So I Had No Choice But to Stop Being the White Moonlight – Chapter 117
by Little PandaI’m Not Going to Be the White Moonlight
That’s Because the Teacher Taught Well.
Chi Qian was swept back into this world by the sea, wearing nothing but a nightgown.
The soft cotton dress was soaked through with seawater. The damp chill had seeped into the skin of her back for so long that her nerves had grown sensitive, and the slightest touch of warmth was enough to make them tremble.
The mirror seemed to reflect another world, the moonlight within it tracing the room’s features with even greater clarity than what Chi Qian could see with her own eyes.
Shi Jinlan lowered her head, her soft hair brushing past Chi Qian’s shoulder. She hid behind Chi Qian, obscuring the profile that should have also been reflected in the mirror.
Her surging breath burned against the back of her neck, making her sluggish blood instantly begin to boil.
Shi Jinlan’s kisses traced a path precisely down her spine, wandering and roaming. Her thin lips carried the most direct human warmth, and because they were unseen, the sensation felt exceptionally distinct, forcibly magnified.
The mirror gathered the room’s few sources of light, outlining the figures standing at the center of the frame.
But how could she dare to look at such a thing? Chi Qian subconsciously avoided her own reflection, yet it was inevitable that her gaze would meet her own in her peripheral vision.
Her chin was slightly raised, her tense expression revealing an irrepressible emotion.
She didn’t know when the thin strap had slipped from her shoulder, exposing the curve of it to the air. As their kisses lingered, a faint red mark was left behind.
It was a nightgown, so there wasn’t much else underneath.
The light dress slid down Chi Qian’s body and pooled on the floor. Her slender shoulders framed two delicate collarbones, and the body held in Shi Jinlan’s palms trembled faintly with every uneasy breath she took.
“Ah, Lan…” The scene was a little embarrassing. Chi Qian reached a hand back, searching for Shi Jinlan’s, wanting to go somewhere else with her.
Anywhere but in front of the mirror.
But Shi Jinlan paid her no mind, as if she hadn’t heard Chi Qian’s call at all.
The seawater clung to her neck. Shi Jinlan followed its path downward, smelling the faint scent of papaya shower gel and the dampness of lavender.
Suddenly, Shi Jinlan frowned.
A band, not too wide and not too narrow, stretched across Chi Qian’s back, blocking Shi Jinlan’s downward path.
“You didn’t have this habit before,” Shi Jinlan murmured against Chi Qian’s back, her lips hovering, her tone holding a hint of playful complaint.
“Because I wasn’t ready for bed yet…” Chi Qian’s reply was unsteady, punctuated by a sharp, quick breath.
After asking, Shi Jinlan paid no mind to the fact that Chi Qian, the respondent, also needed time to answer. Her blocked kisses simply turned back upward.
Her warm breath exhaled slowly, suddenly enveloping Chi Qian’s thin back. A single tooth gently bit down on a slightly protruding vertebra, a warm friction against her shoulder blade.
Chi Qian felt like a fallen angel, wings sprouting from her empty back in that instant.
Only, this wasn’t a good thing. Her trembling shoulder blades were unbearably fragile. Shi Jinlan’s kisses roamed over them again and again, like a devout believer, or perhaps a greedy merchant.
One of her hands rested on Chi Qian’s waist as she kissed this precious treasure she had finally found again.
She wouldn’t let a single inch of skin go unexplored.
Wrapped in such emotion, Chi Qian felt as if she were about to be devoured by Shi Jinlan.
But then she thought, how did Shi Jinlan know that she didn’t miss her just as much as Shi Jinlan missed her?
A thought stirred in Chi Qian’s heart. No longer under Shi Jinlan’s control, she spun around and grasped the hand she had wanted to hold a thousand times over.
The scent of the sea-soaked air pressed in. The neck that had been leaning against Chi Qian’s back was now cupped in a single hand.
I’m really not a qualified pet, Chi Qian thought. Even with a collar on, I’ve brazenly kissed my master.
Shi Jinlan hadn’t expected Chi Qian to lose her patience so quickly. A muffled grunt escaped her captured lips.
