So I Had No Choice But to Stop Being the White Moonlight – Chapter 106

I’m Not Going to Be the White Moonlight

The Beginning of the Beginning

“Ah Qian, this bracelet is the only thing your mother left you.”

The sunlight was languid. The autumn cicadas drew out their cries, their mournful, plaintive sounds like a poem of farewell.

            

As it turned out, tumbling down a hillside didn’t result in immediate death.

On the contrary, because of the dense vegetation, Shi Jinlan was snagged by branches the entire way down. Heaven and earth churned in her vision, and she felt as if every bone in her body was aching, except for her legs.

Shi Jinlan felt rocks and roots strike her waist several times, and one impact was hard enough to slam into her leg.

            

Her shallow will to survive gave her no hope of making it out alive. She even found herself thinking that it would be better if something just hit her head and ended her life right here.

That would be fine, too.

At least before she died, she had seen that there was someone in this world who truly cared about her.

            

Shi Jinlan’s thoughts were thrown into turmoil as the world spun around her. A trace of reluctance surfaced in her muddled mind.

If only I could have spent a little more time with that person, she thought.

She was just that insatiable. Greed was not a good thing.

            

Shi Jinlan remembered how a flicker of greed—the desire to devour her opponents completely—had led her straight into Shi Cheng’s trap. She instantly let go of the desire that had just risen in her heart.

Let it be.

Shi Jinlan was ready to bid farewell to this world, but just then, her descent began to slow.

            

A patch of lush green vegetation caught her body. Its fine, downy claws gripped her skin, and a sharp, tearing pain brought her to a halt.

Coming to a stop did nothing to help her recover. Shi Jinlan lay on her side in the grass, a warm stream seeming to trickle down from her temple.

The smell of rust had no place in a grassy field, yet it wafted realistically to her nose. The warm flow made her eyelids feel so heavy.

            

Don’t sleep.

Don’t sleep.

The will to survive is a basic human instinct. It seemed Shi Jinlan didn’t want to die quite so badly after all.

            

She struggled, forcing herself not to close her eyes. Just then, a figure rushed into her field of vision.

The sunlight was as gentle as moonlight, softening the person’s silhouette until she seemed as if she shouldn’t exist in this world.

But she did exist. Shi Jinlan had seen this same ethereal figure on the beach where she had washed ashore.

            

“Miss Shi!”

Chi Qian ran down the slope with reckless abandon.

Inertia pulled at her steps, and she couldn’t stop even when she reached the bottom of the hill.

            

The dense Japanese hop​¹ bit at her legs, leaving bloody scratches on her hands and shins.

But Chi Qian didn’t care.

She was just that reckless, reaching out with the hand that had just failed to grab Shi Jinlan, single-mindedly wanting to grasp her again.

            

The vines cut her skin, but she trampled them underfoot, pressing forward relentlessly.

Chi Qian cried out Shi Jinlan’s name. Pain spread through her entire body, a pain even worse than when she had shielded Shi Jinlan as they rolled down the hill before.

In this moment, Chi Qian had completely lost control of this body.

            

She watched as her past self charged down without a second thought, and she truly felt that the version of herself who had struck the bell of love for Shi Jinlan with one look​² loved Shi Jinlan more than the version of herself who was merely carrying out a mission.

She felt ashamed of her own form.

She also finally understood why, back then, she had desperately tried to hold Shi Jinlan’s hand even in her dreams.

            

Because once, she had truly held Shi Jinlan’s hand.

And then lost her by the arm.​³

It also dawned on her why Thirteen had said their fall down the slope was the result of a System calculation.

            

It wasn’t because it was some meticulously calculated, optimal way to escape Shi Jinlan’s pursuers.

It was simply what had happened to them—an experience of pain piercing the heart and lungs.

A large patch of crimson stained the verdant leaves, exceptionally glaring under the sun.

            

Chi Qian had never seen Shi Jinlan look so pale, so fragile, like a white flower drifting down from a treetop. It made one worry she might die at any moment.

“Shi Jinlan, wake up.” Chi Qian hastily gathered Shi Jinlan into her arms, calling out the name that felt awkward on her tongue at the time, but was more likely to rouse her.

And upon hearing someone call her name, Shi Jinlan struggled to force her eyes open.

            

This voice wasn’t the respectful, calm, or even critical tone she was used to hearing day in and day out. It was anxious. Vaguely, Shi Jinlan remembered her mother sounding just as anxious when she had a fever as a child. It was the tone of someone who genuinely held you in their heart.

Why go to such lengths?

They were just duckweed meeting on water.​⁴ Could it be that “striking the bell of love with one look” really existed in this world?

            

Shi Jinlan didn’t believe it, but Chi Qian’s furrowed brow came into sharp focus.

She watched in silence, her slow breaths laced with unwillingness. She raised a hand, wanting to smooth the worry from Chi Qian’s brow.

It’s not worth it.

