So I Had No Choice But to Stop Being the White Moonlight

So I Had No Choice But to Stop Being the White Moonlight – Chapter 144

by Little Panda

Extra

Demanding

She still has plenty of time to freely enjoy her kiss

The noon sun was blinding—even an artificial sun couldn’t hide such brilliance.

But the tea-tinted glass coldly refused the daylight’s visit. In the dim interior of the bar, the resident singer was singing a familiar tune once again.

The scent of fruit mingled with alcohol, swirling outward from the bar counter. A cocktail shaker clinked against the table with a crisp sound.

Song Tang flicked her wrist, deftly popping the shaker open. The spotlight overhead poured its beam into the clear liquor, refracting into a shimmering cascade of light.

Ice cubes clung to a string of fine bubbles, rising to the surface under the force of the motion.

Song Tang moved with practiced ease. She pushed the glass toward Chi Qian and said, “Taste it. My new creation.”

The cold extracted the purest flavors from the alcohol. Chi Qian knew just from the aroma that Song Tang had created another signature drink.

But instead of tasting it, she caught the glass sliding toward her and smiled at Song Tang. “Missed the mark just now?”

Chi Qian spoke plainly—so plainly that if anyone else had said it, Song Tang would have assumed they were here to cause trouble.

But she and Song Tang went way back. Directness was their custom.

Song Tang’s eyes held only resignation. There was no hiding it now. “You really do have sharp eyes.”

“After all, we used to be the same person.” Chi Qian teased, picking up the glass and taking a sip.

The sharp cold of the alcohol slid across Chi Qian’s tongue. The fierce opening gave way to a gentle finish—like a slap followed by a sweet date.

Chi Qian raised an eyebrow at the drink, her thoughts drifting to two particular people.

She watched Song Tang wiping down the counter, holding her glass casually. “Soon.”

Song Tang paused at those two words. Then, as if she hadn’t understood—or was pretending not to—she asked, “What are you talking about?”

“What do you think I’m talking about?” Chi Qian simply returned the question.

Her eyes were too sharp. Or perhaps this was the only thing weighing on Song Tang’s heart. She sighed and set down her cloth. “Counting the days, it’s been a month already. About time. I keep feeling like it could happen any day now.”

Chi Qian knew how much Song Tang missed Yuan Ming, especially after their less-than-pleasant parting.

But waiting like this wasn’t going to help. Chi Qian decided she needed to distract Song Tang—fill her head with something else so she wouldn’t be so anxious.

“Since Ah Yuan will be back in a few days anyway, why don’t we plan a welcome party for her?” Chi Qian suggested.

“Well… that’s not a bad idea.” Song Tang nodded, though still hesitant.

Her worry for Yuan Ming outweighed her anticipation.

Guarding an entire world alone, with no friends or family, and her lover long dead by her own hand—how unbearable those days must have been.

If only she could sneak back in disguise.

Just as Song Tang was thinking this, a breeze drifted in from somewhere distant.

The bar’s tightly closed doors were pushed open. Wind chimes clinked together in the draft, their crisp sound threatening to drown in the crowd noise, yet rising like driftwood from the depths of the sea, impossibly clear.

“One Ocean Lemon.”

A slender silhouette fell across the bar counter, backlit by the light. The gentle voice was like a long wind brushing across the sea on a midsummer day.

Song Tang’s hands froze mid-motion. Her heartbeat raced faster than her reflexes, accelerating before the sound had even finished.

Her crimson hair seemed to truly ignite in that moment. Her eyes widened uncontrollably.

Afraid she had heard wrong.

Afraid it wasn’t her.

It took Song Tang a long moment to lift her head.

In the dim light, a single beam happened to fall upon the bar. The hair that had once cascaded like a waterfall was now cut short, barely reaching her shoulders. But those eyes—those eyes still held their gentleness.

No deception, no calculation. Just a warm smile directed at her.

In an instant, the entire space seemed frozen in this single second.

