So I Had No Choice But to Stop Being the White Moonlight – Chapter 103
by Little PandaI’m Not Going to Be the White Moonlight
The Beginning of the Beginning
No Wonder Miss Chi Was Staring at Me So Intently Just Now
Yuan Ming wanted Chi Qian to let go of Shi Jinlan, to live out an enviably fortunate life in the world she had tailor-made for her.
But just as that segment of memory didn’t belong to Chi Qian, this tailor-made life didn’t belong to her either.
After her resolute rejection, however, came a stretch of dazed confusion.
Chi Qian didn’t know how she returned to Shi Jinlan’s world; she only felt that the timing of her return was a little off.
Shi Jinlan, swept up by the sea, had arrived on their small island.
The moment she awoke, her eyes, filled with vigilance and wariness, instantly stretched the distance between them back to how it was at the very beginning.
“Who are you?” Those cold fingers pressed against Chi Qian’s wrist, the steadily tightening grip showing no intention of easing up.
Chi Qian was still stunned when the words came out of her own throat: “My name is Chi Qian. I saw you collapsed on the beach alone yesterday, so I, I brought you back.”
The autumn cicadas1 drew out their cries. In the gradually cooling early autumn, their sound was mournful and plaintive, making one’s heart heavy.
Chi Qian realized that after she had cursed out the System, it seemed to have sent her back to the starting point.
Although the season was wrong, the story was developing much like it had when Chi Qian was carrying out her mission.
Except, sometimes her body would move out of her control, tending to the injured Shi Jinlan with even more eagerness and familiarity, as if confirming the way her heart had pounded uncontrollably that night she found her.
Slowly, Chi Qian felt that she hadn’t returned to the starting point.
It was more like she had fallen into a memory.
“This isn’t the first lifetime we’ve known each other.”
Shi Jinlan’s cool voice sounded by her ear.
And Thirteen had also told her that her memories had been deliberately sealed by the System behind the segment of memory it had grafted onto her.
So this wasn’t a rebooted future.
It was the past.
She had fallen into her and Shi Jinlan’s past.
A past without the System’s interference.
The Original Owner hadn’t been destroyed by the System.
She was the Original Owner.
“Aiyo!”
A sharp pain came from the top of Chi Qian’s head. Unprepared, she instinctively cried out.
Puffs of steam drifted from the air holes of the medicine pots lined up in a row. A figure had been standing on the clean concrete floor.
Chi Qingyan looked at Chi Qian, who was sitting on a small stool in a daze, and rapped her on the head without any hesitation.
“Grandfather?”
Clatter-clatter!
Chi Qian was still rubbing her forehead in a dazed pain, confused by Chi Qingyan’s action, when she heard what sounded like the lid of a medicine pot being lifted by boiling water.
“My medicine!” Chi Qian snapped back to her senses and saw that the medicine for Shi Jinlan, which she had placed right in the middle, was boiling over.
That was the medicine she treasured the most!
Chi Qian first opened the lid, then pulled out a few branches to reduce the fire’s intensity.
After a moment of frantic scrambling, she thankfully managed to keep the medicine from scorching.
“Phew—” Chi Qian let out a long sigh of relief.
But Chi Qingyan gave her no chance to relax. “Why do you seem so distracted lately? What’s going through that little head of yours all day long?”
Faced with Chi Qingyan’s questioning, Chi Qian reacted cleverly, smiling as she told him, “Of course I’m thinking about how to sort the new medicinal herbs that arrived today, how many batches it will take to grind the list Grandfather gave me, and also…”
Here, Chi Qian paused. The smiling expression on her little face immediately turned to one of distress, the emotional switch exceptionally smooth. “…what to do about Grandfather’s spot quiz this weekend.”
In this memory, Chi Qingyan was very strict with his granddaughter, Chi Qian.
Even though the current her had already graduated from university with a degree in nursing, she was still being pushed by Chi Qingyan to learn everything she needed to know about traditional Chinese medicine without missing a beat. After graduating and returning home to work, besides completing her main duties, she also had to face Chi Qingyan’s regular spot quizzes.
It was only with this memory that Chi Qian realized the reason her Sundays had previously been idle enough to sunbathe all day was actually because Chi Qingyan’s weekly spot quizzes had been missing.
“If you’re worried, then prepare properly.” Facing Chi Qian’s display of difficulty, Chi Qingyan showed no mercy, even reminding her, “If you’re as ridiculously wrong as you were last week, I’ll be using the thick discipline ruler.”2
Hearing that phrase, Chi Qian’s palms clenched reflexively.
Chi Qingyan was the type to do exactly as he said. Growing up, Chi Qian’s palms had had more than a few intimate encounters with the discipline ruler that hung in Chi Qingyan’s room.
Chi Qian remembered that once in elementary school, to escape punishment by the ruler, she had burned it as firewood.
As a result, Chi Qingyan had nonchalantly pulled an even thicker ruler out of a drawer. Not only did she fail to escape her punishment, but it ended up being even heavier.
Whether it was a fear of pain or a fear of bitterness.
The things that made Chi Qian feel dread and frown reflexively all had traceable origins in her memories.