Then, damp softness swept past the tips of her teeth, nibbling gently, plucking at her sensitive and fragile nerves.
Chi Qian’s fingers found Shi Jinlan’s with practiced ease, tracing up along the distinct lines of her knuckles.
Her hand clasped Shi Jinlan’s wrist. The deep kiss turned shallow as she brought up the topic from the beach again. “How did you get so thin? Wasn’t Thirteen with you the whole time? Didn’t it nag you about your health monitoring system?”
The questions came one after another. Shi Jinlan just smiled, unconcerned.
Her eyes, so close, gazed at Chi Qian as if she were still kissing her. “Do you think I would listen to it?”
“Then you’ll listen to me,” Chi Qian said, leaning in even closer, shrinking the distance between them until there was none left.
Their kiss had stopped, but the heat it had spread still lingered in their breaths.
Shi Jinlan couldn’t stand the pressure of Chi Qian’s breath. Her lashes lowered, a lustful aura filling their thick tips. On her next exhale, she reached up and hooked a finger through Chi Qian’s collar.
“Ah Qian, don’t get it wrong,” Shi Jinlan said slowly, her voice by Chi Qian’s ear. Her finger slipped through the metal ring to press against Chi Qian’s throat, right over the pulse that was beating wildly in her neck.
In an instant, Shi Jinlan was the one in control.
Though they were of similar build, Shi Jinlan’s gaze held a sense of looking down from above. She watched Chi Qian, watched as a sly smile appeared in her own reflection in Chi Qian’s eyes.
Shi Jinlan seemed to sense something, but it was too late.
Suddenly, she felt her feet leave the ground. The hand that had been resting on her waist had made her lower her guard, and just like that, Chi Qian swept her up into a princess carry.
“Get what wrong?” Chi Qian tilted her head, feigning ignorance.
Untamable was Chi Qian’s true color.
Wearing the collar Shi Jinlan had put on her with her own hands, she was going to test whether she had gotten it wrong after all.
The night wind blew into the open window, making the hem of her dress sway in the cool air.
Chi Qian lifted Shi Jinlan with ease. She was so light. The slight weight in her arms felt like the lightest blooming begonia.
Chi Qian’s gaze was fixed on Shi Jinlan, her ardor mixed with a pang of heartache.
The bit of weight she had worked so hard to put on Shi Jinlan was gone, just like that. She placed her on the bed, and the soft mattress seemed to swallow her whole. From the side, she was almost invisible.
Chi Qian didn’t dare to imagine how much thinner she would have become if she had returned a few days later.
“You’re too thin,” Chi Qian said softly, looking down at Shi Jinlan.
“I’m fine,” Shi Jinlan replied.
The thin dress she wore seemed to bloom around her. As she spoke, she raised a hand and draped it over the back of Chi Qian’s neck.
The warm, clean scent was filled with the fragrance of flowers, as if they were silent in a garden, free for the picking.
“I’ll slowly fatten you up,” Chi Qian murmured this to Shi Jinlan, a plan already forming in her mind. She then leaned down.
The wind couldn’t disperse the heat that was steadily building in the room. It was as if autumn had been dragged back into the height of summer.
The muggy air was like a low-hanging cloud, pressing down on the room, under the hem of Shi Jinlan’s dress, until a knee parted the fabric and pressed inside.
Even though this wasn’t their first time kissing so intimately, Shi Jinlan still couldn’t withstand Chi Qian’s attentions.
A layer of sweat coated the inside of her thigh. Though she hadn’t been touched in the slightest, Shi Jinlan was already trembling.
But Chi Qian made no further move.
Or rather, her knee didn’t.
The hand that had been on Shi Jinlan’s waist found its way back, and under the thin fabric, a green snake lay dormant.
The zipper was right there at Shi Jinlan’s side, but Chi Qian deliberately ignored it, instead tracing a path under the loose fabric over the flat plane of her stomach until she reached the snow-white peaks bathed in moonlight.
Shi Jinlan had just anticipated—or rather, she had forgotten—that Chi Qian had more than one “weapon” in her arsenal.
The green snake opened its mouth of five teeth and took a bite of a fruit. Shi Jinlan’s hands suddenly clenched on Chi Qian’s shoulders.
