So I Had No Choice But to Stop Being the White Moonlight – Chapter 141
by Little PandaConcerning My Cultivation and Turning My Wife into a Rabbit
“Not Here.” (Secondary Couple Scene)
“Do you like it here?”
The long night held no light. In the dimness, the cold of countless years had accumulated.
Yuan Ming watched her hand held in Song Tang’s grasp. The sensation of fingertips against skin was too clear—the hot blood flowing beneath, dispersing the chill that surrounded her.
Only seconds had passed since Song Tang’s voice fell, yet Yuan Ming already doubted whether she had heard correctly.
The Demon Realm operated according to the moon’s tides. Yuan Ming knew that the Demon Venerable was most vulnerable on the fifteenth of each month—which was precisely why she had drawn close to Song Tang, to observe and capture this moment.
But now, she could hardly believe that this person had so easily revealed this to her.
This was Song Tang’s own fatal weakness. If Yuan Ming truly harbored killing intent, Song Tang would die by her own hand.
Yuan Ming’s heart suddenly dropped, as if something had pressed down upon it.
What had been a meticulously planned scheme was now within easy reach—yet the other’s openness filled her with guilt.
When Song Tang spoke those words, had she considered that Yuan Ming might kill her?
Strict discipline, restraining the heart and tempering the nature.
From birth, Yuan Ming had carried the responsibility of saving the world. She had never felt there was anything to hesitate or struggle over. Even this plan—to approach the Demon Venerable as someone from the Demon Realm—had been her own proposal.
To venture alone into danger, all for the greater good of the common people.
Yuan Ming reminded herself with restraint, but Song Tang’s voice pulled her back to reality:
“Looking at you like this—have you really fallen for me?”
The spiritual stone1 burned with an eerie flame under external force, light and shadow dancing across Song Tang’s pupils.
Yuan Ming raised her head to look at Song Tang with an outwardly calm expression. Those dark purple pupils held her reflection—gentle, tranquil, showing not the slightest panic. Only being watched so closely made her heart race.
Song Tang was going to do something to her.
Yuan Ming knew this clearly.
She had long been prepared, steadying her mind, letting Song Tang do as she wished.
But when those warm, soft lips traced her ear and moved to her mouth as she had anticipated, her heartbeat still faltered.
People of the Demon Realm were naturally unrestrained. Every inch of their warm breath was thick with lustful aura2.
They seemed to have no concept of distance or propriety—if they fancied someone, they liked to draw close.
She would hold your hand, gently caressing your fingers as if handling fine jade.
You had no strength to resist, because early on, her lips had already met yours. Every breath you took was laced with her warmth, breaths intertwining, the sound of water between lips and teeth.
There was no storm approaching—only a calm lake surface, rippled by a small breeze.
Clothing grew looser. Yuan Ming should have felt freer, yet her body grew more tense. She watched helplessly as Song Tang’s hand hooked her skirt hem, then fell away.
Realizing what was about to happen, Yuan Ming’s heart seized with shock.
She hurriedly freed her hand from Song Tang’s embrace, blocking her. “Not here.”
Song Tang responded by kissing Yuan Ming’s earlobe—whether genuinely not understanding or deliberately playing innocent, she whispered against Yuan Ming’s ear: “What’s wrong with that? It’s not the first time.”
Such words would make anyone blush.
Much less Yuan Ming, who had been proper and disciplined since childhood.
A draft from the distant corridor stirred the surrounding curtains, making this grand hall both hidden and exposed.
Yuan Ming’s foot pressed lightly against Song Tang’s leg as she gazed at this public, solemn place, wary of anyone who might appear at any moment: “Not here.”
Even though Song Tang’s words weren’t wrong, she had never been intimate with her in such a place before.
It wasn’t allowed.
Why wasn’t it allowed?
Two voices suddenly appeared in Yuan Ming’s mind—one black, one white—warring against each other in her Spiritual Abode3.
Her heart had moved, and Song Tang gave her no chance to steady herself again. Closing the distance Yuan Ming had pushed away, she kissed her once more.
Fine gauze drifted down like blue smoke, concealing the skulls beneath the throne.
The dim light swallowed a rounded shoulder, delicate skin glowing cold white before slowly flushing pink.
Yuan Ming’s arm wrapped around Song Tang’s neck. At some point, they had both sat up.
With nothing behind her for support, Yuan Ming could only lean against Song Tang. Her light, disheveled clothing seemed to tremble—wave after wave—making one feel the loss of control.
Loose robes had this advantage: they swallowed Song Tang’s hands, hiding her movements.
