The White Moonlight Omega Has Amnesia and Always Tries to Seduce Me - Chapter 52

At three o’clock in the afternoon, Qin Huai, dressed in a black suit, appeared at the conference hall entrance with her advisor and Han Yishuang.

This exchange meeting was unlike ordinary banquets with their clinking glasses and small talk; instead, the atmosphere was entirely solemn. Pale-colored flowers were clustered at the base of the podium, and a large screen behind it displayed the prepared image: red text on a white background, simple yet rigorous. Below the podium were rows of seats; only the front row featured comfortable sofas, while the rest were simple chairs covered with white slipcovers.

The invitation specified the seating.

Qin Huai took her invitation out of her pocket, slid it across the table toward the staff, but upon glimpsing her advisor’s invitation card, she pressed a finger to her own and pulled the delicate card back.

“Excuse me,” Qin Huai took another card from her pocket, “It’s this one.”

Although Qin Huai was quick, the two people next to her were registering names and didn’t notice the little incident. However, working at a five-star hotel, even the worst eyesight would improve over time.

The staff member at the door was a Beta with a very friendly demeanor. After the advisor and Han Yishuang registered their names, she took a pen from her own pocket, uncapped it, and offered it with both hands. “Miss, yours.”

Qin Huai: “?”

The staff member gestured to the registration book she held and smiled, “Miss, do you have any other questions?”

“No,” Qin Huai took the pen, her clean fingers gripping the black gel pen as she lowered her head and wrote her name.

Quite a few people had already entered the hall and were sitting in their seats, casually scrolling through their phones to pass the time. Qin Huai followed her advisor to their seats. They were not very far forward, but in a corner position toward the middle. Qin Huai wasn’t particular about seats. She pulled out a palm-sized piece of paper from the inner pocket of her suit, unfolded it, and began to read it closely, with her eyes cast down.

Before leaving today, her arm was really sore and she couldn’t lift it.

Shen Zhi, knowing she was at fault, took a pen and paper and obediently transcribed it for Qin Huai in a corner.

Halfway through reading, many more people came in and took their seats. Qin Huai quickly finished browsing and put the paper away. As she put it back into her pocket, her phone vibrated “buzz-buzz” twice.

She knew who it was without guessing.

Qin Huai lit up the screen, and a slew of nuisance messages popped up. The content itself wasn’t too improper, but the use of emojis and emoticons suggested a hint of wild abandon.

[Shen Xiaozhi: Sister’s not home today (kiss-heart), the room’s open (kiss), coming (finger-hook)?]

The attendees of this conference were all serious-faced, formally dressed, and sat correctly in their seats, consulting information saved on their phones, afraid of missing any crucial detail and losing an opportunity. Qin Huai was the exception. In this unnoticed corner, all the concealed things, the things that dared not be publicized, were freely displayed.

Qin Huai pursed her lips, her narrow eyelashes slightly raised, the dense black naturally concealing all emotion in her eyes.

She stared intently at the text, hesitated for a moment, and finally chose to reply instead of dimming the screen.

[Qin Huai: Wait for me obediently to come back.]

After sending that message, the other side indeed went quiet. Qin Huai dealt with all the unread messages on the page, then turned off the screen.

Training a dog is never an overnight thing. If she only strikes her palms without giving her any sweets, the dog will grow farther and farther away over time.

When the front row was full, the exchange meeting officially began.

First, the host came on stage, followed by the organizer to speak. Most of what was said was polite formality. Qin Huai clapped in response, her eyes showing no trace of impatience.

When the third person came on stage, Qin Huai, who had been leaning back in her chair, was startled when she saw a male Alpha in a suit and leather shoes walk onto the stage, a rare look of astonishment flickering in her eyes.

It was Shen Zhi’s father.

Separated by less than five meters, the middle aged male Alpha’s face lacked the gentleness of their last meeting, exuding instead the authority of a person in a high position.

Qin Huai took a photo and sent it to Shen Zhi.

[Qin Huai: You came too?]

The reply was quick, as if waiting for this message at any moment.

[Shen Xiaozhi: Got discovered (finger-rub)]

[Qin Huai: Then where are you?]

[Shen Xiaozhi: Sitting with my parents.]

Shen Zhi’s father was on the stage, so who Shen Zhi was currently with was obvious. Qin Huai felt an emotion called ‘guilt’ well up inside her for some reason. Before closing the chat box, she specifically instructed Shen Zhi not to send her any more messages.

As the organizer of the event, Shen Zhi’s father briefly explained the necessity of holding the event, so he didn’t have much to say, finishing in about two or three minutes.

As Qin Huai watched that figure descend the stage, the phone in her hand suddenly vibrated “buzz-buzz” twice again.

[Shen Xiaozhi: My mother invited you to dinner tonight.]

The applause for the middle-aged Alpha’s exit was intermittent. Qin Huai sat up straight and immediately saw the young Alpha in the first row.

Compared to the seriousness of the Alphas around her, Shen Zhi was dressed slightly more casually. She was also wearing a shirt and suit, but her hair was tied back with a silk ribbon bow, and she was calmly gazing at the stage.

