So I Had No Choice But to Stop Being the White Moonlight – Chapter 140
by Little PandaConcerning My Cultivation and Turning My Wife into a Rabbit
Yuan Ming Leans in Song Tang’s Arms (Secondary Couple Scene)
“Do you want it?”
Dense clouds wove together across the sky, black and heavy, blanketing the sun. Even from the highest point of the Demon Realm, no sunlight could be seen.
Tens of thousands of spiritual stones1 illuminated the Royal City, while skulls gleamed with a ghastly light, stacked one atop another to form the foundation beneath the throne.
Below the throne stood several burly Demon Generals, each one a figure who had lived through blood and slaughter.
Yet the sound of turning pages rose faintly. These Demon Generals, who looked so impatient, were utterly submissive as they gazed at the figure on the throne.
Dim light fell through the hall, illuminating a face of peerless beauty.
Dark horns wound through crimson hair, ferocious and flamboyant, revealing the ruthless nature beneath the enchanting exterior.
These men below had all been beaten into submission by Song Tang.
When the Old Highness died suddenly and she first ascended to rule the Demon Realm, countless people had tried to drag her down openly and in secret. In the end, she had crushed their heads one by one, and no one dared challenge her again.
Her vivid red dress cascaded down the throne like fresh blood. Among the piled skulls were the heads of those old fools from before.
Song Tang leaned against the armrest on one side, propping up her chin, looking with utter boredom at the documents handed up to her.
The people of the Demon Realm were not skilled in letters. What they called documents were actually battle petitions submitted by these Demon Generals below.
Ever since Yuan Ming had come to Song Tang’s side, she had not given orders for eastward campaigns to swallow cities.
The Demon Generals below, each burly and battle-hardened, were the most war-skilled in the Demon Realm.
Steeped in blood year after year, many of them had become addicted. Going too long without battle made them itch with restlessness.
Song Tang found it truly exhausting to rule such bloodthirsty subordinates.
She had never been someone who enjoyed war. What she wanted more was peace.
Butβ¦
Song Tang’s fingernail pressed against her temple, nearly piercing the skin. She knew she had not come to this world to lead the Demon Realm’s people toward peace.
That was Yuan Ming’s task.
And she was Yuan Ming’s sacrifice, meant to help her sever emotions and love, to fulfill the duty of saving the world.
With this thought, Song Tang looked again at the document in her hand.
It was a plan written by her most reliable Demon General, targeting cities best suited for her people to relocate and inhabit.
“Proceed with your plan,” Song Tang said, tossing the document back. Then she added for everyone present: “I don’t want three cities of the Northern Realm. I want thirteen cities of the Northern Realm.”
At these words, the eyes that had been drooping moments ago all lit up. Excitement overflowed.
“Long live Your Highness!”
“Your Highness is wise!”
Perhaps because they had been holding back for so long, these Demon Generals celebrated with particular volume.
Song Tang rubbed her ears, making no effort to hide her dissatisfaction. She waved at them, cutting short the useless flattery. “Enough, all of you leave. Same rules as before, don’t forget.”
“Yes! I’ll prepare immediately! We depart within days!” The Demon General who had written the plan bowed with clasped hands to Song Tang, then excitedly led the others away.
This noisy crowd had arrived dark and somber, but left with smiles on every face.
Song Tang watched their smiles, still not quite accustomed to her subordinates’ excitement.
She knew this was wrong, but the Demon Realm’s environment was truly not suitable for long-term living.
When she had first arrived here, the gloomy, damp cold had been almost unbearable for her, let alone the food that looked entirely unappetizing.
Among those constantly seeking to conquer new cities, many simply wanted fertile land so their families could live properly.
It was just that the method was wrong.
Song Tang had tried reform. She had nearly been stabbed in the back by radicals.
In the end, she had too little time. She had constantly maneuvered against the old fools left by the Old Highness, eliminating dissenters, and without changing the plot, she had forced them to accept one condition: no massacring cities, no harming innocent civilians.
