So I Had No Choice But to Stop Being the White Moonlight – Chapter 125
by Little PandaI’m Not Going to Be the White Moonlight
This is the bond written into our plotline, one that even the System cannot erase
People came and went around them. The scent of blood drifted on the stirred air.
Everyone’s attention was fixed on the newborn life and the mother. The celebratory atmosphere pushed Shi Jinlan’s shock into the corner.
Chi Qian felt the sheer strength of Shi Jinlan’s tight embrace. Her heart pressed against Shi Jinlan’s chest, beating madly.
She hadn’t expected Shi Jinlan to hold her this forcefully. After all, she was covered in quite a bit of blood; compared to Shi Jinlan’s immaculate appearance, she was not someone you’d want to be pressed against.
Besides, Chi Qian felt there was no need for Shi Jinlan to be this anxious over her. It hadn’t actually been that dangerous.
Not long after she had started the delivery, the doctors from the Maternity and Child Healthcare Hospital had arrived.
The newborn’s damp black hair had been thick and sticky. As she assisted from the sidelines, she found life to be both tenacious and miraculous.
So, Chi Qian had wanted to tell Shi Jinlan that she was fine, and that she was happy to have been able to help someone.
But the moment her hand landed on Shi Jinlan’s back, she suddenly felt the turbulent emotions hiding beneath Shi Jinlan’s calm facade.
She didn’t know when the flames representing those emotions had reappeared in her sight. Right now, they were no longer a chaotic black. The beautiful white flames seemed like sunlight melting over Shi Jinlan—golden and burning intensely, yet shivering faintly in this very moment.
Chi Qian suddenly realized that Shi Jinlan wasn’t just worried about her.
She must have heard something wrong. Given how chaotic the scene was, Shi Jinlan likely thought something had happened to Chi Qian.
The flashes of white coats around them overlapped in Chi Qian’s mind. Through Shi Jinlan’s memories, she saw the doctors and nurses who had surrounded her back when she fell off the cliff.
The emotional flames seemed to extend from this very memory, twining upward along Chi Qian’s fingers.
Unhurried and intimately entwined, every wisp deposited Shi Jinlan’s emotions into her palm before dissipating into the sky—painful, suppressed, and grieving.
Chi Qian’s heart sank.
How could she not feel Shi Jinlan’s pain? The agony that had been sealed within her memories was now making a belated, slow cut across her heart.
“It won’t happen again,” Chi Qian said, allowing Shi Jinlan to hold her. The vibration of her voice rested right against Shi Jinlan’s ear, her breathing incredibly real.
Even though they were of similar build, Chi Qian felt as if her hands could wrap around Shi Jinlan entirely.
Her hand on Shi Jinlan’s back stroked gently, cradling her in her palm. Learning from her gentleness, Chi Qian lightly nuzzled against Shi Jinlan’s neck. “I will never leave you again, Ah Lan.”
The flames burned through Shi Jinlan’s emotions, drifting ethereally into the sky and growing thinner around Shi Jinlan’s body.
It was as if they were bidding Chi Qian farewell, knowing that even without their existence, Chi Qian would be able to instantly understand Shi Jinlan’s thoughts from now on.
Thus, there was no longer any need for them to exist.
Click.
Amidst the bustling, noisy environment, the sound of a camera shutter went unnoticed by the crowd.
Song Tang secretly held up her phone, taking a picture of the two embracing unreservedly in the middle of the people.
She loved this image of them relying on each other. The ordinary white lights of the home goods store seemed to cast a layer of mist over them. No matter the bustling crowd around them, they held each other amidst the birth of a new life, a scene brimming with the aura of salvation and renewal.
But then again, speaking of renewal, did it not also apply to them?
Song Tang was admiring the picture on her screen, completely oblivious to the shadow falling over her shoulder.
“Taking candid shots?”
Suddenly, a soft question dropped near her shoulder.
Song Tang whipped her head around, only to see Yuan Ming standing behind her at some unknown point.