That Shen Zhi was very different from her private self. The youthful, flamboyant temperament was replaced by the innate Alpha pressure. She didn’t need to speak; just sitting quietly there was enough to make all dissent vanish.

Qin Huai looked at the sentence-ending message and replied with difficulty.

[Qin Huai: Okay.]

As soon as Qin Huai agreed, the phone, which had been silent, vibrated “buzz-buzz” again, even drawing a glance from Han Yishuang sitting next to her.

Qin Huai immediately silenced her phone and waited for the host to invite the next speaker.

The host was a tall female Omega, who first said a great deal of thanks, and then redirected the topic to the next person.

“Professor Qin Zhijing published a paper this year, and its release astonished the entire industry. Please welcome Professor Qin to the stage to speak.”

It had been over half a month since the Qingming Festival that Qin Huai had last seen Qin Zhijing. This kind of relationship might seem strange in other families, but in Qin Huai’s view, it was the norm.

The words Qin Zhijing spoke that rainy day seemed to linger in her ears. Qin Huai was reminded of them simply by seeing him.

“Good afternoon, fellow colleagues.”

Qin Huai sat quietly below the stage, watching the person on stage earnestly speak about the future development direction of his later stage suppressants.

Amidst the respectful gazes of the crowd, Qin Huai, uncharacteristically, lost control and got up to leave.

She went straight to the restroom. Because of this conference, the hotel had stopped operating much earlier. Now, everyone was gathered at the exchange meeting, and there was no one to be seen in the corridors or restrooms.

Qin Huai didn’t care whether she had makeup on or not; she only knew she needed to calm down right now. So when the cold, stimulating water splashed on her face, she finally took a heavy breath.

After the Qingming Festival, she had placed herself in a sealed box, not wanting to know anything about the outside world, not wanting any entanglement with it. It should have been that way; she was just a grain of sand in the world, falling into an unknown corner, and it would be perfectly fine to live out her life without any waves.

What was the use of researching a suppressor with no side effects?

Survival of the fittest is inherent in nature. This world has existed for so long, and no one has ever tried to correct its various detours, so why should she?

Does her mother’s death matter?

The person is gone anyway, and dwelling on it further would only mess up her own life.

This world is a mess.

Qin Huai sighed, raising her face to look at the Omega in the mirror. Her eyes were lifeless and cold, and all the negative emotions on her pale face were exposed, making her appear hateful.

Just let it be. Don’t think so much. Don’t force yourself to do anything.

Just live a normal life.

Coming out of the restroom, Qin Huai had lost the interest to keep listening. She went to the simple resting area next to the conference hall.

“Wasn’t that Qin Zhijing just now? After all these years, he really looks like an Alpha.”

The rest room door was ajar, leaving only a tiny crack. The female Omega inside spoke carelessly, without any attempt to hide her voice. Qin Huai’s hand, which was about to push the door, paused, and then gently dropped.

“I wonder what Gu Qing ever saw in him?”

“Gu Qing saw something in him? You must be joking. As far as I know, Gu Qing didn’t like him at all back then; she only had to marry him because she was pregnant and had no choice.”

“She didn’t like him, but she got pregnant?”

“Who knows. But after getting pregnant, Gu Qing just seemed to vanish.”

Another fragment of the past. Qin Huai only needed to hear one word, and her body involuntarily became agitated. Her head buzzed, her heart felt like it was going to leap out of her chest, and her nerves were numb, causing her mind to go completely blank at that moment.

“What are you talking about?”

There were three Omegas sitting around a table inside, holding wine glasses, drinking and chatting. They looked to be in their early forties, but their skin care was so good that not a single fine line was visible. Hearing the sound of the door opening, the three Omegas all looked toward the entrance.

When Qin Huai washed her face just now, she forgot that she was wearing makeup. After that little bit of damage, aside from her lipstick smudging, there were no other changes. Water stains mottled the collar of her shirt, making her look slightly disheveled.

Those attending this conference were either established in academia or wealthy, so how could they be intimidated by the Omega in front of them? The Omega in the main seat glanced lightly at her and said, not too harshly, “How rude.”

Qin Huai no longer cared what others said about her. Completely devoid of rationality, she couldn’t even manage a rebuttal and could only repeat one sentence, “What exactly happened?”

Her voice was hoarse and weak, like a piece of white paper that could be easily pierced.

The Omega in the main seat clearly had no interest in humoring her, but the Omega next to her spoke up, “What does what we’re talking about have to do with you?”

How could it not matter?

The name Gu Qing represented too much for Qin Huai. In an instant, too many images flashed through her mind: the accusations of her maternal grandparents in childhood, the sharp sounds of arguments, shattered bowls, and being locked outside like a stray dog.

How could it not be important?

She thought she could let go, live a life as insignificant as a grain of sand, but upon hearing Gu Qing’s name, she realized it was impossible.

Qin Huai rarely cried, because crying, in her view, represented a display of incompetence, and also because she had shed too many tears as a child, exhausting her supply for now.

But now she was crying, tears falling uncontrollably, as if there were a sponge in front of her, and only by continuously crying could that sponge be saturated with water.

“Because she’s my mother,” Qin Huai said, closing her eyes as a tear slid down.