So I Had No Choice But to Stop Being the White Moonlight – Chapter 123
by Little PandaI’m Not Going to Be the White Moonlight
“No rush, let’s kiss a little longer.”
A dim ray of light illuminated the rarely used emergency stairwell, matching the sly gleam in Chi Qian’s eyes.
Caught completely off guard, Shi Jinlan had never imagined the day would come when Chi Qian would deliberately scare her.
Pinned against the wall by Chi Qian, Shi Jinlan felt the icy surface press against her back, contrasting sharply with the warm palm brushing against her waist. Her eyes revealed an undisguised look of stunned disbelief.
The dim environment blurred their overlapping silhouettes. Chi Qian gazed at Shi Jinlan’s current expression with sly, unbridled amusement.
They were mere inches apart. Their warm breaths mingled, layering an indescribable lustful aura in the air.
Shi Jinlan was entirely at Chi Qian’s mercy, fully bearing the brunt of her mischievousness.
However, her reaction speed was faster than Chi Qian had anticipated. Gripping the hand of the woman in front of her, she quickly steadied her nerves.
“Was that on purpose?” Shi Jinlan asked, maintaining the intimate distance Chi Qian had closed between them. Her thin lips parted slightly; just a fraction closer, and they would brush against Chi Qian’s.
Unwilling to back down, Chi Qian freely admitted it. “Yep.”
Then, she leaned in even closer, curling a finger in a beautiful arc to press gently against Shi Jinlan’s lips. “I never would have guessed you were such a scaredy-cat.”
“Ghosts and spirits—didn’t you say you didn’t believe in them?”
Chi Qian was genuinely puzzled, asking the question half in teasing and half in earnest.
Shi Jinlan merely looked at her, her gaze softening as it traced the laughter at the corners of Chi Qian’s eyes. After a long pause, she answered in a steady voice. “I believe in them now.”
“Why?” Chi Qian asked, curious.
She had heard rumors before; supposedly, the more successful a businessperson became, the more they believed in the supernatural.
When the wealth in one’s hands grew too vast, they feared losing it, feared making mistakes, or feared the guilt festering in their own hearts.
But Chi Qian didn’t think that kind of logic applied to Shi Jinlan.
She didn’t even believe in the System and had dared to dismantle it with her own hands. Would she really believe in ghosts and gods?
So.
Why?
“You.”
Amidst Chi Qian’s confusion, a resolute word echoed in her ear.
She looked up at Shi Jinlan again. The woman was staring back at her, her calm pupils profoundly heavy with emotion—complex yet entirely clear. In the dim light, that pure, dark gaze shone brilliantly.
Their overlapped palms met with no barrier between them, fingers intertwined, feeling each other’s warmth.
Chi Qian’s gaze faltered. In her daze, a layer of twilight flashed through her mind.
Weary birds returned to their nests, their wings sweeping across a pale, bleak sky.
Three years ago, the tree in front of the ancestral hall hadn’t yet taken on its aged appearance. Its lush, green canopy cast shadows over the doorway, shielding the courtyard from the twilight.
Like rain striking plantain leaves, a sudden, heavy patter of rain smashed into Chi Qian’s heart.
She looked past the tree’s shadow outside the ancestral hall. Kneeling beneath the statues of Ah Qing and Ling Ji was a woman, her tall, slender figure ramrod straight, her expression profoundly solemn.
A tall, thick prayer cushion supported her knees, yet it seemed to serve no purpose. The skin stretched tightly over her kneecaps was flushed a violent red; any more pressure, and it would tear and bleed.
The divination blocks1 were cast from clasped hands, striking the floor with a crisp clatter.
The crescent-shaped red wood looked like two streaks of blood carved into Shi Jinlan’s vision, telling her in bright crimson that the gods would not answer her prayers.
Once.
Twice.
…
Just standing there watching, Chi Qian saw Shi Jinlan throw and retrieve them no less than five times.
Her gaunt shadow was stretched long by the setting sun—like a razor-thin blade, impossibly sharp, yet fragile enough to snap at any moment.
The dimming light crept in slowly from behind her, as if trying to swallow her whole.
She only wanted to pray to the hall full of gods and spirits to bring her lover back, but the darkness was determined to drag her down into a bottomless abyss.
Only then did Chi Qian finally understand why Shi Jinlan would put her faith in the supernatural.