“Ah Yuan.” Song Tang looked at Yuan Ming in surprise, then promptly sent the photo to their group chat. “I am not. This is just having an eye for capturing the moment.”
“You took a very nice picture.” Yuan Ming smiled, looking at the photo shared in the group and praising her.
Song Tang offered Yuan Ming a cheeky laugh, pleased by her sudden appearance. She then glanced back at the scene ahead, which was gradually being cleaned up, and asked thoughtfully, “Did you have a hand in this?”
“A matter of probability,” Yuan Ming said lightly, her gaze drifting toward Shi Jinlan.
Because of her frantic urgency earlier, Shi Jinlan hadn’t realized the discrepancy.
Why had her sensory probe of Chi Qian only picked up the presence of blood—such a highly suggestive perception—while completely failing to display the surrounding environment?
Someone had clearly intended to orchestrate such a coincidence.
Just to scare her a little.
Yuan Ming had succeeded, but with an incident like this, their four-person shopping trip was officially ruined.
Even though the mall had any clothes they could possibly need, Shi Jinlan still wanted to take Chi Qian back home for a bath.
Just as the group was about to walk out, the mall manager came rushing over.
It couldn’t be said that they were slow; after all, it took some time for the news to be relayed up the chain of command.
But late was late. Still, the lead manager managed to spot Shi Jinlan preparing to leave in a single glance. He frantically shoved his way through the crowd and hurried toward her. “President Shi, w-what brings you here?”
Shi Jinlan had no desire to broadcast her visit to the mall. She spared him a glance and said flatly, “Just looking around.”
The manager failed to catch Shi Jinlan’s drift. He continued to block her path, reporting with trepidation, “Please rest assured, even though this was an unforeseen emergency, our mall has contingency plans in place. I will absolutely ensure it is handled properly.”
“En.” Shi Jinlan nodded, coming to a halt. “This particular store had a good response time. They showed excellent compassion.”
“Yes, yes, this is certainly a good deed worth promoting. I will definitely report it to headquarters.” The manager was quick on the uptake; with just one sentence from Shi Jinlan, his mind went straight to commendations.
It was also at this moment that he finally realized Shi Jinlan was speckled with blood and clearly trying to leave.
No longer acting as a roadblock, he respectfully stepped out of her way and said, “President Shi, the direct elevator is closest this way.”
Despite the manager’s prompt, Shi Jinlan showed no intention of leaving just yet.
With her hand tucked in her pocket, she rubbed her phone with her thumb and shifted her gaze to Song Tang, who was standing beside Chi Qian. “This lady is interested in high chairs.”
The manager was nothing if not tactful. He immediately turned to introduce it to Song Tang. “The Renaître store on the first floor of our mall is an old French brand. Everything inside is pure custom, handcrafted work. Would you care to take a look with us?”
Song Tang’s eyes practically sparkled at the name. “You actually have a Renaître here?”
“In the entire country, only our mall can host a brand of such massive volume,” the manager introduced with a smile, a hint of pride in his voice.
“Then I definitely have to take a look.” How could Song Tang refuse such a good thing? It was just that she couldn’t afford it…
“You can buy it, too,” Shi Jinlan’s voice carried past Chi Qian and fell into Song Tang’s ears.
Song Tang understood instantly, her face breaking into a radiant smile. “Then I’ll have to thank President Shi very much.”
“Don’t mention it.” Seeing Song Tang’s overjoyed expression, Shi Jinlan gave a slight nod and took Chi Qian’s hand. “Then I will take Ah Qian away first.”
“Take her, take her.” Now that she had her high chair, Song Tang decisively waved her off, letting Shi Jinlan leave with Chi Qian.
Song Tang felt as if she had struck pure gold. Just by taking one photo, she got Shi Jinlan to gift her such an expensive chair.
From this moment on, she decided she would take plenty more divine photos of Chi Qian and Shi Jinlan for her—or even solo shots of Chi Qian.
She was Chi Qian’s hardcore solo-stan1!
Their Qianqian was the absolute best in the universe!