Chi Qian, sitting to the side, was also full of surprise. But she didn’t look at Yuan Ming—instead, she glanced toward the distance.

There, framed in the bar’s light-filled doorway, was a tall shadow. Shi Jinlan leaned against the wall with an air of bored indifference.

She had brought Yuan Ming back.

“Ah Yuan.” Song Tang finally recovered. Looking at Yuan Ming standing before her in the flesh, her lips parted.

“I’m late. I’m sorry.” Yuan Ming looked at Song Tang, her gentle eyes filled with apology.

“You really are late!” Song Tang’s voice carried both accusation and complaint, but she vaulted over the bar counter and threw her arms around Yuan Ming.

She held Yuan Ming tightly, as if not even air could pass between them.

But her accusations were real. Her fist pounded Yuan Ming’s shoulder several times. “How can you be so heartless? I waited over a month for you—that’s longer than President Shi waited for Qianqian!”

But Yuan Ming didn’t feel the pain. Her eyes remained locked on Song Tang.

She gazed at Song Tang, watching her come alive again in her vision, and repeated, “I’m sorry. I made you wait.”

“You only know how to say that one thing to me.” Song Tang was dissatisfied with Yuan Ming’s monotonous words. A small pout appeared in her eyes as she pressed Yuan Ming’s hand against her own chest. “And do you know—that sword of yours stabbed right into my heart. It hurt so much.”

At those words, the finger clasped in Song Tang’s hand trembled.

Losing her beloved was the longest curse she had endured over thousands of years. The more time passed, the more she dared to face her own heart. But the world never offered both fish and bear’s paw.

Since birth, she had carried the mission of saving the world and protecting all living beings. She had to see it through to the end.

After this lifetime, Yuan Ming understood many things. She understood better how precious Shi Jinlan’s rebellion had been—even if she still disliked her.

That compassion slowly surfaced in Yuan Ming’s eyes. It was her belated sense of responsibility as the Main System.

“I’ll make it up to you.” Yuan Ming spoke, her hand still held by Song Tang, resting against Song Tang’s chest.

A narrow strap was pressed beneath her palm. The heartbeat beneath was unobstructed.

Yuan Ming lightly traced the place where she had once stabbed Song Tang, her gaze deep.

This reunion was finally happening, long overdue. In this moment, the bar belonged to the two of them.

Only the spotlight directly overhead illuminated Chi Qian, making her particularly bright.

Chi Qian sat to the side, finally understanding how Thirteen must have felt.

She watched these two lost in each other, really not wanting to witness another scene like the one she’d seen before. She quickly lowered her head and retreated.

And in her haste to escape, she was destined to stop only when she collided with something.

So once again, Shi Jinlan served as the cushion for this clumsy fool Chi Qian.

“Careful.” Shi Jinlan saw Chi Qian about to rush toward someone else and grabbed her arm.

Chi Qian stumbled from Shi Jinlan’s pull, ending up right in front of her.

They were old married couple enough not to blush at such small intimacies. Chi Qian’s mind was still full of questions. “How did you bring Yuan Ming back early?”

“Got tired of watching.” Shi Jinlan answered calmly, her eyes still serene.

But this person was always saying one thing while meaning another. She hadn’t really wanted to obtain this system.

She had seen that the time was about right, so she pulled Yuan Ming back after she completed her system trial.

If that person didn’t come back soon, there would be more than just Song Tang worrying.

That wasn’t what Shi Jinlan wanted.

So she didn’t want to discuss it further. She changed the subject: “Didn’t you say you wanted to hold a welcome ceremony for Yuan Ming?”

“Right!” Chi Qian nodded, excited and eager. “Since Ah Yuan is back, let’s throw a simple one for her!”

Chi Qian wanted to do it, so Shi Jinlan accompanied her.

Though the welcome party for Yuan Ming was just a small gathering of the four of them, Chi Qian still used what she could access in the system to decorate the Main System Hall anew.

Only when it came to choosing food, Chi Qian hesitated.

