So I Had No Choice But to Stop Being the White Moonlight – Chapter 129
by Little PandaLanlan and Qianqian’s Honeymoon Trip
France
I’ll teach you.
A few shadows stretched across the vast, empty museum hall, the deep brown tones of the space lending it a profound quiet.
Occasions like this tended to make one feel constrained, as if the rules of the place left no room for jokes.
Chi Qian was currently shrouded in an awkwardness of her own making. Then, a cool, clean scent wrapped in gentleness drew near.
Though they weren’t standing that close, the distance wasn’t great enough to obstruct her view.
In her peripheral vision, Chi Qian saw many blonde-haired, blue-eyed foreigners. The familiar sound of her mother tongue reached her ears, making her feel self-conscious and surprised, but more than anything, it made the corners of her lips lift.
If people could understand what she said, it wouldn’t be awkward. It would be the feeling she had wanted to express from the start.
Her panic and embarrassment were quelled. Chi Qian’s heart was no longer pounding in disarray.
It still thudded against her ribs, but not from chaos—from a flutter of emotion.
It didn’t matter whether other people understood her reference.
What mattered was that Shi Jinlan understood.
Right. How could she not know?
When Ayanami Rei1 dissolved into a pool of orange liquid, she had sat in the small home theater, crying her eyes out. When she ran out of tissues, it was this very person who had wiped away her tears.
And the song she had just sung had been on a loop on her phone for a very long time.
The memories came rushing back, overlapping with the warmth now brushing past her ear, and her cheeks grew hot.
Chi Qian’s peripheral vision inevitably included Louis and his group not far away.
Seeing Shi Jinlan standing so close to her—intimately so, from certain angles—she patted her hand and gestured with her eyes. “There are a lot of people.”
Shi Jinlan was unconcerned.
But she knew Chi Qian cared, so she turned to Louis. “Apologies, but I’d like to look around alone with my wife for a bit.”
An expression of understanding immediately appeared on Louis’s face. He turned to the several Louvre staff members beside him. “I just saw that the café by the entrance is having its soft opening. Shall we go and try it?”
“Of course.” Having navigated the professional world to reach their current positions, they were all sharp enough to read the room. They readily agreed.
A flurry of footsteps echoed through the silent hall. The shadows withdrew, and sunlight streamed evenly through the windows, laying itself bare across the viewing gallery. The entire hall seemed even more vast.
“The entire Louvre is yours now,” Shi Jinlan said, holding Chi Qian’s hand and gently squeezing her fingertips.
As if a restraint had been lifted, Chi Qian instantly felt much more at ease.
She swung Shi Jinlan’s arm, her slightly upturned eyes shimmering with a golden light, full of curiosity for this place. “Then I’m going to have a good look around.”
Whether it was to allow for better viewing of the collection during peak hours or simply to accommodate the large flow of tourists, there were wide gaps between each work of art.
But at this moment, the museum was closed. There were only two people in the enormous hall. It was vast, but not lonely.
The clack-clack of their footsteps echoed, approaching and receding like birds circling within the hall.
Chi Qian thought she must have been a crow in her past life, so deep was her love for shiny things.
After a brief appreciation of the museum’s crown jewel, the Mona Lisa’s smile, her steps paused for longer than before, finally coming to a halt at the gemstone exhibition in another hall.
Crowns, scepters, fans encrusted with jewels.
Chi Qian felt not a shred of greed for the power these items symbolized. The light in her eyes was purely the covetousness of a crow spotting something glittery.
Gazing at the jewels, Chi Qian’s steps finally stopped before a music box in the center of the hall.
Transparent glass made it appear as if it were suspended in mid-air. It was impossible to tell if it was made of silver, platinum, or some priceless type of seashell. The lustrous carvings, full of filigree and openwork, refracted countless points of light. It was exquisitely delicate.