But what good did it do to remember?
She still couldn’t escape the fate of a potential beating from Chi Qingyan.
Chi Qian, dejected, dragged out her words as she nodded. “I know.”
Hearing her tone, Chi Qingyan gave his granddaughter a deep look, then added, “The medicine is almost ready. Remember to take it to Miss Shen.”
“Mm,” Chi Qian nodded.
She felt that the only thing that could console her right now was seeing Shi Jinlan.
And although the current Shi Jinlan was cold toward her, her enthusiasm for getting closer wasn’t the least bit dampened.
Chi Qian discovered that she wanted to get close to Shi Jinlan from the bottom of her heart. Like a fool, even when Shi Jinlan showed her rejection, she would still try to stick her hot face to a cold butt.3
Because she liked Shi Jinlan.
Because in this memory, she liked Shi Jinlan, too.
Just as it was written in the book.
Just by catching a glimpse of Shi Jinlan’s unconscious face in the moonlight, she had fallen in love at first sight.
The rich, bitter aroma of the medicine wafted through the air as it was strained. The brown color was not exactly appetizing.
The dried salted plums that had been sunning in the courtyard during the summer had been put away. Chi Qian picked two nice-looking ones from a glass jar to bring to Shi Jinlan along with the medicine.
It seemed the current her couldn’t match the thoughtfulness of the past her; the gesture of bringing the dried plums was something the past her had initiated.
Chi Qian looked at the dried plums on the plate and felt a baseless sense of dissatisfaction.
Even though she had done it all herself, she was drawing a clear line between the ‘now’ and the ‘then’, her competitive spirit flaring up as if she had to compare herself with her past self through this memory and prove something.
But in this very first round, she had already lost.
“Miss Shen.” Chi Qian entered the room carrying the medicine, seemingly having forgotten to knock in her eagerness to see Shi Jinlan.
Sunlight streamed in from the window opposite the door, enveloping Shi Jinlan’s back.
Even sitting in a wheelchair, her superior figure was evident. Her long hair was loosely tied up, revealing a stretch of pale neck. Golden light sprinkled upon it, her fair skin as delicate as cool jade. Even the simplest, plainest clothes on her exuded a natural nobility that made her feel distant.
There wasn’t much to do for entertainment in this room. Shi Jinlan was holding a book Chi Qian had left open.
Her eyes were lowered, moving unhurriedly along with the lines of text, quiet and composed, the very picture of concentration.
Time itself seemed to be stretched, slowed down.
A sea breeze blew in, and the trees in the courtyard brushed against the window with a rustling sound, yet it did not disturb this scene in the slightest.
Such proper beauty made Chi Qian even forget her own messy desk.
She must have been like this when she was in school, too, she thought.
Focused and undisturbed by the outside world.
There must have been quite a few people who had a secret crush on her.
Just as Chi Qian was standing at the door, lost in her secret thoughts, she suddenly heard her own useless heart start to beat erratically again.
Without the threat of a mission hanging over her, the her of this time was truly susceptible to being moved.
Shi Jinlan had heard the noise at the door, but she knew who it was, so her movements were less guarded.
She unhurriedly put down the book and turned the wheelchair around. “Sorry for touching your book.”
“It’s okay,” Chi Qian said, bringing the medicine over to Shi Jinlan.
This her seemed to notice many more details. Seeing that the page the book was open to was different from where she had left it, she took the initiative to say, “You’ve read quite a bit. Can you understand it all? You can ask me if there’s anything you don’t get.”
“It’s fine,” Shi Jinlan replied faintly, not forgetting her main task just because she was chatting with Chi Qian.
Her slender fingers took the medicine bowl and brought it to her lips.
The bitter taste lingered in the air, making one instinctively frown, yet Shi Jinlan’s expression remained unchanged. She drank the entire bowl without a trace of emotion.
In the few short days they had spent together, she and Chi Qian seemed to have formed a kind of tacit understanding.
After putting the bowl down, she picked up the dried plum Chi Qian had prepared for her and took a small bite.
The white frost melted on Shi Jinlan’s tongue, and the cool sweetness was very much to her liking.
She hadn’t forgotten what Chi Qian had said earlier. Now that she had finished what was in her mouth, she opened the book to the page Chi Qian had been reading and said, “I think there’s a mistake in this section.”
“This pulse condition, although it looks very similar to the case study above it, that one is a chronic consumptive disease, while this is merely due to poor circulation of qi and blood. The needle shouldn’t be applied at this acupoint.”
Shi Jinlan explained briefly, then summarized for Chi Qian, “This is actually a case of the same illness with a different root cause.”
Listening to Shi Jinlan’s analysis, Chi Qian couldn’t help but lean closer.
As Shi Jinlan spoke, she habitually made a note on the pulse case and the example diagram. Looking at it, Chi Qian had a sudden realization.
This was a trap her grandfather had set for her. She had almost—no, she had already walked right into it.
Chi Qingyan loved setting traps like this for her, forcing her to be vigilant at all times. After all, the knowledge in books was just case studies; patients in real life were living, breathing lives.
Chi Qian was still shaken by her misjudgment when Shi Jinlan pointed out, “You have several errors, and they’re all quite elementary.”
