So I Had No Choice But to Stop Being the White Moonlight – Chapter 50

Her Lover

In that single instant, the entire world fell silent.

The cold moon cut through the stuffy, humid air, sprinkling a faint light across the room. It drew the two figures—one in front, one behind—together.

A transparent button pressed against Chi Qian’s fingertip, hanging half-fastened in its buttonhole.

She had just slipped into Shi Jinlan’s dress when her movements froze.

The woven grass mat rustled, and a gaze rose from behind her. It was a calm, heavy gaze, tinged with a gloomy and incomprehensible wariness.

Chi Qian never would have imagined that Shi Jinlan would actually wake up.

Just moments ago, when I got up, she was still sound asleep.

“I imagine you’re probably not trying to go to the bathroom, are you?” Shi Jinlan said softly, a hint of a smile in her tone.

She seemed to be savoring the moment, yet her eyes, sunken in the dimness, remained fixed on Chi Qian’s back. She understood Chi Qian far too well. By speaking first, she blocked off the most likely excuse.

And just as she’d expected, Chi Qian bit her lip.

She knew Shi Jinlan had sensed it. This wasn’t just about leaving the room—it was about leaving for good.

But the System wouldn’t let her hesitate, its repeated urging tearing at her heart.

Chi Qian felt a sharp pain in her chest with every breath. Her thoughts were a mess, and she even had the reckless impulse to smash a cracked pot.¹

Forget waiting to send a text after I leave. I should just tell her right now that assassins are coming for her so she can contact her people. I’m about to receive a bento box² anyway, and I won’t be in this world anymore. Even if I tell her, she’ll have no way of finding out how I knew. I won’t have to clean up this mess.

The more she thought, the more she felt there was no need to be so careful. Spurred on by a sudden burst of resolve, as if at the first roll of the drum³, she turned to face Shi Jinlan.

“Ah Lan, quickly contact the people under you. Your Uncle has sent assassins to hunt you down.”

A gust of wind surged in from the courtyard, lifting the hem of her dress as she turned.

Shi Jinlan’s eyes filled with shock.

The reason she’d left the flower float parade in such a hurry was because she had spotted assassins in the procession.

Shi Cheng is truly an old treacherous, giant slippery⁴ fox. He’d already searched the island once, only to have his men pull a backward-thrusting spear⁵ and return. But how did Chi Qian sense it? She even knows I’ve contacted Ah Ning and the others. Didn’t Chi Qingyan and I agree not to let her know about this? Has she been pretending this whole time?

Question after question about Chi Qian swirled in her mind, and Shi Jinlan couldn’t begin to connect the dots.

Her gaze was inscrutable as she looked at Chi Qian, her expression gradually calming. “Is this the ‘small matter’ you were talking about?”

The warm night wind coiled around Shi Jinlan’s fingers, caressing a patch of hazy, damp tenderness. It felt just like Chi Qian’s hand against hers, only without that subtle, imperceptible trace of unease.

Such a cruel intimacy.

After what Chi Qian had just said, it wasn’t hard for Shi Jinlan to guess what she intended to do by changing back into her own clothes.

But Shi Cheng’s assassins are top-tier. Even in the dark of night, there’s no guarantee they’d be confused and let Chi Qian draw all their attention. Besides, even if she did draw their attention, what could she possibly do? It’s a one single road to death⁶. So… was it because she knew her chances were slim that she decided to… do those things with me at the end? This idiot. Why does she always do such idiotic things!

The thought slammed into her mind like a lead weight, and she felt a surge of anger at the sheer idiocy of it. But beneath the anger was a vast, unrelievable pain that lingered in her heart.

“Ah Qian.” Shi Jinlan called her name softly, her eyes complex as she fought to restrain her emotions. “Do you think you can solve this by yourself?”

“I…” Chi Qian was at a loss for words.

She couldn’t. And even if she said she could, Shi Jinlan wouldn’t believe her.

Her Ah Lan is such a clever person.

These assassins were formidable, and they were coming for Shi Jinlan’s life. She truly couldn’t handle them.

But it’s not my job to solve it. My mission is to delay. My job is to take the blow they can’t land on Shi Jinlan.

A knot of hot air seemed to swell in her throat. Her breathing was hoarse, like the scrape of a razor blade. Her lips parted, an indelible darkness hidden in her eyes. “I have something I must do.”