“What should we have for dessert?” Chi Qian cast a pleading look at Shi Jinlan.

“Try this.” Shi Jinlan produced an ice cream from somewhere. The pale pink color was thick and creamy, looking especially tempting.

Chi Qian was surprised and eager. She took the spoon Shi Jinlan handed her and took a bite.

The ice cream had a delicate sweetness that melted on her tongue. The fruit fragrance was fresh—not like anything from this world…

Chi Qian paused, looking thoughtfully at Shi Jinlan. “Is this… from Gucheng Hollow?”

“Shimei has a discerning palate.” Shi Jinlan smiled and nodded, filling in the story of what had happened after they left. “Under Yuan Ming’s protection, the Four Seas and Eight Wastelands¹ are at peace. The Demon Realm soil research at Gucheng Hollow is progressing smoothly.”

“That’s wonderful.” Though she had only spent a few days there, Chi Qian felt deeply attached to Gucheng Hollow—especially to her cheap master, the four sisters Spring, Summer, Autumn, and Winter, and lively people like Tu-shijie. Her sigh came from the heart.

As she spoke, Chi Qian looked greedily at the ice cream in Shi Jinlan’s hand and took a big bite.

“!”

She ate too much too fast. Chi Qian’s brows suddenly furrowed. Her temples throbbed with brain freeze.

Just as she was frowning, fighting against the sharp cold, a warm palm pressed against her.

Shi Jinlan set the ice cream in Chi Qian’s hand, then reached over to cover her temples. “Don’t eat so fast. There’s still the welcome party tonight.”

“It’s good, isn’t it?” Chi Qian forgot the pain as soon as the wound healed—especially with Shi Jinlan warming her. She lifted another spoonful.

But before she could bring the ice cream to her mouth, she felt a force take hold of her.

Her wrist moved beyond her control, slowly drifting toward Shi Jinlan.

Though they had returned to the system world, Shi Jinlan’s power hadn’t faded. She effortlessly moved Chi Qian’s hand in front of her own face, asking with deliberate provocation, “Little heartless one, you’re not even asking if your shijie wants a taste?”

“Shijie doesn’t want any. I know—shijie gives me all the good things!” Chi Qian smiled, her eyes curving mischievously.

She couldn’t resist Shi Jinlan’s strength. As she spoke, she leaned in toward Shi Jinlan and ate the spoonful of ice cream herself.

And that motion made Shi Jinlan narrow her eyes.

She cupped Chi Qian’s chin with one hand, leaning closer. “Then do you know I’m going to demand all of this back from you?”

Her cool fingertip traced across Chi Qian’s lips. What she meant by “demand” was unmistakably clear.

Chi Qian was still Chi Qian—perhaps even more unrestrained these days.

She raised her hand to hold Shi Jinlan’s wrist and said “I know,” her voice clear and crisp like ice cubes striking glass. Her lips, still carrying the taste of alcohol, pressed directly against Shi Jinlan’s.

Her lips, freshly kissed by the ice cream, were cool. They brushed against Shi Jinlan’s lips, passing on the strawberry flavor.

The frozen fragrance slowly spread with the mingling of their tongues. Taste buds are the most honest things in the world, delivering the full, water-luscious strawberry into Shi Jinlan’s mouth.

A fine itch crept into Shi Jinlan’s chest. Her dry throat swallowed heavily with the moisture.

The vast Main System space echoed with soft sounds. Shi Jinlan pressed fully against Chi Qian, her waist held tight, as if it might snap at any moment. But the palm braced against the bone at her waist—clearly the culprit—still rubbed and supported her.

Through the floor-to-ceiling glass surrounding the hall, systems and mission-takers flew past. Frosted glass scattered the daylight, revealing only two silhouettes locked in an embrace.

Shi Jinlan rarely delayed her plans. But suddenly she felt it didn’t matter if the welcome party for Yuan Ming wasn’t finished on time.

After all, the two at the bar probably wouldn’t make it on time either. She still had plenty of time to freely enjoy her kiss.