So I Had No Choice But to Stop Being the White Moonlight – Chapter 122
by Little PandaI’m Not Going to Be the White Moonlight
“President Shi, a product with a very strong sense of territory.”
“Wh, at, is, it.”
When Shi Jinlan asked her this question, Chi Qian hadn’t even known how to answer her.
She almost couldn’t believe her own eyes, fearing she had simply opened the door too quickly and seen it wrong.
Ever since the wedding preparations began, Chi Qian had sensed an unusual bond between Yuan Ming and Song Tang.
Later, upon returning to the island, Thirteen had stayed up all night to fill her in on Yuan Ming and Song Tang’s story.
Chi Qian had sighed over the fact that even the Main System could not escape the teasing of fate, and she had pitied everything Yuan Ming had done for Song Tang.
But simply knowing these things was enough. Chi Qian felt it was absolutely unnecessary to confirm they were back together by actually seeing the sight of Song Tang and Yuan Ming kissing.
An old-fashioned light bulb hung in the dim corridor, its warm yellow light falling upon Chi Qian’s face, making it seem as though it were brushed with a layer of pink.
Shi Jinlan found Chi Qian’s reaction incredibly strange. Just as she was about to speak, the other woman grabbed her hand and pressed their foreheads together.
Chi Qian remembered the last time Shi Jinlan had pressed their foreheads together, seeing the images playing out in her mind.
So, she tried it this time, attempting to play the scene she had just witnessed back to Shi Jinlan.
The memory was shared: the tightly shut door was pushed open from the outside.
Sunlight traced the overlapping silhouettes of the figures leaning against the bookcase, starting from their interlaced fingers and extending all the way to their intimately joined lips.
Upon seeing this image, Shi Jinlan reacted much more calmly than Chi Qian.
Maintaining her usual unflappable indifference, she covered Chi Qian’s hand—which was still gripping the doorknob—and narrowed her eyes slightly. “I think we ought to knock before entering a room.”
“I think so too,” Chi Qian agreed.
Just as she was about to raise her hand to knock, pretending she hadn’t seen a thing, a wave of warmth brushed against her back.
Shi Jinlan parted her thin lips. It sounded as if she were muttering to herself, yet the words casually fell into Chi Qian’s ears. “A study really is a good place.”
Chi Qian stiffened immediately.
The Shi family lacked for nothing, least of all studies. Almost every house had one; if rooms that merely housed bookshelves and books were counted, Chi Qian felt she wouldn’t have enough fingers on one hand to count them all.
There were far too many such “good places.”
It inevitably reminded Chi Qian of what Shi Jinlan had asked her last night: “Has Ah Qian thought of how to compensate me?”
Chi Qian hadn’t figured out how to compensate her.
Yet Shi Jinlan seemed to have already started scouting locations.
Chi Qian suddenly felt an ache in her wrists. The warmth pressing against her back ignited the gradually cooling autumn air.
She decided this was absolutely not a good place to let her imagination run wild. She hurriedly pushed Shi Jinlan away slightly and stated with utmost seriousness, “I’m going to knock now.”
“Knock knock knock.”
The people outside the door spoke in hushed voices; the people inside had not noticed a thing.
The sudden knocking startled Yuan Ming. She lightly squeezed Song Tang’s hand and pulled away from her.
“Why are you so frightened?” Feeling the slightly heavy pressure of Yuan Ming’s grip on her fingers, Song Tang shifted her own and gently squeezed back.
The lingering heat poured down. Beneath the red hair lay a pair of eyes that could hardly be called calm.
Song Tang asked this in a low voice, her words pressed against the shell of Yuan Ming’s ear, heavy with lustful aura.
Whether influenced by Song Tang or something else, Yuan Ming lowered her eyes slightly and rested her full forehead against Song Tang’s shoulder.
Her voice wasn’t loud. Gentle and slow, she told Song Tang, “Ah Qian is here.”
“Ah Qian?”
Hearing that name, Song Tang couldn’t help but freeze.
