So I Had No Choice But to Stop Being the White Moonlight – Chapter 85

I’m Not Going to Be the White Moonlight

“Not a Punishment! It’s a Reward!”

The sun hung high outside the window, its scorching light piercing the room through a halo refracted by the glass.

The brilliant daylight split into the colors of a rainbow, a resplendent golden glow that seemed to illuminate the mortal world in an instant.

            

After Chi Qian finished speaking, the room fell into a silence so profound it felt like a system crash.

Shi Jinlan had no idea where Chi Qian had learned to say such things. She kept her expression restrained, betraying no hint of her thoughts, but her heart felt as if someone had tipped over an entire bottle of glass-bead candies.

The plump, sweet candies fell onto her heart one by one, their crisp sounds forming a line before scattering into a chaotic patter, rolling and filling every corner of her once-barren and desolate world.

            

The sweetness melted rapidly, an invader brazenly conquering every part of her world.

Shi Jinlan lightly bit her lip, her stunned eyes growing deeper. Her lips parted slightly as she asked again, “You… say that again.”

“You’re the best, Wife!” Chi Qian looked into Shi Jinlan’s eyes and, without a trace of reservation, loudly repeated what she had just said.

            

In truth, she didn’t know exactly what kind of “nice things” Shi Jinlan wanted to hear, but she was certain these words would make her happy.

Could anything be more delightful than hearing the person you like call you “Wife”?

Chi Qian thought that as long as Shi Jinlan wanted to hear it, she would say it for her a thousand, ten thousand times.

            

For all these years, Shi Jinlan had been all alone, forced to lose things as she forged ahead.

Her life had been so bitter. Couldn’t she give her something sweet to taste?

As Chi Qian was thinking this, Shi Jinlan chided her softly.

            

“Such clever words and a pleasing countenance.​¹“

But the woman’s actions didn’t match her words at all.

Even as she said this, she raised a hand and hooked a finger around the collar on Chi Qian’s neck, leaning in to kiss her.

            

Sunlight baked the living room, scattering a dazzling sheen over the hem of Chi Qian’s bright yellow skirt.

The light fabric cascaded from the sofa, unable to hide the long legs that pressed against each other.

Chi Qian was determined to give Shi Jinlan a taste of sweetness and took the initiative, placing her own hand on the other woman’s arm.

            

Their warm breaths intertwined and fell. Chi Qian’s teeth pressed against Shi Jinlan’s lips, sometimes hard, sometimes soft, making the woman, currently pinned beneath her, tremble and arch upward, her blood surging.

“Ah Qian, mmm…”

The heavy softness was held in a palm. A current of electricity shot up Shi Jinlan’s back, sending a wave of numbness through her spine.

            

With a few swallows, it was Shi Jinlan who let out a whimper first.

Buzz… buzz… buzz…

The summer wind, unversed in the art of romance, blew a wave of dry heat in from the entryway.

            

The phone in the pocket of Shi Jinlan’s pants, which were pressed against Chi Qian’s leg, began to vibrate. It seemed to be a call.

The kiss was reluctantly broken. Shi Jinlan took out her phone, glanced at the caller, and then declined the call.

But she didn’t resume their kiss. Instead, she released her grip on the collar around Chi Qian’s neck. “Things have been busy at the company lately. There are a lot of emergencies I need to handle. I have to go.”

            

Hearing this, Chi Qian’s eyes and brows drooped noticeably, like a pitiful puppy. Though reluctant, she still said to Shi Jinlan, “Be careful on your way, then.”

The words sounded listless, and as they passed Shi Jinlan’s ears, they also sounded vaguely familiar.

Just moments ago, when Yuan Ming had left, Chi Qian had said the exact same thing to her.

            

At this thought, a hint of displeasure crossed Shi Jinlan’s face. Her hand, still pinching Chi Qian’s waist, did not let go. “Chi Qian, do you say that to everyone?”

A shadow fell over her. Chi Qian instantly realized what was bothering Shi Jinlan.

This time, her mind spun quickly, and her actions were just as fast. She cupped Shi Jinlan’s face and, with a loud smack, planted a kiss on her lips. “I give you a little extra.”

