But my collecting this data is like you needing to get food before eating. Once the goal is achieved, do you care how much effort was spent in the middle?”
“Are you saying” Hao Yan’s round eyes suddenly widened, her gaze filled with shock. “Shen Zhi?”
Light footsteps outside the corridor suddenly stopped.
Qin Huai raised her thin eyelids and, as she walked past, gave a fair assessment, “Not completely stupid.”
The sound of footsteps and equipment blended together in the lab, buzzing like firecrackers in Lin Qiu’s head.
She suddenly looked up, her voice laden with resentment, “Qin Huai, I can still write this paper without your data.”
“Suit yourself.” Qin Huai paused her steps, perfunctorily finishing the conversation, and then reminded her, “Pick up those papers later and throw them in the trash.”
For things that could be easily accomplished without wasting mental effort, Qin Huai only felt pity for the time lost. As for the joy gained from the results of labor, she felt none. Just like the moment Lin Qiu threw those documents, all she felt was regret for the time she had spent staying up late.
Qin Huai opened the door. Just as her body emerged, a pair of large hands suddenly covered her mouth. In a panic, she instinctively bent her elbow, intending to strike the abdomen of the person behind her, but the person’s chest was broad, and an arm wrapped tightly around her from behind, leaving her no space to struggle.
Qin Huai was hugged and taken into the changing room by the person behind her, followed by the sound of the door closing.
“Senior Sister.” Shen Zhi held Qin Huai tightly from behind, as if trying to merge with her. “You still say you don’t like me?”
The outside light was sliced into thin, long strips by the bamboo blinds. The room was private and dimly lit, very much like a secluded spot for lovers’ trysts.
All of Qin Huai’s nerves tensed up. The Alpha’s nose tip lingered freely on her neck, her lips occasionally grazing a spot on her skin, bringing a slight itch. She lifted her neck, and the loose line immediately tightened into a straight one. “Let go. Do I need to remind you?”
“No, I won’t let go. Qin Huai, I like you, and I want to be with you.”
“And then?” In the dim light, Qin Huai’s eyes felt dry and strained. “What about your fiancée?”
“My fiancée is you.” The patch of skin on Qin Huai’s neck was like creamy white tofu. Shen Zhi couldn’t bear to ruin its beauty, daring only to graze it with her lips as if to satisfy a craving. “Why don’t you believe me?”
Her voice was husky, like the striking of a match.
Qin Huai suddenly opened her eyes wide. Her gaze was bright, staring straight at the spot of light near the window. She said coldly, “Liar.”
Shen Zhi’s lips stopped, and she looked over in confusion.
“How many times do you think the same lie can fool me? I’m completely sober now, not the brainless Omega during the heat.” Qin Huai lowered her gaze, her movements cold and determined as she broke free from Shen Zhi’s embrace.
After she spoke, she took a step back, widening the distance between them. “Stay away from me from now on.”
“Stay away from you, and then what?” Shen Zhi said, “Wait for Han Yishuang to stand in my place, and I have to watch you from afar again?”
“What does Han Yishuang have to do with this? I just don’t want to see you.” Qin Huai roughly unbuttoned her lab coat, took out her phone from the storage cabinet, and didn’t spare Shen Zhi a glance as she brushed past her.
Stepping out of the academic building, the sense of disappointment weighing on her heart scattered considerably with the blow of the wind. Qin Huai collected herself and walked toward the cafeteria alone.
Having missed the peak mealtime, the number of people eating in the cafeteria had significantly dropped. There were almost no long queues or crowded tables, but all the seats were taken.
Qin Huai didn’t receive a message from Liu Nian at the cafeteria entrance, but she did get a call from her. As soon as the other person spoke, her voice was bitter. “Huai Huai, when are you coming back? I forgot my key.”
Liu Nian forgetting her key was a common occurrence, and Qin Huai was used to it. “I’ll be back in a while. What do you want to eat? I can bring it back for you.”
“Huh? Didn’t the takeout you ordered already get delivered?”
To boost business, the campus restaurant had specially collaborated with some enterprising students to create an online ordering mini-program. Compared to external delivery services, this program allowed users to choose appropriate delivery personnel based on ABO status and gender, and the food would be delivered upstairs to the dorm. Liu Nian had just arrived at the dorm and saw a meal box placed at the door, assuming Qin Huai had ordered it.
“I didn’t order anything.”
“Then who did? Let me check.” Liu Nian opened the plastic bag and found no sticker on the takeout. She said in surprise, “Someone must have left this at the dorm door.”
“It must be a mistake then. Don’t touch it. I’ll buy something to eat. Just text me what you want.”
After hanging up, Qin Huai was about to put her phone in her pocket when the screen suddenly lit up. Thinking it was Liu Nian, she glanced at it but saw it was an unsaved contact.
[I bought two meal boxes and had someone bring them back to your dorm. Remember to eat them.]
Qin Huai didn’t need to guess who it was. She was about to hang up and block the number when she remembered that throwing away the two meal boxes would be a waste of food. She had no choice but to open WeChat and transfer the money to the person before considering the matter settled.
The lunch was light and refreshing. After eating, Qin Huai lay down for a short nap. When she woke up, the transfer message still showed “unreceived.” Out of sight, out of mind, Qin Huai simply blocked the person and then rushed to the library before two o’clock.
The library had many empty seats on weekdays, as many people with classes would simply use a book to reserve a spot. Qin Huai chose a seat by the window and stayed there for half the afternoon. It wasn’t until the library lights turned on that she packed her things and returned to the dorm.
She had pretty much finished organizing the experimental data, and she spent the remaining time researching the first-generation inhibitor formula provided by Zhou Yue.
Qin Huai wasn’t hungry in the evening and planned to head straight back to the dorm. Just as she was nearing the dorm entrance, her phone chimed.
[I’m waiting for you at the lab building. There’s something I want to explain to you.]
It was another anonymous message. Qin Huai was immune to these messages. She tapped the screen twice, and just as she was about to turn off the screen, her phone chimed a few more times.
Only this time, the tone was much more eager than before. Qin Huai scanned the messages, frowned, and turned to head toward the lab building.
[Senior Sister, Hao Yan has blocked me at the academic building. Can you help me?]