Joy suddenly swelled in her heart, and she looked excitedly toward the door, but then she suppressed her excitement and looked at Yuan Ming resting on her shoulder.
The Main System possessed extraordinary perceptive abilities regarding all things; ever since the knocking began, Yuan Ming’s emotions had been slowly tensing.
Her voice was very low, and her gentle features revealed her nervousness.
Song Tang knew that facing Chi Qian made her incredibly anxious.
After all, Yuan Ming could openly and honorably say she loved Song Tang.
She could unabashedly declare her hatred for Shi Jinlan.
But she could never manage to be so straightforward when facing Chi Qian.
Because Chi Qian was her friend, and Yuan Ming’s friend, and moreover, Shi Jinlan’s lover.
They were two clearly contradictory relationships, yet they had twisted together through countless reincarnations.
Because she was someone she cared about, Yuan Ming feared Chi Qian would hate her for the things she had done in the past.
Song Tang understood Yuan Ming’s tangled sense of guilt, which was exactly why she had just fought with her so fiercely.
She had said she wouldn’t let Yuan Ming face it alone. She stroked Yuan Ming’s back and said with certainty, “It’s fine. I’m with you.”
“Don’t look at how careless Ah Qian usually is; she thinks about things very clearly.” Song Tang comforted Yuan Ming, itching to get to the door that stood between them. “Shall I get the door?”
“Okay.” Yuan Ming nodded, taking the initiative to release Song Tang’s tightly held hand.
She was the one who had caused the disaster.
She should be the one to face the consequences.
After knocking twice, Chi Qian did not receive a quick response.
She knew what the people inside were doing, so she wasn’t in a hurry to rush them.
But just when she hadn’t prepared herself, the door was suddenly opened from the inside.
Suddenly, Chi Qian felt someone hug her.
Red hair entered her field of vision, and slender arms threw themselves around her neck, squeezing her until she could barely breathe.
“Ah Qian, it really is you!” Song Tang’s excited voice rained down from above Chi Qian’s head, filled with the joy of reunion.
“Ahem, ahem.”
But Chi Qian really couldn’t bear this level of joy. Swallowing hard against the tight grip on her throat, she raised her hand and tapped on Song Tang’s arm. “If you squeeze any tighter, I’m going to leave again!”
Hearing this, Song Tang immediately realized she was overdoing it. She hastily let go and helped Chi Qian catch her breath. “Sorry about that, Ah Qian. I was just too excited. Do you have any idea how worried I was about you when you left?”
She looked down at Chi Qian’s gradually recovering complexion, the smile never fading from her eyes. “It’s so good. You’re finally back.”
“Yeah, great fortune and a great life1. I passed your final trial.” Chi Qian gave Song Tang a helpless look. Infected by the other woman’s excitement, her nervousness from walking upstairs had lessened considerably, and she began to joke back.
“Ah Qian.”
As Chi Qian was immersed in her reunion with Song Tang, a gentle voice came from between them.
Without a moment’s pause, she knew subconsciously whose voice it was.
Following the sound, her gaze shifted over.
The sun was squeezing through a corner of the window, shining brightly into the room.
Yuan Ming stood in front of the bookshelf. The sunlight rested on her thick, delicate eyebrows, coating her dark brown pupils with a layer of gold. Calm and gentle, she looked exactly like her usual, mild-mannered self.
In a daze, Chi Qian felt as though they had returned to the days in the past when nothing had happened yet.
Her mindset toward Yuan Ming seemed to have remained completely unchanged, yet at the same time, something was different.
Yuan Ming was actually the Main System.
Yuan Ming had always wanted to erase Shi Jinlan’s existence.
At the thought of these two things, the joy of reunion in Chi Qian’s eyes faded somewhat.
Her gaze flickered slightly as she looked at Yuan Ming—familiar yet foreign, intimate yet forbidden. She didn’t know if she should, or even could, continue to be friends with her.
“Ah Yuan missed you very much, too.” Smelling the awkwardness in the study, Song Tang took the initiative to step to Chi Qian’s side and speak on Yuan Ming’s behalf. “She also really regrets what happened before.”
