So I Had No Choice But to Stop Being the White Moonlight – Chapter 121
by Little PandaI’m Not Going to Be the White Moonlight
“Love you~”
Sunlight struck the cartoon-shaped clock on the wall. The aged second hand crept a full circle along the shadow it cast on the floor.
A cool, gentle breeze blew through the empty courtyard, sending the curtains by the window fluttering and shielding the two people in the room from view.
Their long hair intertwined, falling in a soft cascade over Chi Qian’s shoulder.
They had just kissed last night, and now it came as naturally as breathing.
The moment Shi Jinlan’s voice faded, Chi Qian obediently parted her lips.
Shi Jinlan’s kiss was slow and familiar, a gentle warmth that arrived at the tip of her tongue, the dampness filled with intimate tenderness.
The kiss came from behind. Chi Qian tilted her neck back slightly, letting Shi Jinlan trace her lips unhurriedly.
Sunlight landed on her throat. Every swallow seemed to send a fleck of golden light tumbling down into the emptiness of her chest.
Shi Jinlan’s arm rested beside Chi Qian. She sought out the cool skin, her hand moving down to caress the back of Shi Jinlan’s hand.
The undershirt she had been holding was now crumpled into several folds. Fingers threaded through the gaps between fingers, and the gentle kiss probed through the seam of her lips.
The morning sun brought with it the fresh brightness of a new day, making one feel like a lazy cat basking in its warmth.
Under Shi Jinlan’s meticulous, consuming kisses, Chi Qian slowly closed her eyes. Kissing, she thought, was truly addictive.
But Shi Jinlan always possessed a terrifying self-control.
Just as Chi Qian was sinking deeper, wanting to press Shi Jinlan down, the other woman pulled away.
Her scorching breath burst against Chi Qian’s ear. Though she was clearly sinking just as deep, her tone was unnervingly steady.
Shi Jinlan patted Chi Qian as if stroking a pet. “Don’t keep Grandfather waiting too long,” she said.
It was a reminder Chi Qian couldn’t refuse.
After all, when it came to Shi Jinlan getting on her grandfather’s good side, even if she couldn’t help, she certainly couldn’t be a hindrance.
“Alright.” Chi Qian reluctantly let go of Shi Jinlan’s hand.
But as she spoke, she tightened her grip again, reversing her own retreat.
She pulled Shi Jinlan close, greedily pressing another kiss to her lips before finally letting go.
Stepping out of the room, Chi Qian was greeted by the familiar, fragrant smell of food.
It had been so long. Chi Qian felt like a college student on their first day home for break. Chi Qingyan had missed her dearly and had woken up early to make her favorite fresh vegetable pancakes.
If there was one thing Chi Qingyan was good at besides medicine, it was cooking.
Ever since she was little, he would make anything she wanted, but only once or twice at most. As soon as the novelty wore off, the old man would complain it was too much trouble.
Take these fresh vegetable pancakes, her absolute favorite.
Picking the vegetables, mixing the filling, kneading the dough, then frying each little pancake on the electric baking pan1—the whole process took an hour. In that time, he could have read several pages of a book or written several prescriptions.
Usually, Chi Qian had to pester him for ten days to half a month before he would grudgingly agree to make them once.
So now, seeing the pancakes stacked neatly on a plate, Chi Qian’s eyes were practically glowing.
She suddenly felt that coming back was so, so worth it.
If for nothing else, for this taste alone, she would have fought with all her might to return!
“Is it good?” Chi Qingyan watched Chi Qian grab her fourth pancake, his eyes filled with the satisfied smile of an elder.
“Delicious!” Chi Qian nodded without hesitation, her face overflowing with happiness. “Grandfather, the pancakes you make are simply divine!”
But even knowing how much Chi Qian loved his cooking, Chi Qingyan didn’t let her overindulge.
He left one pancake each on Chi Qian’s and Shi Jinlan’s plates and moved the rest over to his side. “Even if it’s delicious, don’t overdo it.”
He had something to tell her. Looking at her little-squirrel-like face, he said gently, “After you eat, pick a few things from what you brought back yesterday and take them to Auntie Zhou and Uncle Yuan. They helped out a lot with your wedding. You can’t neglect them, understand?”
“I know, I know.” Chi Qian nodded, replying obediently, “I don’t need to pick from your things. I already have their gifts prepared. I just wanted to spend more time with you yesterday, so I didn’t go.”
As she said this, she gave Chi Qingyan a sweet smile.
She stuffed the last bit of pancake into her mouth, and the hand resting on the table brazenly reached for the plate of pancakes next to her grandfather.
Smack.
To her surprise, her obedience didn’t earn her a pass from Chi Qingyan. Instead, her hand was slapped sharply. “You can have more at lunch.”