            

It wasn’t worth investing emotion in someone as worthless as her.

The instant her long fingers touched Chi Qian’s temple, a bleak wind rustled through the mountain forest.

She felt as if the simple movement had taken all her strength. Her faintly trembling fingers were like a hand holding a kite string, tugging at her heart, making it tremble with each beat.

            

But this really wasn’t a good place for romance. Before Chi Qian could even assess Shi Jinlan’s condition, a dark shadow fell over her shoulder.

“Miss, please hand Miss Shi Jinlan over to me. She’s so seriously injured; it would be better for us to take her back for treatment.” The man who had been chasing them had arrived. He reached out, intending to take Shi Jinlan’s life.

But Chi Qian refused.

            

She just held Shi Jinlan, holding her tight.

She stared at the man with a ferocious gaze, like a dog, like a wolf, like a cornered beast.

Just as Chi Qian was preparing to fight the man, a voice cut through the atmosphere of swords drawn and crossbows bent.​⁵

            

“Assistant Manager Wang!”

Chi Qian looked in the direction of the man’s voice and saw a familiar figure in the dense woods.

This familiarity was finally not the kind that put her on edge, but the kind that brought genuine relief.

            

Shi Jinlan’s people were here!

Ah Ning emerged from the distance, walking with a brisk, efficient stride!

The man was clearly not expecting to run into Ah Ning here. He froze for a moment, then forced a non-aggressive smile. “Miss Ning, you’re certainly quick.”

            

He absolved himself of all responsibility, gesturing toward Shi Jinlan in Chi Qian’s arms with a friendly expression. “I just saw that Miss Shi was injured and wanted to help, that’s all.”

But Ah Ning clearly wasn’t falling for his act. She gave a cold laugh. “I don’t think our Miss needs your help.”

The man didn’t back down an inch. “Whether she does or not… that’s hard to say.”

            

“Is that so?” Ah Ning knew Shi Cheng’s people wouldn’t let Shi Jinlan go so easily. With a wave of her hand, more people emerged from behind her, their well-built muscles hidden beneath tailored suits.

Hard to say or not, she was going to settle it.

Ah Ning closed in on the man with a cold stare, stuffing a card into his pocket. “Go back and tell Shi Cheng that the old madam said the Young Miss will be under her protection from now on. Anyone who dares to touch her will be making an enemy of the Yu Family.”

            

The Yu Family was Shi Jinlan’s mother’s family, and the “old madam” Ah Ning spoke of was Shi Jinlan’s maternal grandmother.

She was a figure who, while unable to take on the entire Shinian Group, could certainly make things difficult for Shi Cheng.

With this ultimatum laid bare before him, there was nothing the man could do.

            

He hadn’t brought enough men, and he couldn’t eliminate Shi Jinlan in one go. He had no choice but to grit his teeth, raise a hand to signal the two men he’d brought with him, and leave.

Another rustle of footsteps disturbed the grass, and a cool breeze blew over from a gurgling river in the distance.

Half the sweltering tension was swept away in an instant, as if the earlier hostility had never existed.

            

Ah Ning watched the man leave and gestured for her subordinates to follow, then hurried over to Shi Jinlan.

She was heartbroken to see Shi Jinlan’s condition and quickly said to Chi Qian, “Thank you for your help, miss. Please, let me take our Miss.”

Chi Qian knew, of course, that Ah Ning was a good person, but the Chi Qian of the past did not.

            

Her eyes were still filled with wary hostility. She held Shi Jinlan circled in her arms, and even though she sensed no ill will from Ah Ning, she held on tightly, not letting go for a second.

“Miss, I’m the Young Miss’s assistant. I’ve been by her side for many years.” Ah Ning knew Chi Qian didn’t trust her and explained in a soft, slow voice.

“Can you prove it?” Chi Qian asked coldly.

            

Ah Ning was quick. Hearing this, she pulled her ID card and her phone from her pocket. “Here are my credentials, and here’s the message the Young Miss just sent me.”

Seeing these, Chi Qian’s wary gaze finally softened a fraction.

She couldn’t tell if the ID was real or fake, but she recognized her own phone number, and the tone of the text message matched Shi Jinlan’s habits.

            

It seemed this person was really here to help her.

All at once, Chi Qian seemed to let down all her defenses, slightly loosening her grip on Shi Jinlan.

But then, just as Ah Ning moved to take Shi Jinlan, she pulled her hands back again. “I’ll carry her.”

            

“Wherever you’re going, I’m going too.”

Chi Qian was resolute, putting Ah Ning in a difficult position.

She glanced back, and in the distance, someone else came walking over, arriving late.

            

“Ah Qian, Miss Ning is here to help us. You can rest assured.”

A breeze rose, gently brushing against Chi Qian’s cheek.

She abruptly lifted her head to look into the distance and saw another familiar figure appear before her.

            

Yuan Ming.

Chi Qian wasn’t particularly surprised by the appearance of that man, or even Ah Ning.