            

The trees swayed the sun’s shadow, and the light danced.

Shi Jinlan had been staring at Chi Qian with a cold face, but slowly, she found it harder and harder to maintain her composure. It seemed a trace of a smile was about to hook the corner of her lips.

But Shi Jinlan still wanted Chi Qian to remember this lesson, so she tried her best to maintain her cool and serious image.

            

The struggling corners of her mouth were suppressed. She took a deep breath and said to Chi Qian in a voice that held no real threat, “Be good and wait for me at home.”

“Mhm.” Chi Qian’s face was lit with an obvious smile.

She watched as Shi Jinlan, having thrown out that line, turned and walked away, the corners of her own mouth lifting into a wide grin.

            

Seriously? She was clearly flustered by me but still had to put on that aloof, smug act.

Shi Jinlan, oh, Shi Jinlan.

So cute.

            

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After that day, Shi Jinlan truly became busy. She left early and returned late, and Chi Qian often wouldn’t see her for most of the day.

Why “most of the day”?

Because no matter how late her work kept her, every time night fell, Shi Jinlan would return, traveling by starlight and moonlight.​²

            

The full moon hung on the tips of the tree branches, and the starlight was sparse.

Shi Jinlan tiptoed to the bed and, with practiced ease, pulled the already-sleeping Chi Qian into her arms.

Her possessiveness overrode her caution. Shi Jinlan needed Chi Qian.

            

Only when she was holding her did she feel like she had come alive again for the day, that she could face the annoying and troublesome matters of tomorrow.

A warm breath quietly brushed past Chi Qian’s hair as a clean, fresh scent pressed in from behind.

It wasn’t like she slept as soundly as the husbands in certain types of films. When she was pulled into an embrace like that, she knew Shi Jinlan was back.

            

Hazy drowsiness mixed with clear awareness. Chi Qian’s sleep-softened body turned on its own as the arms wrapped around her.

With that warm fragrance in her arms, she pressed against Shi Jinlan’s arm and nuzzled her face against it, as if trying to curry favor, or perhaps welcoming Shi Jinlan home.

The night outside the window was quiet. The cicadas had hushed, and the chirping of insects emerged from the lawn.

            

The clean scent was the best sleep aid. It wasn’t until Shi Jinlan’s arm wrapped around her waist, binding them together, that Chi Qian’s sleep for the night finally settled into a peaceful state.

The scattered starlight flickered, now bright, now dark, and was eventually replaced by the sun.

Chi Qian slept until the sun was three poles high.​³ The sun was practically baking her butt to wake her up, but she remained unmoved.

            

Yesterday, Shi Jinlan had returned later than the past few days, and she hadn’t slept well for a long time.

A breeze from the lake lifted the curtains, sending shimmering ripples of light across the room.

Chi Qian frowned, rolled over with the quilt that had taken Shi Jinlan’s place, and went back to sleep.

            

“Meow-wu—Meow-wu—Meow-wu—” (Host! Host! Host!)

In the peaceful silence, a ripping cat’s meow suddenly erupted from the doorway.

Thirteen was crouching in front of Chi Qian’s bedroom door, its neck craned, scratching and yowling at the person inside.

            

Chi Qian had never heard such an awful sound. She finally understood what the line from the old poems, “a jarring and unpleasant sound,”​⁴ really meant.

She shot up in bed, thoroughly displeased that her sweet dreams had been ended in such a violent manner.

The person who had arrived had a tight frown. Her bare feet padded across the carpet, making a series of soft thumps.

            

Then, the tightly shut door was abruptly yanked open. Chi Qian stared at the cat still pawing at the air before the door and retorted, “Don’t you know how to open doors?!”

“Meow~ (I forgot.)” Chi Qian’s shadow completely enveloped Thirteen. Seeing her, it immediately lowered its paw, its round face turning obedient. It meowed again, its voice returning to its usual sweetness.

Chi Qian looked at Thirteen’s big, blinking eyes and was speechless for a moment.

            

But humans were powerless against cute animals. Her anger dissipated. She just turned back and walked toward the bed, asking, “What’s so urgent that you even forgot you could open the door yourself?”