These words brought the unspeakable issues between Chi Qian and Yuan Ming out into the open.
So Chi Qian stopped hesitating. Looking straight at Yuan Ming, she posed a question regarding Song Tang’s statement: “Are you regretting that I chose to disappear because I didn’t want you to erase Shi Jinlan’s existence? Or are you regretting that you shouldn’t have deprived anyone of their right to resist fate and survive?”
Hearing this question, Yuan Ming paused.
After a brief internal struggle, she decided to tell Chi Qian her true thoughts. “What if I said it’s both?”
“To humans, the Main System is cruel. It pities everything, yet stands by and watches millions of things unfold with folded arms. But I was trapped in the obsession of wanting to find Ah Song, and I ignored all those people who were fighting with all their might to survive within the stories. If I had truly succeeded, our current story wouldn’t exist.”
“And perhaps…”
As she spoke, Yuan Ming’s gaze drifted toward Shi Jinlan, who was standing beside Chi Qian.
There was no longer any hostility stirred up in her gentle eyes. Her words were for Chi Qian, but also for Shi Jinlan: “You and Miss Shi would have been together long ago.”
“After going through this, I think perhaps the System’s judgment of character stories is indeed flawed. The awakening of characters in a story shouldn’t be met with simple excision and elimination. Perhaps they aren’t necessarily viruses that will damage the System…”
Yuan Ming paused at the end of her sentence.
She had her pride as the supreme ruler of the System, and an even deeper, awkward, yet undeniable acknowledgment toward Shi Jinlan.
So Shi Jinlan simply finished the thought for her.
Standing in the most inconspicuous spot in the study, she offered Yuan Ming a refined smile. “Rather, they are respectable opponents.”
“Yes.” Yuan Ming agreed. She looked straight at Shi Jinlan, echoing her conclusion. “Opponents.”
A bizarre atmosphere squeezed into the moderately sized study.
Looking at Yuan Ming and Shi Jinlan, Chi Qian somehow found them incredibly strange. It was as if during the twenty-odd days she had been away, the two of them had gone through some ordeal that forced them to collaborate.
Even though they were hostile to each other.
They had been forced to cooperate.
At this thought, Chi Qian seemed to understand a little.
The only thing that could make Shi Jinlan accept Yuan Ming, and Yuan Ming accept Shi Jinlan, was the search for herself.
During those long twenty-eight days, they had been forced to bind themselves together.
Collaboration, friction, and finally, reaching a bizarre state—they were mortal enemies incompatible as fire and water, yet also friends who cooperated with tacit understanding.
Chi Qian suddenly felt the thrill of shipping them.
And from this bizarre atmosphere, her attitude toward Yuan Ming found its balance again.
She realized she couldn’t bring herself to be overly harsh with Yuan Ming.
She hadn’t forgotten that Yuan Ming had genuinely wanted to save her. She truly considered Chi Qian a lifelong friend, so even though she hated Shi Jinlan, she had chosen to endure and cooperate for the time being.
And Shi Jinlan was exactly the same.
“In order to find you, the two of them had to work together. They collaborated until neither of them had any temper left, and that’s just how they got by.” Song Tang leaned in close to Chi Qian’s ear, whispering to fill her in on how Yuan Ming and Shi Jinlan had interacted during her absence.
“Because our memories overlap, I—being the one outside the Data Black Hole—was responsible for marking your position inside the black hole. You have no idea, these two went completely insane. In order to pinpoint your exact coordinates, the System was filled with overloaded electric sparks. They competed to outdo one another, neither willing to admit defeat.”
Song Tang paused.
Her brows furrowed slightly, somewhat puzzled by what she was about to say next. “However, in the end, I still didn’t quite understand how your President Shi managed to find you.”
“Did Ah Lan write a very complex retrieval program?” Chi Qian didn’t know much about system programming; she asked based on the meager knowledge she had picked up from Song Tang’s memories.
“It didn’t look like it.” Song Tang couldn’t explain it clearly either. “Ah Yuan tried to feel it out afterward, but she was blocked by your President Shi.”