“I wonder if it can still play music,” Chi Qian said, curiously reading the description below. She marveled that it was already a century old and, at the same time, felt a sense of pity for it. “Something this beautiful should be where it belongs, singing a song for its owner.”
As Chi Qian expressed her regret, Shi Jinlan’s voice sounded. “Want to hear it?”
“Can you do that?” Chi Qian looked up and asked, not with doubt, but with eager anticipation.
And Shi Jinlan would not disappoint her. “It’s simple.”
As she spoke, she effortlessly bypassed the security system.
The glass barrier posed no obstacle to her. Her slender, pale fingers had only just touched the glass when they passed right through it.
There was an air of a leisurely stroll in Shi Jinlan’s movements.
Her long fingers brushed over the body of the music box. Then, unhurriedly, as if plucking something from a pocket2, she lifted the music box into her palm and brought it out for Chi Qian.
Even though she knew Shi Jinlan was capable of this, Chi Qian couldn’t help but applaud at her casual display of power.
Shi Jinlan, however, remained nonchalant. She presented the treasure to Chi Qian with both hands. “I told you, the entire Louvre is yours.”
Without the protection of the glass barrier, a shadow fell upon the magnificent music box.
The black shadow, contrasted against the impeccably maintained work of art, made its colors seem even richer.
Looking at the treasure Shi Jinlan was offering her, Chi Qian felt that if Shi Jinlan was a dragon hoarding wealth, then she was the crow perched on the dragon’s head.
She was a natural at borrowing the tiger’s might3.
“Do you want to hear the music inside?” Shi Jinlan invited.
“Didn’t the sign say it couldn’t be repaired?” This was the source of Chi Qian’s regret.
“Don’t forget who I am.” Shi Jinlan smiled faintly and placed the music box on a pedestal.
It was unclear what she adjusted, or if she had simply reversed the flow of time for the music box itself.
The intricate mechanism that had slumbered within it came to life. Without needing to be wound, a melody began to play.
Metal pins plucked at the musical comb long embedded in the box’s body, producing a crisp and clean sound.
Note by note, little by little, it was like the light tap of a young woman’s heels on porcelain tiles as they held hands, fingers intertwined, and secretly embraced on a bright day or night.
The surrounding light was soft. No sunlight reached this part of the hall, making it feel quite dim, as if the world was empty of people.
There was only this melody, traveling through time and space, telling the stories it had witnessed.
“My beautiful lady, would you care to dance with me?” The music continued as Shi Jinlan extended a hand to Chi Qian.
Those slender fingers were held out before her, as delicate as freshly peeled spring onions.
Her heart leaped at the invitation, but before placing her hand in Shi Jinlan’s, she gave her a warning. “Full disclosure, I don’t know how to dance.”
“I’ll teach you,” Shi Jinlan said, unconcerned, and took Chi Qian’s hesitating hand.
The gentle music wrote a story, and it also served as a guiding rhythm.
With Shi Jinlan’s arm around her waist, Chi Qian followed her steps, moving slowly with the music.
She was a complete novice, and her steps weren’t very graceful at first.
She was flustered at times, but thankfully, she made no mistakes, nor did she step on Shi Jinlan’s feet.
After a while, Chi Qian was still looking down, watching Shi Jinlan’s feet. For every step Shi Jinlan took, she took one.
The lilting music was like a bridge. Chi Qian felt she wasn’t dancing with Shi Jinlan, but chasing after her, trying to stand shoulder-to-shoulder with her.
But chasing like this wasn’t enough.
She had to take the initiative herself.
So Chi Qian slowly freed her steps. She stopped looking down at Shi Jinlan’s feet and instead lifted her head to gaze into her eyes.
The surrounding jewels changed colors as they moved, but Shi Jinlan’s pupils, in Chi Qian’s eyes, were always just as dark and deep.
Those deep pupils were reflected in Chi Qian’s, and her own, once timid, were reflected in Shi Jinlan’s.