“The thing you must do is stay with me.”

It was as if their roles had reversed, with Chi Qian’s calm composure set against Shi Jinlan’s impulsiveness. She closed the distance in a few quick strides and seized Chi Qian’s hand, her grip leaving no room for negotiation.

Shi Jinlan’s eyes were resolute. “I’ve already contacted my people. Staying with me is the safest.”

No.

Chi Qian’s gaze fell. In the shifting light, her thick lashes looked like a single feather, tossed up and pressed down by the wind. The sharp pain in her heart dulled, replaced by an uncomfortable, stuffy heaviness.

She knew Shi Jinlan was only saying that because she’d already messaged her people. Anyone else would have been completely reassured by those words. But it had to be me. And thank goodness it was. I know we won’t be safe. From this moment on, fate is no longer on her side.

Click, click.

In the silence, the sound of a lock being picked echoed from the entryway. Chi Qian froze, her eyes fixed on the doorknob as it began to turn from the outside.

Thirteen once again pretended to leap in from the courtyard. It aimed its raised tail at the door, fur bristling in a defensive posture.

【Host, the assassins sent by Shi Jinlan’s uncle are here.】

So fast? Chi Qian thought in disbelief, before a realization dawned in her eyes. If I had really gone out disguised as Shi Jinlan just now, I would’ve run right into them. No wonder the System was rushing me. As long as “Miss Shen” went out, they wouldn’t come in, and Shi Jinlan would be safe.

“Meow!!” Thirteen moved nimbly, turning back into the courtyard and jumping onto the wall. It meowed twice at them. 【Host, the optimal route has just been evolved⁷. The wall here isn’t very high. Quick, take Shi Jinlan and climb over the wall to run!】

“Is it… signaling for us to climb the wall?” Shi Jinlan frowned, her gaze heavy as she watched the cat. She didn’t believe any creature could be that intelligent.

“Yes.” Chi Qian nodded, picking up her own jacket from the ground and draping it over Shi Jinlan. “Quick, let’s climb the wall and go.”

“Okay.”

Time was short. Though perplexed by Thirteen’s sudden appearance, Shi Jinlan followed its lead toward their only escape route. The wind picked up, scattering the white steam from the hot spring.

They moved with an unspoken understanding, as if they’d rehearsed this before. Shi Jinlan placed her hands on the wall, and Chi Qian was right behind her, deftly giving her a boost.

Auntie Zhou’s Hot Spring was built next to a natural spring on the mountain. The other side of the courtyard wall was a stretch of lush greenery, planted with precious trees for guests to admire.

Chi Qian looked up, watching nervously as Shi Jinlan settled on top of the wall. The leaves of a nearby sweet osmanthus tree rustled, its golden blossoms dotting the branches. In the warm air, the rich floral fragrance seemed to ferment into something almost alcoholic, making one’s head spin.

Her vision filled with a peacock-blue dress. The hint of green in the fabric made Shi Jinlan’s skin seem even fairer than the moonlight as she urgently reached down. “Ah Qian, hurry!”

Then, almost simultaneously, another image appeared: Shi Jinlan under the moonlight, wearing Chi Qian’s own linen jacket, was also reaching for her, saying the exact same words.

Chi Qian’s mind went blank for a second before the tense atmosphere pulled her back to reality. She hiked up her dress, took Shi Jinlan’s hand, and nimbly scrambled onto the wall.

The dim night swallowed their silhouettes, haloing them in a thin layer of white moonlight. In Shi Jinlan’s dress, Chi Qian’s build looked so similar to hers that it was as if they were interchangeable—Chi Qian was Shi Jinlan, and Shi Jinlan was Chi Qian.

As Shi Jinlan watched Chi Qian move, the dress fluttering in the night breeze, a faint unease clouded her heart.

“Come, I’ll catch you.” Chi Qian jumped down from the wall and held out her hands to Shi Jinlan.

“Okay,” Shi Jinlan nodded.

The rush of air from her descent lifted Chi Qian’s long hair, carrying its cold fragrance to her face. Without hesitation, Shi Jinlan leaped from the wall and into Chi Qian’s arms.

Thump, thump.

I don’t know if we’ll ever have another chance to be this close. The thought stirred ripples across the bitter, calm lake of her heart—layer after layer, echoing endlessly into the distance.