Her breathing grew hotter.
The thick clouds gathering in the room were brewing a summer rain, greedily absorbing the moisture in the air, making the heat more and more oppressive.
Sensing Shi Jinlan’s tension, Chi Qian leaned in and gently kissed her lips twice.
Then she stopped again, only asking, “Where did we go for our honeymoon?”
It sounded like idle chatter, but the timing was hardly appropriate.
Shi Jinlan glanced at Chi Qian with a faint look in her eyes. Her thoughts were scattered, but she still kissed her back and said, “We went to Western and Northern Europe.”
Her hands weren’t held by Chi Qian, so her fingers became a map of their journey.
The moonlight shone through her long fingers, slender and pale like spring onions, as if they could shine through water. They traced a path from Chi Qian’s shoulder to her back, sliding over her body. “First Iceland, then Norway.”
“I introduced you to my friends in France. We ate at the best restaurant in Ireland, danced under the moon at a local folk festival in Belgium, and finally went to the Netherlands to see the windmills and tulips.”
The night suited Shi Jinlan’s voice perfectly, as if a beautiful, unhurried story was slowly unfolding.
Her voice was a whisper against Chi Qian’s ear, and her fingers lingered on Chi Qian’s spine, her words pulling Chi Qian into a phantom fantasy.
Chi Qian loved Shi Jinlan’s simple descriptions, and her breathing gradually grew deep and slow.
The fabric between them finally became a nuisance. Chi Qian wanted to press against Shi Jinlan without any barriers. With a hook of her finger, she tossed the dress aside.
“Are the tulips in the Netherlands pretty?”
Shi Jinlan felt a momentary coolness, but it was immediately replaced by a greater heat.
Chi Qian’s voice was right at her neck. She enjoyed it immensely, her fingers lingering on the spot she had just described as “the Netherlands.” “We went at the wrong time. The windmills were prettier.”
“Then was my dancing pretty?” Chi Qian asked, kissing Shi Jinlan’s neck.
Taking a deep breath, Chi Qian waited for the lump in Shi Jinlan’s throat to bob before Shi Jinlan finally replied, “Not pretty.”
Fantasy was more alluring than reality, Shi Jinlan thought, then added, “You stepped on my feet several times, but you got better and better as you danced.”
“That’s because the teacher taught well,” Chi Qian said, her gaze turning to the teacher who had taught her to dance.
“I should thank Teacher.”
Her voice was fawning, cloyingly sweet as if dipped in nectar from some flower.
But what flower’s nectar could she have possibly dipped into?
Chi Qian spoke languidly, her fingers tracing down Shi Jinlan’s waist.
It had been a long time. Shi Jinlan’s body tensed slightly.
But then, just as quickly, she relaxed into a lazy stretch.
She made no effort to hide her anticipation.
After all, she had waited for this person for a very, very long time.
But while Shi Jinlan was growing impatient, Chi Qian was still taking her time.
As if she had lost all ability to restrain herself, Shi Jinlan brushed a leg lightly against her, her expression petulant, a faint protest. “Ah Qian.”
“Did you miss me?” Chi Qian asked deliberately. The metal ring on her collar swayed, brazenly displaying the four words “subverting the natural order1.”
“I did,” Shi Jinlan answered, her voice unsteady.
But Chi Qian deliberately slowed down, pressing on. “What did you miss about me?”
The time before a night rain falls is the most unbearable.
The oppressive heat makes one feel like a waterlogged piece of wood. A scorching fire licks along the fine-grained surface, but it just won’t catch.
It seems determined to bake all the moisture out, refusing to stop until cracks appear in the wood.
Shi Jinlan understood Chi Qian’s meaning now.
Just for that one comment at the very beginning, she was going to torment her.
The metallic sheen of the collar caught a sliver of moonlight, flashing clearly in Shi Jinlan’s vision.
In her line of sight was an untamable pet.
But she herself was hardly a qualified master.
After all, her original intention when she put the collar on Chi Qian was simply to make it impossible for her to leave again.
Now, her goal was achieved.
