So I Had No Choice But to Stop Being the White Moonlight – Chapter 147
by Little PandaExtra
Song Tang x Yuan Ming (2)
I Have Someone I Like
Since high school, Song Tang no longer had as much time to cling to Yuan Ming.
Song Tang occasionally visited Yuan Ming’s school, watching the still-familiar university atmosphere, but the people around her were nowhere near as familiar as they had been in high school, never quite fitting in.
So Fang Xincheng’s appearance caught Song Tang completely off guard, leaving her bewildered.
And why did she call Yuan Ming: Xiao Ming?
No one had ever called Yuan Ming that before. Not even her.
The unease swelled rapidly in Song Tang’s heart—a possessiveness she couldn’t quite articulate, making her look at Fang Xincheng with a hint of awkwardness: “Ah Yuan and I grew up together, so of course we’re closer than anyone else.”
“That’s true. After all, you’re Xiao Ming’s little sister.” Fang Xincheng didn’t notice Song Tang’s discomfort, still linking arms with Yuan Ming.
But Yuan Ming seemed to sense something.
She deliberately released Fang Xincheng’s arm, positioning herself between Song Tang and Fang Xincheng, and said to Fang Xincheng: “I thought you said you were taking me somewhere good to eat, and we end up here?”
“Don’t underestimate this night market.” Fang Xincheng pointed toward a storefront not far away. “That place over there has amazing ice jelly1. Look, there’s even a queue!”
Yuan Ming followed Fang Xincheng’s gesture and saw the small storefront bustling with customers, business clearly booming.
Song Tang glanced over casually, then tucked her hands in her pockets—half reminder, half attempt to send Fang Xincheng away: “Well? Aren’t you going to get in line? It’ll be gone if you wait too long.”
“No need.” Fang Xincheng smiled and waved her phone. “I borrowed my senior’s VIP number. I just reserved it on the mini-app—we can even add to the order. Do you two want some? It’s free.”
Following the principle that anyone present gets a share, Fang Xincheng winked at Yuan Ming.
Since someone else’s senior’s card was paying, Yuan Ming readily agreed, not being polite at all: “Sure, let me see.”
That gentle, straightforward voice fell on Song Tang’s ears, making her feel something was off about Yuan Ming.
Or rather, this wasn’t like Yuan Ming’s usual attitude toward people around her. This kind of unreserved ease… she only acted like that with her…
At this thought, Song Tang’s gaze drifted back to Fang Xincheng.
This person, using the excuse of treating them, had moved even closer to Yuan Ming. Their shadows leaned together—intimate as could be.
Inexplicable discomfort spread through Song Tang’s body, inch by inch, making her feel thoroughly unpleasant.
She didn’t know what was wrong with her. She was staring blankly at Fang Xincheng when Yuan Ming’s voice reached her:
“Ah Qian, take a look. What flavor do you want?”
“I…” Song Tang said, stepping forward and using this as an excuse to insert herself between Yuan Ming and Fang Xincheng.
She pretended to study the menu seriously, reading it for quite a while until she had thoroughly separated Yuan Ming from Fang Xincheng, then said: “This one. Honeydew flavor.”
“Alright, I’ll submit it.” Fang Xincheng took the phone from Song Tang, then checked her order number. “Three people ahead of us. Pretty quick. Let’s head over.”
“Okay.” Yuan Ming nodded, turning to Song Tang and letting her walk between them.
The sun grazed the horizon and slipped away. The night market blazed with lights, bustling with noise and activity.
Perhaps because she was in the middle, Yuan Ming and Fang Xincheng’s direct interactions decreased significantly, and Song Tang’s steps grew lighter. Yuan Ming watched from the side, thinking this person was far too easy to read.
The midsummer night remained stiflingly hot. The ice jelly shop did brisk business, the tiny storefront packed with warmth.
By order of submission, Fang Xincheng and Yuan Ming got theirs first. Following the server’s instructions, they chatted as they stepped outside.
In an instant, only Song Tang remained inside, waiting. She picked up her ice jelly a beat later, turning to find Yuan Ming and Fang Xincheng chatting happily.
The ice meant for insulation pressed against Song Tang’s palm, bone-deep cold spreading through her limbs and body.
Perhaps because as she entered university, Yuan Ming had accumulated too many friends and stories Song Tang knew nothing about.