But Yuan Ming gazed at this empty hall, always worried someone might emerge from somewhere. Her lashes, wet with moisture, lifted slightly—in the silence, they seemed to speak of endless grievance.
“L-Little Highness.” Yuan Ming tried to struggle, but Song Tang held her waist, pressing her tightly against her body. No wind could penetrate. Anyone who entered would see the intimate silhouette.
“What are you afraid of?” Song Tang said calmly, kissing Yuan Ming’s lips, then moving down—past her chin, her neck, finally stopping at her collarbone, her sharp teeth grazing that tender skin.
“!”
Without warning, Yuan Ming’s toes pressed weakly yet desperately against Song Tang’s throne, her lips pale from clenching.
She gazed into Song Tang’s eyes, feeling as if she had said something—yet she only saw her lips move, her ears filled with the sound of her own heartbeat.
Her skirt was soaked, scattered droplets dampening Song Tang’s clothes as well.
Yuan Ming felt she might faint from exhaustion, but her fingers dug into Song Tang’s back, leaving a clear red mark in the end.
She had the long nails of a Demon Realm native, yet like a powerless little beast, she could only express her emotions this way.
“Do you like it here?” Song Tang looked at her fingers, eyes teasing as she deliberately asked Yuan Ming.
Yuan Ming couldn’t bear to look. Her gentle eyes held a trace of emotion as she glanced sideways at Song Tang, then looked away: “No.”
“Angry?” Song Tang watched her, the smile in her eyes growing deeper.
She pressed her wet fingers against Yuan Ming’s cheek, gently rubbing. “Don’t be angry. Shall I carry you back?”
The glistening moisture didn’t have the clean, tasteless quality of water. Yuan Ming’s nose inevitably caught a scent, and her face flushed even deeper.
Like an ostrich refusing to face reality, she buried her head in Song Tang’s clothes, preventing her from teasing her further.
This was the first time Song Tang had seen Yuan Ming like this. She couldn’t help but laugh at this form of protest.
Then she rose lightly, effortlessly lifting Yuan Ming, and returned to their sleeping quarters.
Day in the Demon Realm was like night in the Cultivation World—and the darkness here ran deeper than black itself.
Yuan Ming woke abruptly from chaos. She seemed to have had a nightmare, yet no matter how she tried, she couldn’t recall what kind—only entanglement, as if she needed to make some choice.
But what choice did she have to make?
Yuan Ming thought silently, catching in her peripheral vision Song Tang sleeping beside her.
These days, she had been sleeping with Song Tang. At first, she wasn’t used to sleeping with another person. Now she was completely accustomed to it—she didn’t even want to be without this person beside her.
This Little Highness of the Demon Realm slept without any guard, her expression completely relaxed, even her Spiritual Abode seemed unguarded.
Dim light fell on her long, thick lashes. Those dark lashes were like a folding fan, or perhaps crow feathers—exquisite, carrying a certain obedience. It was hard to imagine this was someone who killed without blinking.
A long shadow fell gracefully across Song Tang’s face. Yuan Ming found herself staring without realizing it.
She lifted the arm hanging at her side, reaching out to touch Song Tang’s face.
Then, as if burned by fire, she snatched her hand back.
What was she doing?
Yuan Ming suddenly came to her senses, sitting up with a large movement.
Her eyes held panic as she separated from Song Tang and hurried outside.
Under the dark moon, her tall form stood upright. Even with darkness pressing upon her, her immortal grace remained undeniable.
To calm herself, Yuan Ming used her divine consciousness4 to see the outside world. Not long ago, under Song Tang’s orders, several cities in the Northern Realm had welcomed swarms of black Demon soldiers.
These bloodthirsty Demon soldiers attacked cities with ferocity—wherever they went, lives were lost.
Yuan Ming watched the innocent die, her hand suddenly clenching tight. Her chaotic heartbeat was roughly suppressed.
“Xu xu~”
Two low whistles, and a pure black bird flew from the distance.
The two red dots marking it as a pigeon showed this bird was disguised with a glamour5. It cooed twice, quietly waiting for the one who had summoned it.
As if to calm herself, Yuan Ming swiftly sent word of the attack on the Demon Realm’s Royal City planned for the fifteenth of this month.
She watched the pigeon fly away until it vanished, yet Song Tang’s face suddenly emerged in the cold moonlight.
She had held her, taken her to visit various places, given her a tree full of blue cherry blossoms…
Past memories surged through Yuan Ming’s mind with every smile and frown from Song Tang.