There was no need to mark the positions in their relationship so clearly.
“I missed you…”
Shi Jinlan thought for a moment, then leaned close to Chi Qian’s ear.
But she was still too shy to say such words out loud. Her teeth pressed down on her lips, which were already plump from being kissed.
“Missed what about me?” Chi Qian gently brushed her lips against Shi Jinlan’s, coaxing her to say the rest of the sentence.
Her heart was being roasted over a fire.
Shi Jinlan felt like she could hear the sound of her own blood burning. Her heart was racing, and her long legs brushed almost imperceptibly against Chi Qian’s arm.
Her eyes, hazy with a layer of warmth, held a trace of embarrassment. In the end, she could only manage a substitute word. “…Kissing me.”
“Silly goose2,” Chi Qian chuckled at the word.
She found Shi Jinlan unbelievably cute at that moment. She didn’t care whether she had said the word or not—in fact, she didn’t want her to say it. She leaned down and kissed her.
Her fingers kissed her lips as well.
The night wind stirred by the window, and a pure white color flooded Shi Jinlan’s vision.
Her breath caught. In an instant, she felt herself being pushed by Chi Qian into the water.
A river, the sea.
The most humid patch of earth in the Amazon jungle.
The rain that had been building in the room finally began to fall. Waves crashed against the shore, churning up a layer of white foam.
Shi Jinlan was dammed up by Chi Qian. The sound of water filled her ears. She wanted to make a sound, but the kiss trapped it in her throat.
Muffled whimpers, like the cries of a small animal.
Shi Jinlan’s scratching made Chi Qian’s heart itch, making her want to touch her soul even more deeply.
Again and again, a difficult swallow moved down Shi Jinlan’s throat.
She suddenly felt her hands had nothing to hold onto, and she tensed, wanting to grab something.
And then Chi Qian offered her own hand.
Their fingers intertwined. Chi Qian felt Shi Jinlan’s grip on her fingers grow tighter and tighter.
Tighter and tighter.
From a throat held tight between her teeth, Shi Jinlan’s neck arched in an elegant curve.
Her hand, resting in Chi Qian’s palm, was long and slender, like a flower scattered by the rain.
A cool breeze drifted in, carrying away the room’s dampness.
Chi Qian wrapped an arm around Shi Jinlan’s waist and slowly, methodically, smoothed the sticky strands of long hair from her neck. She chuckled softly by her ear, saying nothing, yet seeming to say everything.
The night was long, after all.
Shi Jinlan would have plenty of time to figure it out.
The time apart was filled by the night’s tenderness. A late-coming summer storm filled the cluttered bedroom.
The bedsheets were carelessly piled on the floor, impossible to tell which was which, the damp spots hidden in the dim corners.
In the end, Shi Jinlan didn’t know how late their tussle had lasted. She only knew she had fallen asleep curled in Chi Qian’s arms.
It was a rare, wonderful dream. For the first time in her life, she had slept at home with Chi Qian until late into the morning3.
Bright sunlight streamed through the window. Shi Jinlan sat up, her eyes still heavy with sleep.
She gazed at Chi Qian’s sleeping face, her eyes slowly moving over the distinct red mark on her shoulder. Finally, she understood on a much deeper level what it meant that beauty leads one astray4.
The weather was lovely all day. It seemed a rain had fallen here last night as well. The sky was a washed-out blue, and the sun, shining through a thin layer of clouds, was bright and strong.
Because they were now returning home after their honeymoon, they didn’t do as they had yesterday, where Shi Jinlan would draw a circle and Chi Qian would arrive with her at their destination. Instead, they took a private yacht to the dock first.
This wasn’t the peak tourist season. When Chi Qian and Shi Jinlan disembarked, the bodyguards behind them carrying large and small bags were exceptionally eye-catching.
But Chi Qian didn’t care about that.
The accumulated feelings from two lifetimes made her miss Chi Qingyan terribly. The moment she reached the gate, she started calling out, “Grandfather! Grandfather!”
She didn’t see him in the courtyard, so she continued to shout, “Grandfather, Grandfather, Grandfather!”
“Are you one of the Calabash Brothers5?”