“There’s a new message from the System!” Thirteen followed closely at Chi Qian’s heels, its voice tense.

“Let’s hear it. What kind of punishment is it this time?” Chi Qian replied, looking completely unfazed, as if she had expected this.

            

It made sense. Shi Jinlan had been so busy these past few days, she must have found a new enterprise to acquire.

The System’s mission for her was to stop Shi Jinlan from expanding her power. Since she hadn’t succeeded, there was bound to be a punishment.

“It’s not a punishment! It’s a reward!” Thirteen said excitedly, but its face showed none of the joy that should come with a reward.

            

“What?”

Hearing this, Chi Qian’s face finally showed astonishment.

She couldn’t believe her ears. She turned to look at the calico cat at her feet. “A reward? How could it be a reward?!”

            

“Because the System observed that you have delayed the speed at which Shi Jinlan is taking over the world,” Thirteen explained, its expression grave.

“Me?” Chi Qian was incredulous. Flashes of her “daily life” with Shi Jinlan from the past few days went through her mind.

Was this a “the king does not attend morning court” type of plot?

            

Impossible.

If that were the case, this reward should have arrived days ago. Why would it be delayed until now?

Besides, judging by Thirteen’s expression, this wasn’t good news.

            

“What exactly happened?” Chi Qian asked, suspicious.

“You should open your phone and see.” Thirteen, at some point, had jumped onto the nightstand and nudged the phone Chi Qian had left there.

Chi Qian didn’t even need to search. The moment she unlocked her phone, a flood of breaking news notifications popped up.

            

The freshly published front-page headline was emblazoned with a bold line: The former chairman of the Shinian Group fell to his death from the Shichen Building at seven o’clock this morning.

Fell to his death.

Shi Jinlan’s grandfather, that fierce old man, was dead?

            

The shrill cry of cicadas pierced through the glass, one wave after another pushing into Chi Qian’s ears.

She had a bad feeling. She swiped down on the news story, and the comment section was more bustling than ever, filled with comments from all sorts of melon-eating masses.​⁵

【Isn’t Shinian Group doing fine? I haven’t heard about any crisis? Why would he jump off a building?】

            

【Shouldn’t he be enjoying his retirement at his age?】

【With a granddaughter as capable as that, who knows if she treated the old chairman well [dog head​⁶].】

【Granddaughter forcing her own grandfather to his death, what kind of dog blood drama is this.】

            

【This is utterly depraved, inhuman!】

【I heard that Shi Jinlan’s parents both died, and she was raised by her grandfather from a young age.】

【Is this how she treats the grandfather who single-handedly raised her?! What a white-eyed wolf.​⁷】

            

…

Shi Hongpin’s​⁸ death sparked all kinds of speculation, with the spear pointed directly at Shi Jinlan.

This direction of public opinion had been set the moment Shi Hongpin died.

            

People were never afraid to exaggerate the truth, and the media needed traffic.

The darker the stories of those in power, the more they stimulated the senses of the public and sparked discussion.

Shi Jinlan stood too high. The opponents she had defeated, the enemies she had crushed under her heel—they would all want to come and kick her while she was down.

            

For things to have escalated to this point, Chi Qian would never believe there wasn’t a hand behind the scenes.

But as Chi Qian stared at her phone, she felt something was wrong. Her heart rate soared, thumping wildly. “Thirteen, did your System have a hand in this?”

“The System will find any point it can to influence Shi Jinlan. Shi Hongpin was the point they captured.”

            

By saying that, Thirteen had admitted it.

“As soon as this news broke, Shinian Group’s stock fell by more than a point. Although Shi Jinlan’s position won’t be shaken, the group’s operations will definitely be affected in the short term.”

As Chi Qian listened, her grip on her phone tightened.

            

Even though Shi Hongpin had been at odds with Shi Jinlan, he was her blood relative, her only family in this world.

Shi Jinlan was the villain who received no sympathy, the fatted calf to be sacrificed to the protagonist.

The System used fate as its pen, treating her with near-cruelty. It gave her one thing, only to snatch away what she had just gained, piece by piece, without mercy.