The music echoed in the empty hall. They never spoke, simply holding each other’s gaze, their eyes and feet moving in unison.
The air swirled through their hair, lingering intimately with their shared glance before gently blowing elsewhere.
Though it was only an exchange of looks, it felt like a cryptic, indiscernible kiss.
As the music slowly built to a crescendo, Shi Jinlan raised the arm that was holding Chi Qian’s hand.
Chi Qian understood this cue as if she were a natural4. She effortlessly released her hand from Shi Jinlan’s grasp and, on the tips of her toes, spun once under her palm.
In that instant, light and shadow flickered across her vision. Her gaze swept past the jewels she so coveted, but in the end, she chose Shi Jinlan’s eyes watching her.
When she had first received this mission, she never would have imagined that those dark, deep eyes, which had always made her feel like she was about to be devoured, could also be so full of affection.
And this spontaneous dance was a future that the her from her past life would have only dared to believe in after dreaming of it several times.
The spin complete, Shi Jinlan took her hand and drew her back to where they started.
The reality of that firm grip in her palm and against her chest made Chi Qian feel that the beauty of it all was exceptionally worthwhile.
After some time, Chi Qian looked at her hand resting on Shi Jinlan’s shoulder and mused, “I’m dancing the woman’s part, aren’t I?”
“You can learn the man’s part, too.” Shi Jinlan didn’t deny it. Instead, she whispered by her ear.
Chi Qian had no particular preference for the man’s or woman’s part; they didn’t really distinguish between them in many things, anyway.
But the feeling of being held and spun was just too wonderful. She took Shi Jinlan’s hand, wanting her to experience it too. “You spin, too.”
And Shi Jinlan would never refuse such a request.
Following the pull of Chi Qian’s hand, she went onto her toes and began to turn.
The hem of her cyan dress bloomed in the direction of the breeze, like a rose in full, vibrant blossom.
Shi Jinlan knew how to hold a gaze. Her cool eyes locked onto Chi Qian’s face, so utterly captivating5 it made one forget to breathe.
Chi Qian was stunned.
She even forgot that this rose belonged to her, greedily wishing for an even longer future with Shi Jinlan.
“Dancing under the moon at a local folk gathering in Belgium…”
Chi Qian recalled Shi Jinlan’s description from before. Holding her hand, she drew her back into an embrace. “Does this count as dancing under the moon?”
“It counts.”
The quiet hall was as dark as night. Shi Jinlan lightly raised a finger, and in a nearby window, a full moon rose.
The music from the box was soft and melodious, the unique timbre of the metal seeming to pluck not at gears, but at the human heart.
Chi Qian couldn’t resist the feeling. She nestled against Shi Jinlan’s neck, nuzzling her way up that path, and under the moonlight, she kissed her.
The author has something to say:
Qianqian: I want to be the one doing the flirting, too!
Footnotes
- Ayanami Rei (绫波丽, Língbō Lì) is a major character from the highly influential 1995 anime series 'Neon Genesis Evangelion.' The 'pool of orange liquid' refers to LCL, a fluid central to the series' plot, into which characters dissolve during a cataclysmic event.
- The idiom 探囊取物 (tàn náng qǔ wù) literally means 'to reach into a bag and retrieve something.' It describes doing something with extreme ease, as simple as taking something out of one's own pocket.
- The idiom 狐假虎威 (hú jiǎ hǔ wēi) literally means 'the fox borrows the tiger's might.' It comes from a fable about a fox who walks with a tiger to intimidate other animals. It describes someone who uses a powerful connection to bully or impress others.
- The idiom 无师自通 (wú shī zì tōng) means to learn or master something without a teacher, implying a natural talent or innate understanding.
- The idiom 勾魂摄魄 (gōu hún shè pò) literally means 'to hook the soul and seize the spirit.' It describes something or someone so captivating and enchanting that it feels as though one's very soul is being pulled away.
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