Before she could finish her string of “Grandfathers,” Chi Qingyan emerged from the clinic with a stern expression.
He was very displeased with Chi Qian’s lack of composure. “I heard you from a mile away,” he scolded. “The commotion you’re making is almost as big as when the Town Mayor and his wife came to visit.”
“Are you angry?” Chi Qian saw his expression and sidled up to him, trying to act cute.
But how could Chi Qingyan ever be truly angry with Chi Qian? Seeing that she looked a bit like her old self, with that sun-kissed, light wheat complexion, his expression softened. “You’ve been out for so many days. Did you have a good time?”
“I didn’t forget about you, Grandfather. Ah Lan and I bought you these. Good stuff,” Chi Qian said, showing Chi Qingyan the bags the bodyguards were holding. She took his arm and led him into the main hall to unwrap the presents.
“Look, foreign mountain ginseng!” Chi Qian introduced enthusiastically. “And this is Western liquor. You can use it to infuse the ginseng.”
“You little girl, do you have any idea what an extravagant waste of fine things this is?” Chi Qingyan looked with heartache at the liquor Chi Qian had brought over, rescuing it from the hands of a girl who knew nothing about it.
Chi Qingyan held the bottle up to the light for a long time before putting it away. He then said to Chi Qian and Shi Jinlan, “Perfect timing. I have something for you two as well. Wait for me.”
It was rare to hear that Chi Qingyan had something for Shi Jinlan too. Chi Qian was puzzled but still nodded obediently.
As Chi Qingyan walked out, he saw Shi Jinlan approach Chi Qian and leisurely tidy her hair.
He was already seventy, long past the age of knowing the will of Heaven6. His eyes lingered on the two of them for a long while before he looked away.
Chi Qingyan had received news of Chi Qian’s return this morning. A pot of medicine sat silently on the stove in the small kitchen.
The crackle of burning firewood could be heard occasionally, the scattered sounds like flickering fragments of a person’s memory.
Chi Qingyan thought that he had probably lived too long, so long that the gods of this world had overlooked him in their calculations.
He still remembered the scene from the wedding day, remembered Chi Qian and Shi Jinlan, and Yuan Ming and that Miss Wedding Planner.
“Splash…”
The freshly brewed medicine was poured through a strainer into a bowl, its dark brown color thick with bitterness.
Chi Qingyan unhurriedly poured the medicine, his eyes, looking past the surface of the liquid, filled with a complex mix of emotions, though gratification was the most prominent.
“From now on, everything should be peaceful and well,” Chi Qingyan’s old voice let out a sigh, colored with a deep-seated heartache.
Chi Qian had no idea that Chi Qingyan still remembered that interlude, much less that he had gone to fetch medicine for her.
She was eating the dried salted plums on the table with Shi Jinlan, the rich aroma filling her mouth, when the distant smell of medicine drifted in.
Chi Qian felt something was off. She looked up to see Chi Qingyan carrying a tray with two bowls of medicine. “I heard it rains a lot in Western Europe and the air is damp. This is perfect for dispelling dampness. One bowl for you, and one for Xiao Lan.”
“Huh?” Chi Qian’s high expectations instantly froze and shattered at his words, her expression falling completely.
“What ‘huh’? This is for your own good. Hurry up and drink it,” Chi Qingyan said, giving her no chance to refuse as he pushed a bowl toward her.
“This bowl is yours.” Not wanting to show favoritism, Chi Qingyan pushed the other bowl toward Shi Jinlan.
Faced with Chi Qingyan, Shi Jinlan had no room to negotiate. The little goodwill she had in his eyes had to be maintained with this bowl of medicine.
Without hesitation, Shi Jinlan took the bowl and tilted her head back, downing it.
Perhaps it was because she had just eaten a sweet dried plum, but Chi Qingyan’s medicine tasted especially bitter.
Shi Jinlan’s grip on the bowl tightened imperceptibly. She remained calm and restrained, not letting her expression crack.
Chi Qingyan watched her finish and gave her a rare, smiling nod. Then he turned to urge Chi Qian on. “Xiao Qian, learn from Xiao Lan.”