Chi Qian knew she couldn’t win against him; once Grandfather made up his mind, he wouldn’t change it.
She sighed, admitting defeat. “I know,” she said, her voice laced with a longing for the pancakes as she headed out the door.
Shi Jinlan had very little desire for food herself, so she found Chi Qian’s utterly dejected state rather amusing.
She reached out and ruffled Chi Qian’s hair. “Isn’t it just because you didn’t get to eat your fill? Is it that upsetting?”
“This is respect for good food!” Chi Qian retorted. She then squeezed Shi Jinlan’s slender wrist. “You’re so thin because you lack this sense of reverence! From now on, you must join me in respecting the God of Food!”
Shi Jinlan hadn’t expected Chi Qian to have so many strange theories. Hearing this, she replied faintly, “In that case, I’ll just eat this myself.”
As she spoke, Chi Qian saw Shi Jinlan produce, from out of nowhere, one of the fresh vegetable pancakes that Chi Qingyan had just put away.
Her previously listless eyes lit up in an instant, as if the sun had suddenly risen, brightening her entire face.
“Hey!”
Chi Qian quickly grabbed Shi Jinlan’s arm, her eyes filled with longing. “Ah Lan! Friends share, you know? Just half… please?”
The collar around her neck had been taken off when they returned.
Yet Shi Jinlan still felt the person before her was like a little puppy. Her small, palm-sized face was wreathed in smiles. If humans hadn’t evolved away their tails, she was sure Chi Qian would be wagging hers furiously right now.
So hopeless.
But so what?
“Here.” As the thought crossed her mind, Shi Jinlan handed the entire pancake to Chi Qian. “It’s all yours. I won’t fight you for it.”
“Ah Lan, you’re the best.” Her wish granted, Chi Qian happily took the pancake.
She felt this was simply the most wonderful day.
She had pancakes made by her grandfather, and a wife who helped her smuggle2 them.
A perfect day could be no better than this!
Chi Qian looked eagerly at the pancake in her hand, but she didn’t forget who had brought her this satisfaction.
Before taking a bite, she leaned over and planted a quick, smacking kiss on Shi Jinlan’s cheek, then devoured the pancake in two or three bites.
Shi Jinlan hadn’t expected Chi Qian to be so direct and froze for a second.
Under the sun, a pair of round, almond-shaped eyes were filled with light, dazzlingly occupying her entire field of vision.
Chi Qian made no attempt to hide it, her love for Shi Jinlan expressed with radiant warmth. “Love you~”
Thump! Thump! Thump!
There was no time to rein it in. Shi Jinlan’s heart leaped out of her chest.
The arsonist had no idea what a fire she’d just started. Shi Jinlan stared, transfixed, at the person now savoring the pancake, and decided she would steal another one for her tonight.
While eating the pancake, Chi Qian and Shi Jinlan arrived at Auntie Zhou’s Hot Spring Inn.
They had come at an inconvenient time. A large tour group had arrived at the inn today, and Auntie Zhou, as the owner, was personally attending to them, busy beyond belief.
Chi Qian had just handed over the gifts from their honeymoon trip and barely exchanged a few words before Auntie Zhou was called away again.
Watching Auntie Zhou’s bustling figure, Chi Qian felt a genuine happiness for her.
Who would complain about their business being too good?
It should only get better and better.
“Let’s go,” Chi Qian said, tugging on Shi Jinlan’s hand and looking at the great hero who had led the island’s original inhabitants to a better life.
“Alright,” Shi Jinlan nodded, ignoring Chi Qian’s slightly teasing gaze.
Leaving Auntie Zhou’s inn and heading east, Yuan Ming’s house was just two hutongs3 away.
To be honest, Chi Qian still hadn’t figured out how to act around Yuan Ming. She was afraid Yuan Ming would ignore her, afraid their relationship could never go back to how it was, and even more afraid that she herself still harbored reservations about Yuan Ming.
Feelings were something you couldn’t always put into words.
That applied not only to love, but to friendship as well.
Clenching her hand nervously, Chi Qian knocked on Yuan Ming’s door.
Soon, footsteps sounded from the courtyard, and as the door opened, a tall figure appeared before Chi Qian and Shi Jinlan.
The man’s eyes lit up the moment he saw Chi Qian, and he called out warmly, “Yo, Qianqian’s back.”
This man was Yuan Ming’s father, the Uncle Yuan that Chi Qingyan had mentioned.
“Uncle Yuan.” Chi Qian nodded politely and handed him the bag she was carrying. “These are some local specialties Ah Lan and I bought on our trip. We wanted to bring them for you.”
“How thoughtful of you, Qianqian.” Yuan Ming’s father was very fond of Chi Qian. He accepted the gift cheerfully and, just like in the old days, pointed toward Yuan Ming’s study on the second floor. “Xiao Ming is in her room with her friend. You can go on up and find her.”