“President Shi, a product with a very strong sense of territory,” Song Tang said. Paying absolutely no mind to the turbulent undercurrents between the two women opposite them, she secretly gave Chi Qian a thumbs-up.
“You’re crazy.”
Seeing the thumbs-up, Chi Qian inexplicably felt her funny bone tickled by Song Tang.
She hurriedly pushed Song Tang’s thumb down and looked up at Shi Jinlan. The skin beneath her base-layer shirt felt slightly hot from the sunlight. In her heart, she secretly agreed—this person’s territorial instincts were indeed very strong.
“Alright, since Ah Qian is back, let’s not just stand around chatting dryly.”
Seeing that the two women staring silently at each other wasn’t going to get them anywhere, Song Tang acted as the lubricant, stepping between Yuan Ming and Shi Jinlan. “I heard a huge shopping center opened on the neighboring island. Do you guys want to go look around, and maybe catch a movie while we’re at it?”
“But there’s nothing fun on the neighboring island.” Yuan Ming reacted swiftly to Song Tang’s voice, her mind turning just as quickly. With that, she proposed, “Why don’t we go to Shinian Plaza in Ningcheng City?”
At the mention of this familiar name, Yuan Ming smiled warmly at the mall’s owner, Shi Jinlan. “They say it’s the largest mall in the country. I’d quite like to see if that’s just a gimmick.”
Hearing this, Shi Jinlan returned the smile, not backing down in the slightest. “Then let’s go. I’ll call for a helicopter.”
“Wouldn’t this be fine?” Yuan Ming said, drawing a circle by her side.
The mall’s metallic music echoed and drifted into the study. It was a thousand miles away, yet close at hand.
A gentle breeze blew in, dispelling the outdoor chill of the cool autumn.
Her expression tranquil, Shi Jinlan raised her hand in response.
Those long, slender fingers swiped indifferently, drawing a circle on the same side as Yuan Ming. “Of course.”
These two engaged in a magical battle of one-upmanship, but Chi Qian and Song Tang were spared the fallout.
They were still out of the loop and had no idea what the two women in front of them had just done to directly open spatial portals. One second they were in Yuan Ming’s study, and the next, they had arrived in Ningcheng City.
The central air conditioning in the mall pumped out plenty of warm air, and an eclectic mix of music echoed in the elevator lobby where no one paid it any mind.
The elevator doors, which had just indicated they were idle, suddenly opened. Chi Qian and Song Tang exchanged a glance and feigned calmness as they stepped out of the elevator car.
Whatever Shi Jinlan and Yuan Ming had done, the group exited the elevator right onto the top floor of the mall.
A massive cinema lobby appeared before them, looping trailers for currently showing movies.
Chi Qian felt like she hadn’t seen a movie in ages. She figured since they were here, they might as well catch a film before walking around the mall.
“Which one do you think looks good?” Chi Qian looked at the posters in the lobby and tugged on Song Tang’s arm, unsure of what to watch.
“They all look like terrible movies.” Song Tang stared at the trailer that had just finished and the one that was just beginning, complaining bluntly.
Chi Qian felt the same way.
She nodded, feeling like this trip might have been a bit of a waste.
But soon, Chi Qian’s gaze locked onto a rather eerie poster. “I remember this one—didn’t it win some awards overseas?”
“Yeah.” Song Tang nodded, her eyes brightening as well. “You weren’t around these past few days, but the praise for it has been overwhelming. They say it’s shot really well, it’s just that the subject matter is a bit bizarre.”
Listening to this made Chi Qian want to see it. Itching to go, she looked at Song Tang. “Are you scared?”
“I’m not scared,” Song Tang shook her head, then looked at Chi Qian.
Chi Qian also declared, “I’m not scared either.”
With just a few words, the two of them decided on the movie they wanted to watch, and by unspoken agreement, they both turned to look at the lovers beside them who hadn’t said a word.