Chi Qian sometimes wondered just how Shi Jinlan’s brain was wired.
It was one thing to be so proficient in the business world, but she had also conquered Chi Qian’s own area of expertise, and later on, she even learned to code.
Was this the terrifying power of a top-tier boss?
Thinking about the gap between herself and Shi Jinlan, Chi Qian felt a little distressed. “I think so too. Grandfather always says I’m crude and careless. Miss Shen is so meticulous. Otherwise, I’d be getting the ruler again.”
As she said this, something occurred to her.
She looked at Shi Jinlan, who had just been carefully analyzing the case with her, and her eyes lit up. “Miss Shen, could you please be kind and, for the sake of the dried plums I prepared for you, help me out?”
With Chi Qian’s first sentence as a precondition, it was hard for Shi Jinlan not to guess what Chi Qian was asking of her.
But she still had to ask, “What is it?”
“Could you please explain all the mistakes you saw earlier?” Chi Qian looked at Shi Jinlan with a pleading, imploring gaze. She really didn’t want to get the ruler again.
But the current Shi Jinlan was not the one Chi Qian was familiar with. She had no emotional foundation with her, and her expression upon hearing this was very calm. Her deep, dark eyes even held a coldness that suggested she had no intention of paying it any mind.
Chi Qian sensed Shi Jinlan’s distance and naturally took a step back. “It’s fine if Miss Shen just points them out to me. I can figure them out myself.”
Sunlight filled the room, brushing a layer of gold across the woman’s face.
Shi Jinlan looked at Chi Qian’s pitiful expression, paused for a moment, and finally relented. “Sit over here.”
“Thank you, Miss Shen!” Chi Qian was overjoyed, eagerly trotting over with her chair to sit beside her.
Dust motes, usually invisible to the naked eye, rose and floated in the sunlight, coming from different directions and slowly intertwining.
Chi Qian’s gaze followed Shi Jinlan’s finger, extending slowly upward before coming to an abrupt halt at her wrist. The breeze stirred by the book’s pages carried a faint, clean, and familiar floral scent.
This her had little sense of personal space, or rather, she subconsciously wanted to be close to Shi Jinlan, so she didn’t deliberately maintain much distance when they sat together.
Their shadows were painted on the wall by the sun. Their nearly identical heights placed their two shoulders on the same level, and the hazy light and shadows blurred the lines between them, making them seem as if they were pressed together.
As it turned out, Shi Jinlan truly was extraordinarily gifted.
She unhurriedly flipped to a page she had marked, and Chi Qian saw it was a section she had been unsure about.
Shi Jinlan was a woman of few words, and her explanations were a masterclass in being well-balanced in detail.
Whether it was the tacit understanding between them or that she had figured out Chi Qian’s temperament in just a few short days, sometimes all she had to do was say one sentence, and Chi Qian would understand.
Listening to Shi Jinlan’s explanation, Chi Qian suddenly felt a little regretful that they never had times like this when they were together.
This student, who had been so focused at the beginning, found her thoughts drifting as she listened.
Chi Qian’s gaze, which had been on the book, gradually shifted to Shi Jinlan’s face.
That cool voice was tinged with a gentleness that made one feel this person was…
Her long lashes drooped slightly, thick and dense like fans spreading out in Chi Qian’s vision. Their curled arcs held the sunlight, hooking Chi Qian’s heart with every flutter.
Whether it was the her of now or the her of then, both let out a sigh from the bottom of their hearts in unison: Ah Lan / Miss Shen is so beautiful.
“Am I that beautiful?”
A cool voice, a question echoing her sigh, sounded by Chi Qian’s ear.
Chi Qian, propping up her chin with one hand, was too entranced to register it, and subconsciously agreed, “Of course you are.”
“Ha.”
A sharp rush of air flowed past, and a laugh suddenly grazed Chi Qian’s ear.
Chi Qian’s wandering expression froze, and her vision refocused.
She saw that Shi Jinlan was mirroring her posture, propping up her own chin with one hand. Her eyes were slightly curved, watching her with a smile that was rich and flirtatious. Her gentle features were like those of a bewitching enchantress.
“No wonder Miss Chi was staring at me so intently just now, so much so that you couldn’t even answer where you went wrong.”
The author has something to say:
Qianqian: Why is my wife still so black-bellied qaq
Lanlan: Because I love you in every lifetime~
Qianqian-brand Kettle: Wuhu! Wuhu!
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I suddenly realized yesterday that I forgot to wish everyone a happy holiday in the comments, so I’m making up for it today. Red envelopes for comments, will send them out tomorrow ovo
Footnotes
- Original term: 寒蝉 (hánchán). Cicadas heard in late summer or early autumn, their cries are often associated with the changing of seasons, melancholy, and the passage of time.
- A 戒尺 (jièchǐ) is a flat, heavy ruler, traditionally used by teachers or parents for corporal punishment, typically by striking a student’s palms.
- The original phrase, 热脸贴冷屁股 (rèliǎn tiē lěng pìgu), is a vivid idiom for trying to be friendly to someone who is cold and unresponsive, only to be snubbed for your efforts.
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