Yuan Ming’s friend…
Song Tang?
A flicker of confusion crossed Chi Qian’s mind before Song Tang’s name surfaced.
She glanced at Shi Jinlan, then feigned a normal expression as she thanked Yuan Ming’s father. “Thank you, Uncle!”
“Go on up. I have to go out for a bit. You two have fun.” Yuan Ming’s father waved at Chi Qian and carried the gifts she’d brought into the main hall.
Yuan Ming’s house was a newly built two-story building with excellent soundproofing. You couldn’t hear anything between the floors.
So Yuan Ming and Song Tang didn’t hear the conversation downstairs.
And those downstairs couldn’t hear their argument.
“What if I hadn’t found out?”
Song Tang’s voice was thick with suppressed anger. She stared fixedly at Yuan Ming, demanding, “If I hadn’t seen this report, were you planning to hide it from me forever and just leave all by yourself?”
Yuan Ming hadn’t expected the secret she’d tried so hard to keep would be discovered this way.
Her gentle eyes were evasive. With a hint of dejection, she explained, “I just don’t want you to suffer with me. You’ll grow to resent me.”
Song Tang didn’t understand the basis for that statement. It only made her more agitated. “Why? Why would you think I’d resent you? Is that the kind of person I am in your heart, someone who can’t endure the slightest hardship?”
“No.” Yuan Ming’s gaze flickered, guilt weaving through her gentleness like scars across the moon.
“Because of my decision, you drifted in the system for so long. I just want you to be well.”
As she spoke, Yuan Ming forced a faint, warm smile for Song Tang’s sake. “It’s not… it’s not like I won’t be coming back.”
“Liar.”
But Song Tang could see the wavering in Yuan Ming’s eyes and cut her off flatly.
“I’m not lying to you. Don’t think that.” Hearing those two words, Yuan Ming felt a crack open in her heart.
She looked at Song Tang’s eyes, which were locked on hers, and reached out, wanting to touch the strands of red hair that had fallen loose by Song Tang’s ear.
“I’m going to think that.”
Song Tang gritted her teeth, telling Yuan Ming fiercely that she didn’t want to leave her.
Her lowered hand shot up, grabbing Yuan Ming’s wrist before it could touch her hair. She stood with her. “Ah Yuan, even in death, I’ll be with you!”
Thud.
With a dull sound, a figure was slammed against a bookshelf.
Yuan Ming’s slender shoulders hit the bookcase. A tall figure fell over her, kissing her with abandon.
Song Tang’s kiss was chaotic, devoid of rhyme or reason. She didn’t know how else to make Yuan Ming stay, and desire burned hot in her blood.
If this was how she could express her feelings, then she refused to follow some gradual approach4 written in a book.
“Mmph, Ah Song!”
The sudden kiss threw Yuan Ming into a state of utter disarray.
It had been so long. The last time she and Song Tang had kissed was before the world reset, in a cycle she could no longer count.
Song Tang’s clumsy kiss forced her lips apart, and a damp heat filled her mouth.
She instinctively tried to struggle, but Song Tang wouldn’t let her, holding her fast in the kiss.
The sharp, intense scent of alcohol pressed down from above.
Memories were pried loose, bit by bit. She seemed to recall the feeling of kissing Song Tang before, and her resisting hands slowly relaxed.
The sound of waves washing over the shore seemed to surge into the room.
Yuan Ming subconsciously sought out Song Tang’s wrist and, in response, stopped resisting, their fingers intertwining.
Thump.
A bird flitted past the window, its shadow flickering through the room.
The faint sound was drowned out by the delicate sound of water. Song Tang paid it no mind, nor did she see the door being pushed open, then shut again.
In the hallway, Chi Qian stood frozen, her hand still on the doorknob, staring blankly at the door she had just opened and immediately closed.
Shi Jinlan looked at her reaction, a confused expression on her face. “What’s wrong?”
The author has something to say:
Qianqian: Tang, you guys play this rough?
Tangtang: Qian, you and President Shi are no small-timers either.
Footnotes
- An electric baking pan (diànbǐngdāng) is a common Chinese household appliance. It's a covered, double-sided griddle used for making pancakes, flatbreads, and other similar dishes.
- The original idiom is 'àndù Chéncāng' (暗度陈仓), meaning 'to secretly cross to Chencang.' It refers to a famous military strategy of feigning one action to distract from the real, covert one. Here, it's used playfully to mean smuggling contraband.
- A hutong (hútòng) is a type of narrow street or alley, most commonly associated with the traditional courtyard residences of northern Chinese cities like Beijing.
- The original phrase is 'xúxú tú zhī' (徐徐图之), an idiom that means to plan slowly and advance cautiously. Song Tang is abandoning that idea in favor of direct, passionate action.
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