So I Had No Choice But to Stop Being the White Moonlight – Chapter 87
by Little PandaI’m Not Going to Be the White Moonlight
“I can’t live without you.”
The daylight was bright, spilling generously into the office.
The vast space was utterly silent, leaving only the sound of human breathing.
Overlapping breaths rolled together, impossible to tell whose was whose.
A forced-up throat bobbed gently, the sound of a swallow too faint to be heard.
Chi Qian lifted Shi Jinlan’s cheek, and like an obedient pet, kissed her lips.
Growing up, Chi Qian had never considered herself someone who could tolerate pain well.
But at this moment, a chaotic electric current from the annihilated world pierced through Shi Jinlan’s body and, through their connected lips, spread to Chi Qian’s fingertips, yet she only furrowed her brow slightly.
“Does it hurt?” Shi Jinlan gently kissed Chi Qian’s lips in return, gazing at her and asking in a soft voice.
The dancing sunlight fell on Shi Jinlan’s face, refracting like shattered glass.
Chi Qian was willing to share Shi Jinlan’s burden, just as Shi Jinlan had once held her hand. She loved what Shi Jinlan loved, so she could also feel the pain Shi Jinlan felt.
“It doesn’t hurt at all,” Chi Qian replied.
As if to punish the other woman for her lack of focus, she held her face and kissed her more deeply.
Shi Jinlan heard two crisp sounds meet, like two hearts made of glazed glass.
The sun-scorched scent was intoxicating. She closed her eyes gently, letting Chi Qian kiss her at will.
The brilliant sunlight made it hard to stand steady. The hem of Shi Jinlan’s light skirt was pressed down by a knee.
A pity that the delicate fabric was so unceremoniously crumpled into wrinkles.
While kissing Shi Jinlan, Chi Qian wove her other hand into her hair.
A cool, clean fragrance peeled away with the air conditioning’s chill, yet it couldn’t offset the layers of heat building between their breaths.
Shi Jinlan’s mood was still not good, and she tirelessly demanded more from Chi Qian.
Faint, wet sounds echoed in the office. Shi Jinlan swallowed, as if every bit of extra gentleness from Chi Qian could fill her hollow shell just a little more.
Until, in a certain instant, she was truly filled.
“…Ah Qian.”
Shi Jinlan let out a heavy breath, whispering her name against the shell of her ear.
Her fingers stroked the collar on Chi Qian’s neck, and in an instant, her blood seemed to boil.
A hook tugged at Chi Qian’s heart. Her palm cupped something soft, and she felt as if Shi Jinlan’s entire body was on fire.
And Shi Jinlan was, indeed, burning up.
Straight strands of hair stuck to her forehead, drenched in a thin sheen of sweat.
An unnatural flush spread across her face, connecting with the redness at the corners of her eyes. It was impossible to tell if it was from lust or the torment of illness.
“Ah Lan, you…”
Chi Qian grew tense at once. Just as she was about to say that Shi Jinlan had a fever, Shi Jinlan’s head first drooped, and then she collapsed onto Chi Qian’s shoulder.
She had fainted in the place she considered the safest.
“Ding-dong.”
The elevator chimed, announcing its arrival at the designated floor. Cold air crept along the ground and into the elevator car.
The sealed-off underground parking garage was deathly quiet. In the dim environment, only a series of crisp footsteps could be heard.
A car with its hazard lights flashing had long been parked steadily at the elevator entrance. The massive behemoth was controlled by someone, waiting quietly in place.
Chi Qian held Shi Jinlan securely while Ah Ning walked ahead of her.
The car door opened automatically with a wave of a hand. She carefully helped Chi Qian place Shi Jinlan inside, telling her, “Miss Chi, rest assured, Doctor Yuan is already waiting at home. Miss Shi will be fine.”
“Okay, thank you.” Chi Qian nodded, as if thanking Ah Ning for contacting Yuan Ming in advance, and also as if politely declining her outstretched hand to help settle Shi Jinlan.
In the height of summer, their clothes were thin.
