So I Had No Choice But to Stop Being the White Moonlight – Chapter 118
by Little PandaI’m Not Going to Be the White Moonlight
【You and Master only had one restricted scene; in the first life, you had far more than this!】
The wind died down. In the courtyard, the swaying shadows of the trees settled into a gentle stillness.
The sun was bright and strong, its light merging with the glass of the main hall’s doors and windows. A dry heat was wrapped within the cool autumn air.
Chi Qian’s teeth nibbled gently, with a familiarity that belied a first attempt.
Shi Jinlan’s fingers were suddenly enveloped. She didn’t relax; instead, a breath caught in her throat, caught somewhere between an inhale and an exhale.
She had already experienced this person’s dexterity last night. Now, Shi Jinlan’s fingertips were wrapped in a slick warmth.
It circled around, then slid away. It was clearly just tracing her finger, yet it felt as if it were biting the very tip of her heart.
Shi Jinlan’s usual unflappable composure was beginning to waver.
She watched the deliberate slyness in Chi Qian’s eyes, like a fox, sending her heart into a frantic, tangled rhythm.
“Ah Qian,” Shi Jinlan warned in a low voice, unable to hide the slight tremor in her throat.
But Chi Qian refused, gently gnawing on Shi Jinlan’s finger.
She had two distinctively sharp canines on both her upper and lower jaw. They pressed against the pad of Shi Jinlan’s finger, a delicate, deliberate grinding. It seemed premeditated, but in reality, it was entirely self-taught.
Shi Jinlan was suddenly reminded of last night, when this person had intentionally taken her finger into her mouth.
Since the mischief was already written so plainly in her eyes, Chi Qian made no effort to hide it. Starting from her fingers, she kissed her way up to her wrist, her waist. The heavy, stuffy air filled with moisture, and a burst of heat erupted from within the dense, overgrown forest.
Every part of this person was beautiful.
Especially her nose—a tall, straight bridge, like a mountain peak cleaving through the clouds.
Shi Jinlan even suspected that Chi Qian might be audacious enough to want to do it right here…
But Chi Qian was the classic case of all bark and no bite.
“Xiao Qian, there aren’t many herbs to grind today. Finish up early and get some rest.”
Suddenly, Chi Qingyan’s voice called out to Chi Qian from the medicine room.
Shi Jinlan’s expression changed in an instant, her entire body flinching in a conditioned reflex.
Just a moment ago, Chi Qian’s attention had been entirely on Shi Jinlan. The sudden sound of Chi Qingyan’s voice made her jump.
This directly caused Chi Qian’s jaw to clench, and the restraint she had been exercising on Shi Jinlan’s finger was lost completely.
“I know, Grandfather!” Chi Qian said in a flurry, responding to Chi Qingyan while grabbing Shi Jinlan’s hand, which she had yanked back. She blew on the finger and rubbed it. “I’m sorry, does it hurt?”
Chi Qian kept her head down, her apologetic voice completely devoid of the triumphant swagger from moments before.
Shi Jinlan looked at Chi Qian’s sorry state, a hint of helplessness in her eyes.
Her finger didn’t hurt that much. Following Chi Qian’s movement, she used that same finger to tilt up her chin. “Tell me, were you born in the year of the dog?”
Chi Qian knew she had done something wrong and was obediently compliant.
Hearing Shi Jinlan’s words, she lowered her chin to rest it in Shi Jinlan’s palm. She let out two soft whimpers from her throat, her cheek pressed against Shi Jinlan’s fingers, sounding just like a newborn puppy.
This little puppy was an expert at playing pitiful. She just looked up at Shi Jinlan with those pleading eyes, her dark pupils reflecting a sliver of the light from outside, clean and clear, as if she were the picture of innocence.
Shi Jinlan hadn’t expected Chi Qian to pull a stunt like this. The soft whimpers vibrated from her throat, right against her palm and fingers, making it impossible to scold her.
A cool, gentle breeze blew through the courtyard and into the room.
Shi Jinlan’s heart relaxed considerably. The fingers resting on Chi Qian’s skin gently scratched her chin, as if teasing a kitten or a puppy. The gesture, though from above, was filled with a fondness that held a measure more love than one would show a pet.
Shi Jinlan suddenly realized how much she loved touching Chi Qian.
Chi Qian’s skin always radiated warmth. It wasn’t as hot as a small animal’s, but it was real and soft. Every touch was a reminder of her vibrant life.
However…
“You said I’ve gotten thinner. What about you?” Shi Jinlan’s long finger brushed over Chi Qian’s jawline, the pad of her thumb pressing against the prominent bone with some dissatisfaction.