            

“Dammit,” Chi Qian cursed, her teeth clenched tight. “I’ll kick every last one of you shitty systems to pieces sooner or later.”

“Meow…” Thirteen, crouching beside her, let out an aggrieved cry, as if to say: But not me, right?

Chi Qian had no time for Thirteen’s antics. Her heart was pounding, frantic and worried. Never before had she wanted to be by Shi Jinlan’s side so badly.

            

“I need to see Shi Jinlan,” Chi Qian said firmly.

However, this place in the middle of the lake was controlled by Shi Jinlan, and Thirteen couldn’t access the deeper parts of the system to help Chi Qian leave.

Understanding Chi Qian’s request with unprecedented clarity, it frantically searched through its limited abilities and quickly found the most useful solution. “I’ve found the contact information for Shi Jinlan’s assistant, Ah Ning.​⁹ She should be able to dispatch someone to pick you up.”

            

“As soon as possible,” Chi Qian nodded.

---

Clack, clack, clack.

The sound of high heels echoed down the long, silent corridor. A long shadow, cast by the lights, fell both in front of and behind her on the wall.

            

Chi Qian followed closely behind Ah Ning, her eyes chasing the ever-extending lights into the distance, desperate to know when Shi Jinlan’s door would appear.

After what felt like a very long walk, Ah Ning raised a hand to signal to Chi Qian. “Miss Chi, you can go straight in from here. The password is your birthday. Miss is inside.”

Hearing this, a sour pang twisted Chi Qian’s heart.

            

She felt awful, barely maintaining her composure as she gave Ah Ning a polite nod. “Thank you.”

“You’re too kind,” Ah Ning replied with a slight bow.

She watched the figure walk past her, her gaze obscure but earnest.

            

She hoped Chi Qian’s arrival could bring their Miss some comfort. She had been locked in her office for so long.

The Old Master’s death had been too sudden and tragic.

This was the second person to disappear from Shi Jinlan’s world in such a way.

            

The first had been the Miss Chi from the island.

The gloom was a shadow that followed, always squeezing in when one’s guard was down.

Ah Ning’s expression was unreadable. She didn’t know if this Miss Chi from the lake island could bring her Miss even a little solace.

            

---

Following Ah Ning’s directions, Chi Qian soon arrived at the door to Shi Jinlan’s office.

The one-way reflective glass blocked any view of the inside. Chi Qian placed her hand on the metal doorknob. A cold draft blew past, and the metal felt bitingly cold.

A sliver of cold light refracted off the handle. As the light fell inside, Shi Jinlan’s office came into view.

            

The vast office was silent. It was filled with things, luxurious and complex, yet it felt completely empty.

The floor-to-ceiling window that took up an entire wall reflected the sun outside. The cicadas buzzed relentlessly, but a cold wind dispersed the stuffy heat, as if nothing could fill this space.

A slender figure was enveloped in the large office chair. Seemingly hearing the sound from the doorway, Shi Jinlan slowly lifted her eyes.

            

“Does your System think this is enough to break me? They probably don’t know that I can perceive small worlds​¹⁰ that are still in their infancy…”

After a pause, Shi Jinlan’s lips curled slightly.

She let out a disdainful scoff, as if her fingertips were still stained with the annihilated dust of something.

            

“But they should know by now.”

“They have nothing left that can be used against me.”

As she said this, Shi Jinlan tightened her grip on the armrest of her chair.

            

Her pupils were filled with glee, but she lacked the smug satisfaction that should have accompanied it.

That pool of deep water refracted the light in different ways.

It was crystal clear, yet riddled with cracks, like a sheet of shattered glass. Facing the bright and splendid sunlight from the window, it plunged straight into the abyss.

            

She looked at Chi Qian with a possessive and somewhat crazed gaze. The fingers stained with starlight and dust reached out to her, beckoning her closer. “Except for you.”

“If Ah Qian is afraid of dying, you can take my life now and report back.”

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The author has something to say:

            

Lanlan: Need wife’s kisses QAQ

Qianqian: Draw the curtains!

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