Chi Qian supported Shi Jinlan’s heavily drooping face, her palm filled with her warmth.
The chill of the underground parking garage drilled into one’s body, bringing with it a measure of calm.
Chi Qian knew Shi Jinlan’s fever was caused by her destroying a System world as a mere mortal. She was worried about her current situation, especially the company. “Ah Ning, the company’s affairs…”
Ah Ning could see Chi Qian’s worry and treated her as one of their own. “Don’t worry, you can leave the company’s matters to me. This isn’t a big deal. There was no violation of the law. The Old Master’s death was purely an accident.”
“But all that stuff online…” Chi Qian had never experienced something like this and thought public opinion could crush a person.
But to people like Ah Ning, such public opinion was not even worth mentioning.
Her expression was composed, her calm tone laced with a hint that Chi Qian was overthinking things. “The obituary has been released, and the internet has gone silent. No one will discuss this matter anymore, and no one would dare to make an issue of it.”
That was right. A massive business empire would not collapse over something like this, especially since Shi Hongpin was already a marginalized figure.
If the person who died today had been Shi Jinlan, only then might the Shinian Group have its spine ripped out and come crashing down.
Even though the System had manipulated Shi Hongpin and used this world’s public opinion, it was all no more than waves crashing endlessly against a cruise ship.
Though they churned up some white water, in the end, they were nothing but foam.
“Okay.” Chi Qian gave a slight nod, an indescribable feeling in her heart.
Under the crushing weight of power, a person was as insignificant as an ant.
Even though she had been sent to delay Shi Jinlan, the System had never given up on slinging mud at her.
But Chi Qian didn’t understand. Why hadn’t the System been able to stop Ah Ning from suppressing public opinion and firmly planting the hat of “forcing her own grandfather to his death” on the head of this “great villain,” Shi Jinlan?
Chi Qian was a little surprised by this outcome. She thought the System was going to make a huge deal out of it.
How did it end up being such a sloppy conclusion?
Rounding a dim driveway, a bright golden line was drawn above the windshield.
Outside, it was still sunny and bright. A few sparrows perched on the treetops, tilting their heads to look at the car that had just driven out. As the vehicle approached, they took flight with a start.
Light and shadow flickered, scattering across Shi Jinlan’s face.
The high fever gave her cheeks an unnatural rosy color, but her lips were pale and slightly parted, quivering like a butterfly’s wings—a stark contrast to the summer scenery.
Watching her, Chi Qian felt a twist in her heart.
How she wished Shi Jinlan could also be a part of such brightness. She was meant to live in such brightness.
“Zzz-weng-weng-weng, zzz-weng-weng…”
【Hos-zzz-t, zzz-Host, Host!】
Suddenly, the sound of static, like an old radio receiving a call, spread from beside Chi Qian’s ear.
Thirteen’s voice struggled through it, growing from weak to strong until it appeared clearly in Chi Qian’s mind.
Chi Qian was incredibly surprised by the voice. Thirteen had actually overcome Shi Jinlan’s aura to get in!
Or was it that Shi Jinlan’s body was weak right now, so all her mental defenses had slackened…
At this thought, Chi Qian couldn’t help but gently stroke Shi Jinlan’s shoulder.
She had a good idea of what Thirteen was about to say, but she still asked: 【What’s wrong?】
【There’s a huge mess in the System’s internal network!】 Thirteen said excitedly, with the mentality of an indifferent onlooker eating melon.1 【A Small World that was still incubating collapsed without any warning!】
Chi Qian wanted to snark at Thirteen’s attitude, but upon hearing the last half of its sentence, she froze: 【Without warning?】
This was something Chi Qian hadn’t anticipated: 【Don’t you Systems know how Shi… how it happened?】
【It’s a huge mess precisely because we don’t know!】 Thirteen said, relishing describing the current state of the internal network to Chi Qian. 【You have no idea, there are bugs everywhere inside the System now, it’s a disaster! Everyone is exterminating bugs, and almost all the Systems have been pulled away to repair the Small World. Who knows if it can be fixed. Anyway, everyone’s in a total panic, completely overwhelmed.2】
At this point, Thirteen shifted its round, plump body to face the unconscious Shi Jinlan.