As Song Tang excitedly fantasized about getting filthy rich off Shi Jinlan by taking pictures of Chi Qian, Yuan Ming’s faint voice drifted over.
“Ah Song, I’ll get jealous if you think like that.”
“Hehe.” Song Tang shot Yuan Ming an embarrassed look and linked her arm through Yuan Ming’s without a second thought. “Ah Yuan is the super-invincible, absolute best in the universe!”
Sometimes, Yuan Ming couldn’t help but wonder how Song Tang could be so full of vitality.
She was even more passionate than Chi Qian. Her entire being was incredibly free-spirited—just like blurting out such clingy, affectionate words right now. Even her red hair smelled of freedom.
“En, I know,” Yuan Ming replied, feeling her cheeks heat up slightly as she turned her face toward the cold draft.
The incandescent lights hit the mirrors inside the elevator, reflecting brightly throughout the space.
Despite the mild light, Chi Qian felt the atmosphere inside the elevator car was exceptionally oppressive. Shi Jinlan stood in the center of the people with her in tow. Her expression was calm, but a distinct sense of aloofness had seeped into her deep eyes.
The coldness condensed into icicles, revealing a glacier rising from a vast ocean.
This was the first time Chi Qian had seen Shi Jinlan interacting with her subordinates from such a close distance. Her expression and demeanor were entirely different from how she was when they were together, or even how she interacted with Madam Housekeeper and the other staff.
That crushing, heavy sense of distance seemed to carve a bottomless chasm between her and everyone else aside from Chi Qian.
It left people with absolutely no courage to cross it, let alone overstep their bounds.
The mall manager remained respectful the entire way, escorting Shi Jinlan and Chi Qian down to the underground parking lot.
Chi Qian had initially been anxious. She and Shi Jinlan had arrived in Ningcheng City by ‘drawing a circle’—how were they supposed to get back? Yet, from afar, bathed in the dim but clear light of the corner, she saw that familiar Maybach.
Chi Qian had forgotten. Her wife was now not only a bigshot in this world but also a bigshot of the System.
Drawing a circle and altering logic to make a car appear in an underground parking lot were equally effortless tasks.
Still, as Chi Qian eyed the pure black behemoth before her, the curiosity in her eyes could not be concealed.
Under the respectful gaze of their send-off, Chi Qian got into the car. Her very first sentence to the driver was: “You’ve been waiting for a long time, haven’t you?”
“It’s alright,” the driver replied evenly, acting exactly as if his assigned task today had been to drive Shi Jinlan and Chi Qian to the mall all along.
Chi Qian’s eyes still held a novelty that couldn’t quite be explained to outsiders. A moment later, a privacy partition rose before her.
The opaque black partition blocked Chi Qian’s line of sight, prompting her to shift her gaze back to Shi Jinlan.
“President Shi, how very grand of you,” Chi Qian teased, leaning close to Shi Jinlan.
“How was the experience?” Shi Jinlan pinched her hand, looking at Chi Qian’s entirely hopeless display as she asked in return.
“It was alright.” Thinking back on the recent events and the currently moving car, Chi Qian tilted her body and leaned against Shi Jinlan’s shoulder.
She didn’t know where she had learned it from, but she rubbed her cheek against Shi Jinlan’s shoulder. Her almond eyes slanted slightly upward, looking exactly like the seductive favorite bewitching the ruler2—the big boss’s lover. “If I could actually play the fox exploiting the tiger’s might3 just once, it would be even better.”
“At the end of the month,” Shi Jinlan offered lightly, perfectly playing the role of an indulgent ruler4. “I have a meeting in S City. I’ll take you along.”
Hearing this, Chi Qian sat up slightly.
She was the type to have the heart of a thief but not the guts. Acting like a bewitching seductress was just all talk for her. “For something that important, it’s best not to let me interfere.”
“Then what should I use to satisfy your curiosity?” Shi Jinlan, however, didn’t seem to have broken character from the indulgent ruler yet. As she asked, her hand slid around to the small of Chi Qian’s back.