And Fang Xincheng’s sudden appearance made this fact painfully clear, throwing Song Tang—who had long grown accustomed to being inseparable from Yuan Ming—into a panic.
She didn’t want Yuan Ming to have things she didn’t know about. Feigning natural liveliness, she grabbed her ice jelly and hurried toward them: “What, what? Let me listen too!”
But pretense was still pretense. Beneath Song Tang’s voice, urgency leaked through.
She was so focused on rushing toward Yuan Ming that she didn’t notice the step beneath her feet. In her flustered haste, she missed the edge and fell straight down.
“Ah!” Song Tang felt her foot go empty, her whole body crashing heavily to the ground.
The pain came too fast—Song Tang had no time to prepare. Her face instantly scrunched into a grimace.
This was the first time Song Tang felt so pathetic. Sitting alone on the ground, she inexplicably wanted to cry.
But before this emotion could spread through her heart, she felt her pant leg being lifted.
That warm palm pressed against her ankle, the careful, gentle touch carrying a tenderness she knew all too well.
“How could you be so careless? It’s sprained.” Yuan Ming assessed, a crease forming between her brows.
She didn’t reproach Song Tang at all—her voice held only concern. Then she reached toward Fang Xincheng: “Xincheng, give me the ice pack from the ice jelly.”
“Oh, okay.” Fang Xincheng, reminded by Yuan Ming’s voice, hurriedly handed over the ice pack.
Everything happened too fast. The surroundings were noisy and chaotic, and Song Tang’s figure was quickly swallowed by darkness. So Fang Xincheng hadn’t expected Yuan Ming to rush toward Song Tang so quickly.
In her eyes, this person’s every word and gesture carried an unhurried gentleness—even when experiments failed five or six times, she’d stay calm and smile, telling everyone it was fine.
So this person could have emotional fluctuations too?
And like this—brows furrowed in panic.
A large bulb suddenly flickered on, like a tiny sun, clearly illuminating Song Tang’s swollen ankle.
Yuan Ming gazed down at it, not expecting that her long-dead heart would beat again for someone.
Countless thoughts flashed through Yuan Ming’s mind. Song Tang’s fiery, impulsive manner vividly entered her field of vision.
This person was so much younger than her. Even emotions she tried to hide were easily seen through. She got awkward on her account, anxious on her account—every smile and frown was because of her.
Cicadas sang through countless summer naps. That gaze tracing Yuan Ming’s face was caught again and again.
Perhaps they’d been together so long that even she had overlooked it.
Only then did Yuan Ming realize that someone really could be wholeheartedly devoted to her.
She wasn’t destined to only watch from the sidelines, seeing the one she loved fall for someone else.
She, too, could have that one person. She, too, could have someone whose eyes were filled only with her.
Childhood sweethearts, growing old together.
She liked this story.
“There. Secured like this. I’ll treat it properly when we get home—it won’t affect your school tomorrow.” Yuan Ming deftly secured the ice pack to reduce Song Tang’s swelling.
But hearing this, Song Tang seemed to come back to her senses and protested: “Ah Yuan, I’m injured, and you’re worried about whether I can go to school!”
“You don’t want to go to the same university as me anymore?” Yuan Ming countered, her gentle eyes carrying a hint of challenge.
Hearing this, Song Tang immediately backed down: “Who said I don’t want to! I’ll definitely make it to school on time tomorrow!”
“Good. I’ll walk you tomorrow.” Yuan Ming’s eyes crinkled with a smile as she reached up to ruffle Song Tang’s head, then looked at Fang Xincheng: “I need to take her home. Please excuse me.”
Fang Xincheng watched the two of them crouched together in the same frame, her eyes holding a meaningful smile. She nodded at Yuan Ming: “See you tomorrow evening, then.”
Yuan Ming, seeing this, accepted Fang Xincheng’s look and replied with a single word: “Alright.”
By this time, the night market was at its peak. The crowd surged like a tide.
And Song Tang leaned against Yuan Ming’s back, watching that slender figure carry her, step by step, against the current, toward the entrance they’d come through.
Yuan Ming had a pleasant scent. Song Tang had discovered this back in middle school when they napped together at noon.
The clean fragrance of soapberry2, warmed by her skin, drifted past one’s nose, making the girl on her back secretly and greedily savor it.