Perhaps because she was sick, Shi Jinlan looked like a fragile white flower in Thirteen’s eyes—fearsome, yet pitiful. It made the System sigh with emotion: 【Shi Jinlan is so lucky. With this happening, the System doesn’t even have the energy to battle wits and courage with her.】
【That’s not it.】 Chi Qian dismissed Thirteen’s words.
She suddenly understood why this matter had been suppressed so easily by Ah Ning and the others.
The unease that had been hanging over her suddenly dropped, landing heavily in her chest, sore and swollen: 【Her ability to turn danger into safety3 was never because of good luck.】
Chi Qian’s voice was drier than ever. As she spoke, she lowered her gaze to look at Shi Jinlan, who was leaning against her.
Though the high fever made her body scorching hot, she was curled up, pressing herself into Chi Qian’s arms.
Her thin shoulders were tense, and up past her collarbones, the blue veins on her neck stood out. Even in unconsciousness, she had never truly relaxed.
“Whoosh—”
The car entered a tunnel, and the howling wind squeezed sharply into the cabin.
In an instant, the world went as black as a deliberately knocked-over ink bottle. Gurgling darkness flooded Chi Qian’s vision, shrouding her.
Her hand moved instinctively to protect Shi Jinlan.
Those fingers, as white and almost translucent as spring onions, also tightened their grip on her.
The darkness made every tiny sound distinct.
As Chi Qian was adjusting to the change, she suddenly heard a faint cry amidst the sharp howl of the wind.
“Mama.”
It was likely human instinct that made people think of their mothers in moments of greatest danger and pain.
In the darkness, Shi Jinlan sensed the change in her surroundings. She clutched Chi Qian’s hand and curled up tighter, her straight back looking as if it had been shattered.
Chi Qian drew in a sharp breath.
It was just a single breath, but the oxygen that fell into her throat felt heavy, making her shiver several times in a row.
Hot breaths puffed against Chi Qian’s chest. She gently rotated her hand in Shi Jinlan’s grasp, letting her re-grip it in an awkward position that was easier for her to hold.
“All these years, you’ve suffered, Ah Lan.”
For some reason, Chi Qian suddenly felt a desperate urge to say this to Shi Jinlan.
Her voice caught. She leaned down and kissed Shi Jinlan’s forehead.
The sound of the wind in the tunnel grew sharper as the car sped on, as if it would pierce through one’s eardrums.
And in that same instant, a memory fragment flashed through Chi Qian’s mind.
Lonely stars trailed tails of light across the night sky, flickering in and out of existence.
The entire image was extremely unstable, shot through with deathly white electric currents, like a TV channel gone haywire in the dead of night.
“Zzz-zzz-zzz.”
“Don’t let go.”
“I can’t live without you.”
“Zzz-zzz-zzz.”
Winds from different directions rushed at Chi Qian from all sides. The electric static was interspersed with human voices, clamorous and chaotic.
She sat in the very center of these sounds, feeling as if the voice she heard was her own.
Before she could even consider what this meant, a heart-wrenching shout tore through the air beside her ear, as if something precious had just slipped through her fingers:4 “Shi Jinlan—!!”
The author has something to say:
Qianqian: Aunties, there will still be red envelopes for comments on this chapter~
Footnotes
- Refers to the internet slang ‘eating melon’ (吃瓜, chī guā), which means enjoying drama from the sidelines as a spectator.
- The original phrase is 焦头烂额 (jiāo tóu làn é), lit. ‘scorched head, battered forehead’, an idiom for being in a terrible fix or swamped with work.
- The original phrase is 化险为夷 (huà xiǎn wéi yí), lit. ‘to turn danger into safety’, an idiom for successfully navigating a crisis.
- The original phrase is 失之交臂 (shī zhī jiāo bì), lit. ‘to narrowly miss while brushing past arm-to-arm’, an idiom for missing a golden opportunity or letting something precious slip away.
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