“It was summer where we were. It was too hot, so I didn’t eat much,” Chi Qian fibbed.
She didn’t want Shi Jinlan to worry about her.
It was all in the past, anyway. Besides, “Autumn is the perfect time for fattening up1. When I’m nourishing you, I can just nourish myself on the side.”
Hearing Chi Qian’s glib answers, Shi Jinlan feigned annoyance and scolded her, “You little heartless one.”
“I’m not heartless,” Chi Qian corrected, her head bobbing up and down in Shi Jinlan’s hand as she spoke.
Chi Qian kept her face nestled in Shi Jinlan’s palm, letting her hand support her. She looked up with those puppy-dog eyes and said, “You said it doesn’t matter if you remember or not, but I’ve remembered everything.”
“I had a very long dream over there. The dream was about our past.”
As she spoke, Chi Qian followed Shi Jinlan’s arm up to clasp the hand that was holding her chin. Her clear pupils were now filled with many unidentifiable emotions. “Don’t stay by the sea alone anymore. Promise me, okay?”
Though it was just a few simple sentences, Shi Jinlan understood without difficulty that Chi Qian had remembered everything.
She had been swept into the Data Black Hole, yet not only was she not annihilated, she had instead recovered memories that had been forgotten.
Shi Jinlan looked into Chi Qian’s eyes, her gaze complex.
She thought that if she were to summarize her life, it would probably be divided into three stages.
In the first stage, she had no power. She mistook the script for fate, yet still defied its control and walked willingly toward death.
In the second stage, she discovered the existence of the System. She trampled on the fate it had assigned her, vengefully seizing Yuan Ming by the throat. She fought the System to a standstill, but was ultimately blinded by hatred and ended up in a mutual destruction with the Main System of that time.
Experience was nurtured with blood.
In the third stage, she had learned to be smarter. She wouldn’t walk into the deep sea alone, nor would she destroy the System.
All things in the world operate on a balance. One side wanes as the other waxes. As long as she was the one who could counterbalance the System, she and Chi Qian would have a long future.
Having thought it through, Shi Jinlan nodded at Chi Qian. “I promise you.”
But she still had many worries, especially about the person before her. “And you.”
“At any time, for any reason, do not put yourself in danger for my sake. Understand?”
Shi Jinlan spoke with great seriousness, her tone more of a command than a rhetorical question asking for a promise.
Chi Qian understood what Shi Jinlan meant.
But she felt she probably still couldn’t do it.
Even without her memories, even if she had only treated this life’s reunion as a mission, she would still have jumped off that cliff without a second thought.
What she could never accept was, once again, letting Shi Jinlan let go of her hand because of her.
But how could she say something like that to Shi Jinlan?
She would only worry again.
Chi Qian wanted to lighten the atmosphere in the room. She squinted her eyes and grinned at Shi Jinlan. “Please, my wife is a big shot who can beat up the System’s boss. Who could possibly put me in danger?”
Chi Qian said this with a particular flair, like something out of an old movie from before Mandarin was standardized.
Seeing Chi Qian’s righteously confident look, Shi Jinlan couldn’t help but let out a small laugh.
What do I do? My wife is too cute.
“Silly girl.”
Shi Jinlan’s chiding was soft and held no threat, filled instead with tenderness.
The hand that had been resting on Chi Qian’s chin lifted slightly. Suddenly, Shi Jinlan wasn’t so worried about whether Chi Qingyan might pop out from somewhere. An itch in her heart became unbearable, and she leaned down and kissed Chi Qian.
Lust muddles the mind.2The honeymoon was over. Now that they were home, the work had to continue.
Chi Qingyan wasn’t as hale and hearty as he used to be. Even without being asked, Chi Qian took the initiative to do whatever she could for him.
The stone roller moved back and forth in the mortar, and the finely ground herbs filled the room with a thick, bitter scent.
Chi Qian sat astride a long bench, suddenly grateful that the current Grandfather wasn’t the same as the original one. Otherwise, not only would she have to grind herbs, but she wouldn’t be able to sleep in on weekends and would have to nervously await his spot quizzes.
Having truly experienced it before, Chi Qian’s opinion was: it was indeed a very effective way to consolidate knowledge, but she didn’t want it anymore.
Getting hit with the discipline ruler really hurt.
As Chi Qian thought this, the pain that had nearly been buried by time resurfaced.
She tightened her grip on the stone roller’s wooden handle, a faint ache blooming in her palm alongside her relief.
But then again, why wasn’t the current Chi Qingyan quizzing her anymore?