She gently stroked and rubbed a crease in the fabric. A jolt of electricity connected along Chi Qian’s waist and back, making her body stiffen.
She didn’t know if she had been bewitched, but following Shi Jinlan’s movement, she rested her arm on her shoulder, drawing even closer. “Actually, there’s something I’ve been really curious about. Perhaps Ah Lan could satisfy me on that.”
“What is it?” Shi Jinlan remained unperturbed despite having her in her lap, supporting Chi Qian’s waist.
“How did you find me?” Chi Qian asked earnestly.
She had wanted to ask this question ever since the morning, when Song Tang had recounted to her the process of Shi Jinlan and Yuan Ming searching for her.
Shi Jinlan didn’t answer directly. Instead, she asked Chi Qian, “Do you remember that you still owe me a wish?”
Hearing that sentence, Chi Qian vaguely remembered something of the sort. Her attention immediately focused more sharply on her earlier question, finding it hard to believe. “Don’t tell me you used that wish?”
The truth was indeed that hard to believe.
Looking at Chi Qian’s astonished eyes, Shi Jinlan curled her lips into a smile. “Don’t underestimate a promise.”
She casually lifted her wrist, brushing past Chi Qian’s hair. Her warm breath fell lightly against Chi Qian’s neck. “This is the bond written into our plotline, one that even the System cannot erase. Did you know that?”
The words ‘cannot erase’ were branded deeply into Chi Qian’s heart along with Shi Jinlan’s breath.
She could almost imagine how frantically Shi Jinlan had searched for her, and how thrilled she must have been when she discovered this bond.
She would have smiled.
Her calm face would have revealed a smile that made Thirteen think the world was going to end.
But the world wouldn’t end.
Instead, it would be made complete.
“I know now,” Chi Qian nodded, speaking to Shi Jinlan with utmost sincerity.
After that response, Shi Jinlan stared at Chi Qian’s features for a while.
It wasn’t until Chi Qian felt she had been stared at for far too long, her throat just bobbing, that she leaned in and pressed a solemn, reverent kiss to her lips.
The author has something to say:
Xiao Ge5 has a what-if extra in mind where Lazy Lanlan abuses her power for personal gain while taking over as the temporary Main System for Xiao Ming, taking Qianqian on a one-day tour of a xianxia6 world—only for it to end up with a certain newbie shimei7 surnamed Chi turning into a rabbit and being unable to change back. I wonder if everyone wants to read it.
A certain newbie shimei surnamed Chi: I have no idea. Da Shijie8 was already like this when I got here (puppy-dog innocent eyes).
Lazy Lanlan: Lets out sounds of rabbit protest.
Footnotes
- An internet slang term (tiěxuè dāntuī) derived from idol culture. 'Tie xue' (iron-blooded/hardcore) and 'dan tui' (solo-stan) combine to mean an extremely loyal fan entirely devoted to a single person.
- A Chinese idiom (húmèi huò zhǔ) meaning a fox-like seductress who bewitches the ruler, often leading to the kingdom's downfall. Chi Qian is playfully casting herself as the stereotypical femme fatale to Shi Jinlan's emperor.
- A Chinese idiom (hú jiǎ hǔ wēi) meaning a fox who exploits a tiger's might to intimidate others, referring to someone who throws around their powerful backer's weight.
- A historical term (hūnjūn) referring to an incompetent or self-indulgent ruler who neglects state affairs, often in favor of romantic or hedonistic pursuits.
- The author's nickname for themselves (Xiǎo Gē), literally meaning 'Little Pigeon'. In Chinese internet culture, 'pigeon' is slang for someone who frequently delays or flakes on commitments, often used playfully by authors regarding their update schedules.
- A Chinese fantasy genre (xiānxiá) featuring magic, immortals, and martial arts cultivation based on Taoist mythology.
- A martial arts or cultivation sect term (shīmèi) for a junior female disciple of the same master or sect.
- A martial arts or cultivation sect term (dà shījiě) for the eldest or most senior female disciple.
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