But Yuan Ming was different.

            

Chi Qian still remembered their last encounter, when Yuan Ming had turned her own severed arm into a blade and tried to kill Shi Jinlan.

But while she now held a deep-seated wariness toward Yuan Ming, her past self was still close with her.

The moment she heard Yuan Ming’s voice, her eyes lit up. “Ah Yuan! What are you doing here!”

            

In that instant, memories of her time with Yuan Ming flooded into Chi Qian’s mind like a tidal wave.

How they met, how they became friends.

The sound of children’s laughter echoed through their childhood, the incessant chirping of cicadas and the crashing of waves. They ran along the coastline, freer than anyone.

            

As Chi Qian recalled this, ripples spread through the bottom of her heart.

She and Yuan Ming really had been the best of friends. They grew up together, went to the same middle school, high school, and even university. It wouldn’t be an exaggeration to call them green plums and bamboo horse.​⁶

But in the end, one’s love was unrequited.

            

It was just…

As Chi Qian remembered, she felt that the story Yuan Ming had told her about how they met seemed a little different now.

Elementary school…

            

Hadn’t they known each other since they were very, very young?

“I ran into Miss Ning on the boat back and showed her the way.” Yuan Ming didn’t notice Chi Qian’s altered vigilance. She walked over and naturally took Chi Qian’s arm. “How did you get hurt again? Teacher will be heartbroken if he sees this.”

“It’s nothing, just minor scratches. I’ll wear long sleeves for a couple of days, and they’ll be gone soon.” Chi Qian chuckled, thinking nothing of it.

            

“You’re always like this.” Yuan Ming’s brow furrowed. She looked at Chi Qian’s nonchalant expression, shook her head helplessly, and then prompted her, “Let’s go. Miss Ning is coming back to Teacher’s house with us. While Teacher is treating Miss Shi, I’ll secretly put some medicine on for you.”

“Okay,” Chi Qian nodded, reluctantly agreeing.

This person always spoke with such a gentle air, making you want to trust her for no reason at all.

            

It was only with Yuan Ming’s guarantee that Chi Qian felt at ease enough to hand Shi Jinlan over to Ah Ning.

Even so, Chi Qian’s heart was still full of doubt.

The sun shone through the still-dense treetops, casting overlapping, mottled shadows on Yuan Ming’s face, obscuring her features.

            

When did she become the Main System?

Was she like the other characters taken over by Mission-Takers—was her body seized by the Main System?

Or…

            

Has she always been the Main System?

The wind passed through the interwoven leaves of the mountain, bringing a layer of coolness. The more Chi Qian thought, the colder her heart grew.

But while her present self was lost in internal speculation, her past self was walking behind with Yuan Ming, chatting happily and naturally.

            

In truth, this was how close they were supposed to be.

As Chi Qian continued to stare at Yuan Ming, her mouth moved on its own. “Ah Yuan, how many days are you back for this time?”

“I’ll have to stay for ten days to half a month,” Yuan Ming replied. “Teacher showed me Miss Shi’s case file. I’m quite interested, and I’d like to treat her with him.”

            

Chi Qian was so familiar with Yuan Ming that her eyes lit up at her words. “Does that mean you already have some ideas?”

“A few,” Yuan Ming nodded, but her expression wasn’t relaxed. “But treating Miss Shi will require an immense amount of energy, and that’s secondary. The main issue is that it requires a lot of rare and expensive medicinal herbs. They’re hard to find and far too costly.”

As she said this, Yuan Ming sighed softly. “We might not be able to save her leg. Even if it heals, there could be lasting complications.”

            

“How could this happen?” Hearing this, Chi Qian’s expression immediately fell.

Her attention was fixed on the last part of what Yuan Ming had said. Her gaze drifted to the bracelet on her wrist.

The silvery gleam flashed under the sunlight, and the next moment, she took it off. “Here, this is for you.”

            

Chi Qian had no idea how wealthy Shi Jinlan was, but she had already made up her mind to save her.

She had to make Shi Jinlan well again. She was willing to do it at any cost. Her gaze was filled with earnest pleading. “Ah Yuan, I’ll find a way to raise the money. Please help me buy the medicine Miss Shi needs, okay?”

The silver light was like a blade, slashing across Yuan Ming’s vision.

            

She stared at the bracelet Chi Qian had just shoved into her hand. A flicker of disbelief crossed her eyes, then it seemed to be replaced by understanding. Her brow knitted together, her expression both gentle and sharp. “Ah Qian, this bracelet is the only thing your mother left you.”

“Don’t you know? This bracelet is meant to protect you and keep you safe your whole life.”

The autumn cicadas drew out their cries, their sharp calls a protest against their short lives.

            

Listening to Yuan Ming’s words, Chi Qian saw a flash of pain in her eyes.

And also…

Why did she say this bracelet was to keep her safe?

            

How did she know this bracelet would keep her safe?

---

---