“Can I not drink it?” Chi Qian was still trying to escape her fate.
Chi Qingyan gave her no chance. “You must. If you don’t drink it properly today, there’s more tomorrow.”
The memory of secretly pouring out a bowl of asthma medicine as a child came rushing back to her.
The thought of what happened after Chi Qingyan had caught her red-handed made her throat go dry.
Chi Qian had no choice. Shi Jinlan clearly meant to curry favor with Chi Qingyan, so she realized no one was going to help her this time.
Fine, sooner or later, you have to die!
If I’m a real woman, I’ll down it in one go!
Mustering all her courage, Chi Qian picked up the bowl of steaming medicine, held her breath, and swallowed it down.
Help me!!!
Grandfather is definitely punishing me!
The medicine was never this bitter before!
Chi Qian’s face scrunched up into a ball, an unprecedented bitterness enveloping her.
“Open your mouth.”
A calm voice echoed beside her. Chi Qian opened her mouth instinctively.
A sugar-dusted dried plum brushed against her tongue. Faintly, she also felt a cool fingertip graze her lips.
The taut string of Chi Qian’s heart was suddenly, gently plucked.
Shi Jinlan had popped a dried plum into her mouth, and the cool sweetness of the sugar coating instantly overpowered the bitterness of the herbs.
“Better?” Chi Qingyan asked softly, watching Chi Qian’s expression gradually return to normal.
“…Better.” Chi Qian chewed the plum a few more times before nodding at him.
“Good. We’ll continue tomorrow,” Chi Qingyan said with a perfectly straight face, though a smile was in his eyes.
“Grandfather!” Chi Qian yelped. She really couldn’t take it anymore!
But Chi Qingyan’s punishment wasn’t going to end so easily. He gathered the bowls from the table and said to her, “I still have herbs to sort. Come help me in a bit.”
“Kay,” Chi Qian mumbled indistinctly, knowing she had no room to negotiate. She bit down on her plum and nodded.
“Was it very bitter?” Shi Jinlan asked, ruffling Chi Qian’s hair after Chi Qingyan had walked away.
Chi Qian nodded, looking at Shi Jinlan strangely. “You didn’t think so at all?”
“A little,” Shi Jinlan admitted, her gaze following Chi Qingyan as he entered and exited the clinic, her expression unreadable.
She didn’t know if she was overthinking it, or if it was the truth.
But before she could figure it out, Chi Qian’s dissatisfied voice came from beside her.
“You’re all so scary.”
Chi Qian decided Shi Jinlan was an absolute monster who wasn’t afraid of bitterness. She tilted her head up at her, brazenly indicating her desire. “More.”
Sunlight filled the main hall, making the space feel as if it were enveloped at the center of the world.
Shi Jinlan didn’t think Chi Qian would dare to do anything here. She picked out a plump dried plum and offered it to her.
But as it turned out, Chi Qian really did dare.
The plum landed on Chi Qian’s tongue. Before Shi Jinlan could pull her fingers away, they were enveloped in a damp, warm place.
Chi Qian’s eyes were sly as she looked at her, a blatant invitation.
The author has something to say:
Lanlan: Hello, 1-1-07? I’ve got a siren here
Footnotes
- An idiom, dàofǎn tiāngāng, that literally means 'to reverse the Big Dipper.' It describes an act of rebellion against the established order, as if turning the heavens upside down.
- Dāiguā, literally 'dull melon,' is an affectionate term for a blockhead or a silly, endearing person.
- An idiom, rì shàng sān gān, that literally means 'the sun is three poles high.' It refers to being late in the morning, around 9 to 11 a.m.
- A common saying, měisè wù rén, meaning that beauty can be dangerously distracting or lead one astray.
- The Húluwá, or Calabash Brothers, are the protagonists of a beloved 1980s Chinese animation. The seven brothers, born from magical gourds, famously call out for their grandfather in the show.
- A classical phrase from the Analects of Confucius, zhī tiānmìng, referring to understanding one's destiny or place in the world. It is traditionally associated with reaching the age of fifty.
- Yāoyāolíng is a playful, homophonic way of saying 110 (yīyīlíng), the police emergency number in China.
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