Yuan Ming discreetly swallowed. Her eyes retained their usual gentle appearance as she told Song Tang, “I don’t have a problem with it, I just don’t know if Miss Shi would be frightened by this sort of supernatural ghost genre.”
Shi Jinlan smiled upon hearing this.
Looking at Chi Qian, she stated, “Since Miss Yuan has no problem with it, I have no problem with it either.”
Somehow, looking at the atmosphere between the two of them, Chi Qian felt that it wasn’t entirely “no problem.”
But Song Tang was quick to act. Hearing them both agree, she immediately walked over to the ticketing machine and bought four tickets.
The mechanical sound of the ticket printer clacked out, like a coarse saw grinding against a person’s heart.
Song Tang smoothly pulled the four tickets from the dispenser and waved them at the trio. “Alright! The show starts in ten minutes. I bought couples’ ticket packages; they come with popcorn and juice. Let’s go grab them!”
Under Song Tang’s enthusiastic arrangements, Chi Qian quickly forgot about the competitive tension between Shi Jinlan and Yuan Ming from earlier.
Furthermore, when she walked into the theater holding the popcorn and juice, she found that the movie wasn’t actually as scary as the promotional materials made it out to be.
Compared to the unknowable, eerie forces presented in the film, the group of people around the female protagonist—who instigated and manipulated each other—were far more terrifying.
As for why this film was so successful…
Chi Qian felt its pseudo-documentary filming style had genuinely grasped the hearts of many viewers.
Because you never knew when the camera would flash; after a dark shadow and the sound of footsteps flickered past, a bloody handprint would suddenly appear on the glass mirror.
“Ah!”
Another one of these suspenseful shots flashed by, and an uncontrolled gasp escaped from the audience.
Chi Qian hadn’t been frightened by the movie, but the sound gave her a start.
She kept thinking the voice sounded familiar. Turning her head to look at Song Tang, she saw that Yuan Ming seemed to have broken her composure; terrified by the scene just now, she threw herself into Song Tang’s arms, spilling popcorn all over the floor.
Chi Qian had originally assumed the sound came from Song Tang and had been preparing to mock her a bit in the spirit of a bad friend. She hadn’t expected the one who was frightened to be someone else entirely.
Was the Main System, a supernatural entity itself, also afraid of eerie events fabricated by the human world?
Chi Qian felt a slight sense of dissonance at the sight before her, casting a concerned glance at Song Tang.
Song Tang lightly hugged Yuan Ming’s shoulders, stroking and comforting her while mouthing to Chi Qian: “It’s fine.”
It was rare to see Song Tang look so reliable. As Chi Qian nodded, she raised her eyebrows and shot her a couple of teasing glances.
Thinking about how Yuan Ming finally had someone who loved and cared for her, Chi Qian abruptly breathed a sigh of relief.
But before she could fully exhale, Chi Qian sensed a weird atmosphere beside her.
She turned her head to look at Shi Jinlan sitting next to her. In the dim lighting, Shi Jinlan was sitting exceptionally straight.
There was no sense of relaxed languor about her; those tense shoulders seemed to be leaning toward Chi Qian.
The light falling from above them could barely squeeze through, she was leaning in so exceptionally tight against Chi Qian’s side.
Chi Qian felt there was something slightly off about Shi Jinlan like this. Leaning past the drinks placed between them, she reached out to touch Shi Jinlan.
Just as the cold air from the outer wall of the drink cup brushed the fine fuzz on the back of Chi Qian’s hand, her hand fell into a tightly clenched palm.
The dim light traced a taut contour on Shi Jinlan’s forearm. Her arm was tense to a certain degree, and without a single word, she gripped Chi Qian’s hand with extraordinary speed.
Cold air and dampness collided. Chi Qian discovered that Shi Jinlan’s hand was covered in sweat.
…No way, right?
Chi Qian’s heart pounded. She couldn’t believe it, yet she had to accept the realization that she had discovered an incredible, utterly childish secret.
She firmly suppressed this thought. Her sly gaze circled the pair of eyes that Shi Jinlan kept locked onto the big screen, not making a sound.