Song Tang thought, if only Yuan Ming could carry her like this forever.
That way, she could always stay by Yuan Ming’s side, never to be separated again.
…What was she thinking?
Song Tang froze.
She suddenly realized the thought that had been occupying her mind wasn’t right.
How could she… have such thoughts about Yuan Ming?
Was it because of that Fang Xincheng?
The lights behind cast long shadows on the ground. Yuan Ming, noticing her own shadow overlapping with Song Tang’s, interrupted her thoughts: “Ah Qian, Xincheng is straight3.”
“Eh… hmm?” Song Tang nodded absently, but then seemed to realize something and snapped her head up to look at Yuan Ming. “But, but she was just so close to you…”
“Right? Straight girls are like that. They always do things that mess with our minds.” Yuan Ming said with a hint of complaint, smiling as if it didn’t matter.
But hearing this, Song Tang’s heart clenched. She looked at Yuan Ming’s profile and asked carefully: “So… so, you… do you like her?”
It was just a tentative question, yet Song Tang inexplicably found the words difficult to say.
A few simple words came out fragmented, each one making her heart pound—more nerve-wracking than presenting alone to a big boss in a meeting.
“How could I?” Yuan Ming smiled and denied it.
Song Tang was just about to breathe a sigh of relief when she heard Yuan Ming continue: “But I do have someone I like.”
“Who?” Song Tang’s heart, which had been about to settle, instantly shot into her throat.
She was clearly nervous, but tried to pretend she was relaxed and didn’t care.
Song Tang straightened her tense body slightly and asked: “D-do I know them?”
“Of course you do.” Yuan Ming gave Song Tang another straightforward answer.
Song Tang’s heart clenched again.
She rummaged through all her memories, eliminating them one by one: “Is it… Senior Lan from your dorm?”
“No.” Yuan Ming shook her head.
“Then is it Little Chen from across the hall?”
“No.”
“Zhou Zhou?”
“She’s already married.”
“Chang Lan?”
“She’s straight.”
…
She went through a whole string of names, nearly exhausting everyone around Yuan Ming that she knew.
She even guessed their elementary school classmates, and even their middle and high school teachers.
But Yuan Ming shook her head to all of them.
“Then who is it?” Song Tang rested her chin on Yuan Ming’s shoulder, asking Yuan Ming in distress.
The fixation came out of nowhere, making Song Tang determined to find an answer.
But the more she was denied, the more her heart raced with an answer she didn’t dare face.
“You.”
Yuan Ming’s voice was very soft, like a sigh.
The long sound drifted past the grilled squid stall, curling together with the rising steam.
In that instant, Song Tang heard her own heartbeat. Her face instantly burned hot.
Me?
Ah Yuan likes me?
She was shocked, bewildered, her heart painted with an inescapable excitement.
As if the answer she wanted… was for Yuan Ming to like her.
Why…
What was wrong with her?
But before Song Tang could react to those two words, Yuan Ming continued: “If you want to know, when you get into my university, I’ll tell you.”
The squid was doused with warm water, the dry kindling instantly dampened, clinging tightly to the iron plate.
Song Tang suddenly realized—Yuan Ming had just been sighing at her persistence.
She wasn’t saying she liked her.
The disappointment was so obvious, making Song Tang’s eyes instantly dim.
She looked at Yuan Ming’s profile, hiding her earlier chaos, pretending to be calm: “Then it’s settled. You can’t go back on your word.”
“I won’t.” Yuan Ming said softly.
Never mind that doing so might violate system rules, that she had unauthorizedly shut down the punishment Song Tang was supposed to receive for deviating from the main mission.
Never mind that later, Shi Jinlan—who never got her bride—would detect the system’s existence because of this and nearly destroy the entire world.
Footnotes
- Bīngfěn is a popular Chinese dessert made from ice jelly, served with various toppings like fruits, nuts, and syrup. It's especially popular in summer.
- Zàojiǎo (Gleditsia sinensis) is the honeylocust fruit pod, traditionally used in China as a natural soap and shampoo. It produces a gentle lather and has been used for centuries for personal care.
- Zhínǚ (直女) literally means 'straight woman' in Chinese internet slang, referring to heterosexual women. In LGBTQ+ community contexts, it's often used to describe women who are oblivious to same-sex romantic signals or whose friendly physical affection can be misleading.
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