Could it be that each successive reincarnation actually caused things to deviate slightly?
“Meow~ (Host~)”
Just as Chi Qian was thinking this, Thirteen strolled over with leisurely steps.
“You’re here.” Chi Qian looked at the cat who had accompanied her for so long, and curiosity welled up. 【I’ve always been curious, how did you become a System?】
【It’s probably a messy story.】 Thirteen wasn’t very clear on it either. 【I remember that Lord Main System… I mean, Yuan Ming, she beckoned to me, and my soul came out of my body. Then I became a System.】
【Ah Yuan.】
Hearing that name, Chi Qian’s eyelashes fell uncontrollably, and the movement of her hands paused.
The more one experiences, the harder it is to see things in black and white.
Scenes of her past interactions with Yuan Ming unfolded before her eyes one by one. She couldn’t help but ask Thirteen: 【How has she been lately?】
【Master turned the entire System upside down looking for you back then. Lord Main System is working hard to repair the System, but the restoration project is massive. There’s no telling when it will be finished,】 Thirteen replied.
Hearing this, Chi Qian thought, that’s Shi Jinlan for you.
But then she thought again, this was the very person the System itself had created.
She wondered if, when they had added the madness of paranoia and tyranny to Shi Jinlan, they had ever considered that they would one day have to face such a crazy psycho3 monster.
A sense of satisfaction washed over Chi Qian at the thought.
Since the topic had shifted to the System, Chi Qian immediately remembered the question that had just popped into her head. 【You came at the right time. I have a question for you.】
【Go ahead, Host.】 Thirteen leaped onto Chi Qian’s lap, a proactive gesture that held some of the intimacy from their first life together. 【I will tell you everything I know.】
【Why are so many details in this life different from the last one? Aren’t your System’s stories supposed to be unchangeable?】 Chi Qian asked, propping her chin on her hand.
【Things close to the main storyline can’t be changed, but things far from the main storyline can be,】 Thirteen answered.
【For example, Grandfather quizzing you every week. Because many Mission-Takers don’t have that kind of knowledge base, to prevent them from being exposed, Lord Main System changed the Host’s ‘skilled in medicine’ trait to ‘unskilled in studies.’】
This example perfectly addressed Chi Qian’s earlier question, but it made her frown slightly. 【So sloppy.】
She suddenly had new doubts about the System’s professionalism. She then hugged Thirteen’s body, forcing it to face her, and interrogated it: 【What else did your System change? Were there any changes to what happened between me and Shi Jinlan?】
Seeing Chi Qian’s serious expression, Thirteen felt no pressure at all.
The clean little cat stepped on Chi Qian’s leg and tilted its head slightly. 【Hasn’t the Host noticed?】
【What?】 Chi Qian was taken aback.
Seeing Chi Qian so out of the loop, Thirteen got a little excited. 【It was written in the blurb4! You were originally supposed to meet Master, fall in love, contribute to the original text’s few and far between restricted scenes5, and finally achieve Master’s Blackening through your death!】
As Thirteen spoke, its voice grew louder. 【You and Master only had one restricted scene, but in the first life, you had far more than this!】
In an instant, Chi Qian’s mind was flooded with memories of her past life.
After the fireworks, on the cruise ship.
The room filled with warm sunlight in the winter…
Her time with Shi Jinlan back then hadn’t just been a single, bland and watery6 kiss.
The scenes of her and Shi Jinlan together were far more numerous than when she had been doing the mission.
Thirteen reached out its two paws, scrambled onto Chi Qian’s shoulder, and reminded her earnestly: 【Are you really not going to compensate Master?!】
The author has something to say:
Qianqian: face bright red.
Footnotes
- Tiē qiū biāo, literally 'to paste on autumn fat,' is a cultural practice in China. After the summer heat, people eat hearty, rich foods to gain weight and store energy for the coming winter.
- An idiom, sè lìng zhì hūn, meaning that lust or infatuation can make one lose their senses and act foolishly.
- Fēngpī is a popular internet slang term for a character archetype that is dangerously unhinged, obsessive, and often violent, yet possesses a certain charisma. It's a stronger term than just 'crazy.'
- Wén'àn refers to the official summary, synopsis, or promotional text for a story, much like a book's blurb.
- Xiànzhìjí chǎngmiàn is a term for explicit or R-rated content, often used in the context of media ratings.
- An idiom, qīngtāngguǎshuǐ, literally 'clear soup, little water.' It's used to describe something bland, plain, or lacking in substance, like a weak soup. Here, it refers to a lack of romantic or physical intimacy.
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