A massive, deafening roar like a train echoed through her world. Steaming mist surged into the heavens, crushing the sky beneath a blanket of heavy clouds.
The heavy clouds were saturated with water; a storm was about to break.
Chi Qian’s eyes instantly reddened. She squeezed Shi Jinlan’s fingers, her lips trembling slightly as if she had thousands of words she wanted to say.
In the end, they all melted into a single kiss.
She leaned forward and pressed her lips against Shi Jinlan’s.
In the dim light, a soft whimper escaped.
Chi Qian’s movement was sudden. Caught unprepared, Shi Jinlan took in her warmth directly.
This seemingly fierce invasion wasn’t chaotic at all. Chi Qian’s tongue familiarly swept across Shi Jinlan’s teeth, commanding yet gentle.
These two seemingly contradictory sensations blended in Shi Jinlan’s mouth, leaving her lost and deeply enamored. The oxygen was squeezed from her mouth bit by bit, sweeping her breath away along with the damp moisture.
It left behind nothing but the taste of Chi Qian.
It made it impossible to think straight.
Her knees weakened, as if they could no longer support the weight of her body.
Gripping Shi Jinlan’s waist, Chi Qian flawlessly slid her own leg forward to support her, giving Shi Jinlan an anchor point so that even her heart leaned entirely onto Chi Qian.
It was like her soul was being siphoned away.
With her back pressed against the freezing wall behind her, Shi Jinlan’s rationality wasn’t enough to rein in her uncontrollable emotions.
“Ugh, I still feel a chill down my spine. I don’t think I’ll be able to sleep tonight.”
“Then let’s sleep together tonight.”
“Okay, okay!”
…
Rationality couldn’t hold Shi Jinlan back, but the voices drifting in from the outside instantly snapped her back to reality.
A wave of conversation suddenly echoed from the corridor outside the door, accompanied by overlapping footsteps. Judging by the time, the movie they had just been watching had finished.
Both of their movements paused in unison.
Resting her forehead against Shi Jinlan’s, Chi Qian pulled back just an inch. “It’s over.”
“Going back to get our things?” Shi Jinlan asked reluctantly, her palm resting flat against Chi Qian’s back. The cotton-linen fabric was highly breathable, effortlessly neutralizing a flush of damp heat.
Chi Qian wasn’t too keen on leaving either. She figured Song Tang would definitely grab their things for them, and the abruptly halted kiss only left her craving more intimacy.
“Hey, where do you think that stinky Ah Qian went? Didn’t she say she was going to the bathroom? How come I don’t see her anywhere?”
“Maybe she went to a different bathroom.”
“What on earth did she pack in this bag? It’s as heavy as a brick.”
…
Speak of the devil2; before Chi Qian could even open her mouth, Song Tang and Yuan Ming’s voices rang out from the other side of the door.
Two shadows fell across the narrow pane of glass on the emergency exit door. From a distance, Chi Qian could see a familiar figure about to walk past.
“Hmph, if you ask me, she got scared and didn’t dare watch anymore, so she dragged President Shi away.” Song Tang let out two snorting laughs, grabbing a huge handful of popcorn from Chi Qian’s bucket and shoving it into her mouth as she spoke.
“Ah Qian is very brave.” Yuan Ming, who was carrying both of their bags for Song Tang, didn’t agree.
“Well, it couldn’t have been President Shi who was scared, right?” Song Tang mused, following her own line of logic. The idea seemed unimaginable, yet oddly, it felt somewhat plausible.
The scent of butter filled Song Tang’s mouth, reminding her of her own massive bucket of popcorn that had spilled onto the floor before she could finish it. “Honestly, you two… Sigh, I just feel sorry for my popcorn.”
“I’ll buy you a new one to make up for it when we get back,” Yuan Ming offered.
“Two buckets.” Song Tang held up a finger.
Yuan Ming reached over with utmost gentleness, wrapping her hand around Song Tang’s extended finger to form a fist. “Ten buckets.”
“Ah Yuan, you’re the best.” Song Tang was more than satisfied with this outcome. Her fisted hand familiarly hooked through Yuan Ming’s arm, and she immediately planted a kiss on the other woman’s cheek.
A warm, soft, and moist pair of lips brushed past her cheek, and Yuan Ming’s face visibly flushed bright red.
She had just stepped in front of the emergency exit door when her footsteps came to an abrupt halt. A wave of heat surged from an unknown place, threatening to engulf her like an erupting volcano.