“I need to go to the restroom. Will you come with me? I’m a little scared.” Her voice extremely light, Chi Qian squeezed Shi Jinlan’s hand and pleaded with her.
Hearing this, Shi Jinlan couldn’t discern the slightest hint of acting on Chi Qian’s face. Putting on an air of absolute composure, she calmly shifted her gaze from the movie to Chi Qian’s face. “Alright.”
Moving with minimal disturbance to the audience, Chi Qian and Shi Jinlan bypassed the seats and walked out of the cinema hall.
During this timeframe, movies were playing in every theater, so there were hardly any people in the restrooms. There was absolutely no need to line up.
Clear, cold water flowed slowly from the faucet, carrying a bit of bleak chill as it wet one’s fingers.
After coming out of the stall, Shi Jinlan washed her face in front of the restroom mirror to properly calm herself down.
She rarely regretted her decisions, but at this moment, she truly felt that watching a horror movie had been a terrible idea.
Exactly when had she started believing in these supernatural, strange, and chaotic things?
Memories rapidly surfaced in Shi Jinlan’s mind: the divination blocks2 cast onto the ground, one flat, one round.
Over these past few years, she had developed the island and built temples. Whenever she stood in Ah Qing and Ling Ji’s ancestral hall, she would remember that day when she and Chi Qian had come here, asking the immortals if they approved of them playing each other’s roles.
They had kowtowed in gratitude together.
But she hadn’t been sincere back then.
Shi Jinlan always wondered: if she had been a little more sincere back then, and later begged the two immortals to bless Chi Qian so she could survive her ordeal and come back from the dead, would the outcome have been different?
“…”
Silently, Shi Jinlan let out a sigh.
She looked at herself in the mirror. The reflection in the background hadn’t moved for a long time, and Chi Qian was taking far too long to come out.
Feeling puzzled, Shi Jinlan walked over to Chi Qian’s stall to take a look. The door was already open, and there was no one inside.
Whether influenced by the movie from just now or not, Shi Jinlan suddenly felt her hands go a little cold.
Logic told her Chi Qian had probably come out long ago and was waiting for her outside, yet her emotions kept playing back the scenes from the horror movie in her mind.
The Master did not speak of extraordinary things, feats of strength, disorder, and spiritual beings.3
Shi Jinlan silently recited the quote in her heart, then went out to look for Chi Qian. “Ah Qian?”
She walked down the long, silent corridor, devoid of any echoes. Her figure was cast monotonously against the wall by the decorations, making her feel uneasy.
“Ah…”
Then, as Shi Jinlan feigned composure and continued forward, she suddenly felt a force pull at her arm, yanking her straight “into the wall.”
Scattered dust danced in the dim light, and the green glow of the emergency stairwell squeezed into Shi Jinlan’s field of vision.
Amidst the dusty smell, a familiar, faint fragrance drifted out.
Shi Jinlan looked up and saw the shadow covering her body; Chi Qian was looking down at her, pinning her against the wall.
A brimming slyness shone in those round, almond-shaped eyes. The spray of her breath trailed down Shi Jinlan’s still-heaving neck, trembling and scorching hot.
Chi Qian pressed a teasing fingertip against Shi Jinlan’s wrist bone and gave her an ambiguous smile. “Miss Shi, since you’re so easily scared, you shouldn’t try to copy others and watch horror movies, hm?”
The author has something to say:
Pigeon: Two childish fools OvO
Lanlan, Ah Yuan: I am not!
Footnotes
- A Chinese idiom (fú dà mìng dà) meaning to have immense luck and survive great danger.
- A reference to jiǎobēi (moon blocks), wooden divination tools used in traditional Chinese folk religion. They are thrown on the ground to seek divine guidance. One flat side up and one round side up indicates a 'yes' or divine approval.
- A famous quote from the 'Analects of Confucius' (Lúnyǔ). It means that Confucius refused to discuss bizarre phenomena, supernatural occurrences, feats of strength, or rebellious disorders, preferring to focus on practical human affairs and moral virtues.
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