This was the meager thing she could do for Yuan Ming.
“Ah.”
Song Tang sighed softly, exhaling a long breath.
The current Little Highness was the freest and most carefree person in the Demon Realm. Thinking this, Song Tang shifted and lay directly across the throne.
She pillowed her hair on one armrest, then lifted her long legs, letting her red dress drape over the other armrest.
The vast Royal City hall was extravagantly luxurious. Even the ceiling above was carved with countless intricate reliefs depicting the ancient legends of the Demon Realm.
Song Tang gazed lazily at the reliefs, then closed her eyes, wanting to let her mind rest.
If only Yuan Ming were here right now.
Just as Song Tang was secretly thinking this, a gentle warmth touched her forehead.
Slender fingers pressed against her temple, rubbing in slow, gentle circles, leaving a layer of warmth.
Song Tang’s eyes flew open. She marveled at how her thoughts had summoned the person, and caught one of Yuan Ming’s hands. “You came?”
“I saw the generals leave, so I came, Little Highness.” Yuan Ming replied with proper courtesy.
She wore a dark purple gown adorned with crystals, their cold gleam doing nothing to diminish her tenderness.
She let Song Tang play with her fingers while her other hand continued the massage.
Song Tang heard Yuan Ming’s words and asked, as if casually: “How did they look when they left?”
“They all seemed very happy.” Yuan Ming answered truthfully.
“Is that so.” Song Tang lowered her gaze, responding faintly.
Then she looked up at Yuan Ming, who was attending to her, and deliberately revealed: “We’re about to have new territory. You should be happy too.”
At these words, Yuan Ming’s expression showed no happiness.
Her face even changed slightly, her gentle voice struggling to stay calm. “Little Highness is going to war again?”
“I won’t go.” Song Tang stated.
She truly disliked killing, and she knew her subordinates well.
The plot had given her an arrogant and willful persona, and she played the part skillfully, declaring with confidence to Yuan Ming: “After holding back all these days, their victory is assured.”
Yuan Ming heard Song Tang’s words, and from behind her, her gaze toward Song Tang gradually grew complicated.
So all these days, while Song Tang had appeared to be with her, lost in pleasure, she had actually been letting her subordinates build momentum?
She had thought her beauty trap was working.
In truth, this Little Highness had remained clear-headed all along.
The feeling of a plan falling through made Yuan Ming feel as if she had suddenly stepped into empty air.
And then she really did step into empty air.
Song Tang held her hand and pulled abruptly, yanking her into her embrace.
Yuan Ming, completely unprepared, fell into Song Tang’s arms, crashing into those dark purple eyes.
“What is it? You don’t look very happy?”
Perhaps because they were so familiar, just from the way she rubbed her temples, Song Tang had sensed Yuan Ming’s mood.
She pinned Yuan Ming in her embrace, playing the attentive and intimate role of someone lost in carnal pleasure.
This throne was more than enough for one person, but for two, it was rather cramped.
A sentence wrapped in warm breath drifted past Yuan Ming’s ear, the concern in the words laced with heavy lustful aura2.
Yuan Ming’s heart suddenly skipped a beat. She couldn’t tell if it was because Song Tang had suddenly pulled her into her arms, or because of what Song Tang had just said.
She knew clearly that such a heartbeat was wrong. She silently restrained herself from breaking her resolve and falling in love, answering Song Tang in a gentle tone: “It’s fine. I just think this place is already good enough. I don’t want to move again.”
“This isn’t good enough.” Song Tang gently brushed Yuan Ming’s long hair, her eyes holding a trace of pity. “I know you grew up hungry. This land is barren. When I take you somewhere else, you’ll never have to go hungry again.”
Displaced and homeless, selling herself into a household just for a full meal.
This was the Demon Realm identity Yuan Ming had fabricated. She hadn’t expected this notoriously dissolute Little Highness to remember it. For a moment, her eyes held a flash of desolation.
Was she not indirectly pushing the Demon Realm’s aggression?