“There are people around,” Yuan Ming chided lightly, glancing at the passersby as she gave Song Tang a gentle swat.
“Oh, please, no one is paying attention to you.” Song Tang brushed off the concern, brazenly reaching up to pinch Yuan Ming’s cheek.
This was almost more fatal than when they had nearly pushed the door open and caught them red-handed that morning.
Hiding behind the door, Chi Qian watched the interacting figures through the glass pane, completely unable to stop the corners of her mouth from turning upward.
This blatant, unhidden affection that Song Tang displayed was exactly what Yuan Ming needed.
During her time as the Main System, she had constantly been stripped of things. No one had ever given her anything that was solely hers; instead, they had all just lectured her to be mindful of her status as the future Main System.
Only Song Tang was different.
She just acted naturally, pulling Yuan Ming along so that she could actually live like a ‘person’.
Thinking of this, Chi Qian’s thoughts naturally drifted back to Shi Jinlan.
She pulled back her peeking gaze and turned to look at Shi Jinlan, teasing her softly. “Miss Shi, it seems you’ve been exposed after all.”
“Mhm.” Hearing this, Shi Jinlan nodded in absolute deadpan earnestness.
She seemed to be pondering something; there was an unspoken message hidden in the look she gave Chi Qian.
Bzzz, bzzz, bzzz…
At an exceptionally inopportune moment, the phone in Chi Qian’s pocket suddenly vibrated.
Afraid that the two people outside the door would hear it, Chi Qian hurriedly yanked the phone out of her pocket.
The glow of the phone screen was the only clear light in the dim stairwell. She glanced down—it was a call from Song Tang.
Chi Qian, who had just been leaning fearlessly against the door to peek outside, suddenly grew anxious.
The four of them were standing entirely too close together, separated only by a single door that could be pushed open at any second.
If Song Tang discovered that she and Shi Jinlan were making out in the emergency stairwell, heaven knew how relentlessly the woman would tease her!
Feeling a spike of panic, Chi Qian patted Shi Jinlan’s hand. “Let’s go out. Song Tang is looking for—mmph…“
Before she could finish speaking through her parted lips, a soft warmth intruded.
Familiar and sly, Shi Jinlan kissed her way past Chi Qian’s lips. The dust-moted air grew heavy with moisture as Shi Jinlan continuously laid claim to her mouth.
“No rush, let’s kiss a little longer,” Shi Jinlan murmured, gently nuzzling against Chi Qian’s lips. Her gaze remained locked on Chi Qian’s face, deep and hazy.
Hearing this, a hundred and twenty percent of Chi Qian’s alarm bells went off.
She strained her ears to distinguish the footsteps outside, worried that someone might walk in, yet the innate thirst for adventure in her bones was already stirring. She truly did want to sink further into this with Shi Jinlan.
The door remained shut. The silhouettes outside seemed to have walked further away, their outlines no longer visible.
Shi Jinlan devoured Chi Qian bite by bite. An electric current swept over the tip of her tongue, and a rustling numbness climbed up to her heart, forcing her to close her eyes.
It’s fine.
Song Tang won’t find out.
Clinging to that stroke of wishful thinking, Chi Qian gripped the phone tightly in her hand.
The vibration had only just stopped before it immediately started buzzing again.
Part of Chi Qian felt she really needed to stop and answer the call—if only to keep Song Tang from waiting around for her.
Yet the other part couldn’t bear to pull away from Shi Jinlan’s kiss. She didn’t want to stop like this…
“Did you hear that noise?”
A voice suddenly drifted through the door, and the retreating footsteps abruptly began drawing closer again.
In an instant, Chi Qian recognized Song Tang’s distinctive tone. A shadow fell over the glass pane on the door.
As she spoke, a hand moved infinitely closer, looking as if it were about to push the door open. “Ah Qian, are you in there?”
The author has something to say:
Qianqian: It’s not me, I’m not here QAQ
Footnotes
- Also known as 'jiāobēi' or moon blocks. These are crescent-shaped wooden blocks used in traditional Chinese divination at temples and ancestral shrines to seek answers from the gods. They are cast onto the floor, and their landing position—flat side up or down—determines the answer.
- Literally 'speak of Cao Cao and Cao Cao arrives' (shuō Cáo Cáo, Cáo Cāo dào). A Chinese idiom equivalent to the English phrase 'speak of the devil.' Cao Cao was a famous warlord from the Three Kingdoms period.
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