Her gaze was deep, pained yet resolute.
She gave her life to me. I should take it.
She repeated this over and over.
As if for the greater good. As if to steady her own wavering heart.
“…”
A rustling sound came, and Yuan Ming abruptly withdrew her complicated gaze.
Following the sound, she looked down and discovered a rabbit had hopped to her side at some point.
Harmless.
Its body glowed with faint spiritual energy.
Yuan Ming thought to herself, suddenly meeting those crimson eyes that seemed to hold no intelligence.
For some reason, that single glance made her feel a dislike for this rabbit.
She felt uncomfortable being watched by it.
And why should she like it, anyway?
It was a thing of the Demon Realm.
She should be at odds with everything in the Demon Realm!
Yuan Ming felt her thoughts were unstable. Just as she was about to turn and leave, she heard a hurried voice: “Don’t run around…”
Shi Jinlan had suddenly gone into some kind of rabbit mode. She had been walking with Chi Qian when she suddenly started running wildly.
Chi Qian chased after Shi Jinlan, calling out, and before she knew it, she had entered Yuan Ming’s line of sight.
Yuan Ming gazed at this dark figure in her vision. Though the person had disguised herself, the spiritual energy she emanated—however concealed—still marked her as a cultivator.
Yuan Ming looked at the person holding the rabbit, puzzled to encounter someone like this here.
And so Shi Jinlan was scooped up by Chi Qian, nestling into her arms, playing the part of a rabbit who understood nothing.
Chi Qian also found Shi Jinlan’s sudden obedience a bit strange.
A long wind blew through the corridor, cold air scattering. The atmosphere was subtle. She held the rabbit as she stood, raising her head to meet Yuan Ming’s eyes.
The long robes made the figure slender and graceful. Simple hair pinned up with a single hairpin outlined her temperament.
That was the upright pride of someone bound by rules, yet the softness between her brows couldn’t hide her gentleness.
“Ah—” Chi Qian hadn’t expected to encounter Yuan Ming at this moment. The address nearly slipped from her lips.
It was Shi Jinlan moving that cut off her words.
Yuan Ming also felt puzzled hearing Chi Qian’s sound. She looked at this woman she didn’t recognize, then saw her let out an exaggerated sneeze: “Ah-choo!”
Even so, Yuan Ming’s wariness and confusion toward Chi Qian didn’t diminish much.
She got straight to the point: “You’re not from the Demon Realm.”
Chi Qian didn’t pretend anymore. She bowed respectfully to Yuan Ming: “Xianjun has sharp eyes. I am a disciple of Gucheng Hollow. I ventured into the Demon Realm to help Xianjun.”
“Gucheng Hollow is thoughtful, but this matter is extremely dangerous. With your beloved, you shouldn’t risk yourself.” Yuan Ming spoke coolly, keeping her distance from Chi Qian.
Chi Qian paused at these words—not because of Yuan Ming’s distance, but because of that phrase “your beloved.”
She looked down at the rabbit in her arms, wondering when Yuan Ming had seen through Shi Jinlan’s identity. “But Xianjun, for the sake of the common people, we should contribute what we can.”
Yuan Ming should have been pleased to hear this, but for some reason, she didn’t want this person venturing deeper into danger. She sighed softly and instructed Chi Qian: “Then in three days, on the fifteenth, go to the wall hole in the northwest corner of the Royal City to provide support. Once the army infiltrates, you can leave.”
“Gucheng Hollow won’t participate in battle. May your rabbit cultivate into human form in the future, and may you grow old together.”
Chi Qian’s heart suddenly felt a pang at these words. She couldn’t help asking the departing Yuan Ming: “And you?”
“I…” Yuan Ming paused.
She turned her thin back to Chi Qian, her gaze resolute, holding scattered moonlight: “I have long set aside love and romance. There are more important things in this world for me to do.”
Footnotes
- Spiritual stones (língshí) are crystallized spiritual energy used as currency or power source in cultivation worlds.
- A Chinese term (yùqì) meaning 'lustful aura' or 'sensual energy.' The source text uses a censorship-circumvention spelling.
- The Spiritual Abode (língfǔ) is the internal spiritual space within a cultivator, accessible during practices like Dual Cultivation.
- Divine consciousness (shénshí) is a cultivation technique allowing one to project awareness to perceive distant locations or communicate remotely.
- A spell or technique that creates an illusion to change appearance or conceal true form.
- A spirit rabbit (língtù) is a rabbit imbued with spiritual energy, often kept by cultivators.
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