“Being by Your Highness’s side is already good enough. Your Highness doesn’t need to do this for me.” Yuan Ming leaned in Song Tang’s embrace, her gentle fingers tracing the woman’s shoulder, trying to make her change the plan.
A current ran through Song Tang, flowing down from her shoulder in a fine, dense stream.
Her heart stirred. She wanted to hold this person tighter, make her listen to everything she said, become a foolish ruler.
But reality pulled at Song Tang’s nerves. She knew the plot couldn’t change, couldn’t interfere with Yuan Ming’s cultivation this time. She took Yuan Ming’s hand, which had been wandering between her neck and shoulder, and kissed it lightly, asking in return: “Don’t you want others to have full bellies too?”
Warm lips brushed against fingertips, the friction disturbing her mind.
Hearing this question, Yuan Ming froze for a moment.
The Dao she had cultivated since childhood taught her righteousness, duty to protect the world’s people.
But did that world include the Demon Realm’s people?
Yetβ¦
Yet this was no reason to burn, kill, and plunder at will.
They could find a thousand, ten thousand methods to change reality, not just this simplest, crudest form of plunder.
Yuan Ming’s eyes suddenly cleared again. She looked at the figure beside her, thinking only that this Little Highness was cunning. She had almost been led astray.
Indeed, dealing with people from the Demon Realm required twelve points of vigilance.
Just as she thought this, warm heat brushed against Yuan Ming’s ear.
Song Tang hooked her arm around her and bit her earlobe in punishment. “You’re lost in thought again.”
Yuan Ming had not anticipated this action. She pressed her lips tight to keep from making a sound.
That light bite was both painful and ticklish. The sharp teeth of a demon grazed her skin, making her heart race.
“No.” Yuan Ming forced down her racing heart, her hand wrapping around Song Tang’s neck, giving a light squeeze.
She had seen through Song Tang’s trap and naturally shifted the topic to something she should be more concerned with: “I was just thinking, is Little Highness dissatisfied with the recent meals?”
“It’s fine.” Song Tang lazily adjusted Yuan Ming to a more comfortable position for holding. Her chin dropped to rest on Yuan Ming’s shoulder.
She made no attempt to hide her intimacy and affection, breathing in without restraint the sea-breeze-like fragrance from Yuan Ming’s hair. “It’s just that the fifteenth is coming soon.”
These words sounded like Song Tang had mentioned it casually, her voice so light it barely registered, but Yuan Ming caught them at once.
Held in Song Tang’s embrace, she turned to look at her, focusing on the key word: “The fifteenth?”
“Yes, the fifteenth.” Song Tang nodded, gazing up at Yuan Ming with infinite tenderness.
She knew this person’s tenderness in this moment was all an act for her benefit. They stood on opposite sides of righteousness and evil.
But in the past, she had truly possessed this person’s tenderness.
She loved her.
So she was willing to fulfill everything for her.
Yuan Ming didn’t know why, but from Song Tang’s eyes looking at her, she saw a complex and obscure emotion. This didn’t resemble the usually dissolute Song Tang.
This made Yuan Ming feel inexplicably anxious.
She seemed to sense something. Then she saw Song Tang reveal a roguish smile, voluntarily exposing herself. “You didn’t know? Every year, the fifteenth of this month is when I’m at my weakest.”
As she spoke, Song Tang took Yuan Ming’s hand.
She held her fingers, parting her own disheveled collar. Pale skin glowed pink against the red dress. The sharp nail of a demon traced a clear line down it.
Song Tang pressed Yuan Ming’s finger against her own chest, telling her: “Right here. If you stab right here, I’ll lose my life.”
Yuan Ming had never imagined she would learn Song Tang’s weakness so easily.
In her vision, that notoriously dissolute Little Highness wore a scornful smile, inching closer to her until they were as close as possible.
Song Tang’s lips grazed Yuan Ming’s ear. She pressed against Yuan Ming without reservation, her burning breath pouring down as she asked with a smile:
“Do you want it?”
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