“Find a safe place later and give me back the dress,” Shi Jinlan said calmly, steadying herself in the bushes.

Of course, I know why you’re saying that.

But she didn’t want to. She laughed it off⁸, trying to deflect. “No way, Ah Lan. Are you really that petty? What’s wrong with me wearing your dress for a bit?”

Shi Jinlan, however, was completely unfazed. “I know you’re n—”

Rustle.

The sound of branches snapping in the distance suggested someone was approaching. Her words were cut off by a powerful beam of light that hit them, catching them completely off guard.⁹

Chi Qian squinted against the glare, her eyes fixed warily on its source. The light illuminated them, but it also outlined the burly figure of a man not far away.

Shi Cheng came for her life this time, so of course he sent more than one assassin. If someone came through the front gate, it makes sense they’d send someone to the back courtyard, which has no proper exit. This guy is here to block our path.

“Fuck.” Chi Qian cursed under her breath. That uncle of hers is ruthless. Before the assassin could tell them apart, she grabbed Shi Jinlan’s hand and ran. “Hold on tight!”

The silver crescent moon seemed to chase them as they fled. Their long hair flew behind them, tangling for a moment before the wind tore it apart again.

With summer approaching, the vegetation on the back of the mountain was dense. There was no clear path to follow. They pushed through dense thickets where new branches crisscrossed wantonly. The foliage swallowed their tracks but also blocked their path.

Worse, Shi Jinlan’s leg couldn’t hold out for long.

Just as Chi Qian nimbly cleared another obstacle, Shi Jinlan’s leg failed to lift. She lost her balance as something caught and scraped violently against her calf, sending her stumbling to the ground.

“Ah Lan!”

The hand she was holding was yanked down hard. Chi Qian stopped short and whipped around.

Shi Jinlan had fallen, her loose pant leg stained with leaves and twigs where the fabric had been torn open. The crimson blood was hard to see in the dim light, but a damp patch clung to her leg, slowly spreading across the dry fabric. A single green leaf cupped a small pool of blood.

Chi Qian was almost certain that Shi Jinlan’s left leg had a nasty gash.

Her left leg was already weak. Now she probably can’t even stand.

【Host, the assassin is catching up.】 Thirteen reported, its feline senses peering into the darkness far more effectively than any human’s.

Chi Qian stared into the boundless darkness, and her heart hammered in her chest.

It’s here. What was meant to happen is finally here.

“You should go. They only want me dead; they won’t kill you.” Shi Jinlan struggled to stand, but the moment her left foot touched the ground, a pain that felt like it was seeping into her very bones shot through her.

“Then sit tight right here,” Chi Qian said, humoring her as she began piling fallen leaves and vines over Shi Jinlan’s body.

The thin, pale moonlight reflected in Chi Qian’s eyes, and in those dark pupils, Shi Jinlan saw pure desolation.

“Chi Qian, what are you doing?!” Shi Jinlan demanded, her voice trembling with nerves.

“Running, of course.” Chi Qian smiled, looking down at Shi Jinlan, who was now almost completely camouflaged by the foliage.

The moonlight seemed to pool around them, burning with silver-gray flames. The shifting shadows on Shi Jinlan’s face painted a portrait of resentful anger and sorrow. For the first time, Chi Qian saw humility and grief in those proud eyes.

She doesn’t want me to leave.

In that instant, Chi Qian finally understood what it felt like for one’s heart to be cut by a knife¹⁰. Anyone else in this situation would choose to stay, to give the person before them the security they so desperately craved.

But I…

The next second, Shi Jinlan’s tightly gripped wrist was released.

Before Shi Jinlan could react, Chi Qian cruelly let go of the hand she had held the entire way. She commanded the cat-like Thirteen, “Thirteen, watch Ah Lan.”

“Meow~ (Rest assured, Host.)” Thirteen nodded. I will complete the task you’ve given me.

A selfish part of it thought that perhaps if its dear Host didn’t have to see Shi Jinlan at the very end, her pain would be lessened.

The rustle of footsteps on leaves grew more and more distant.

Shi Jinlan struggled to get up, but she could only watch helplessly as Chi Qian disappeared. Soon, the world fell so silent that the only sound left was her own frantic heartbeat.

She had long grown accustomed to her clumsy legs. She never complained. But in this moment, she hated them.

Why did it have to be my legs?

No…

Shi Jinlan pushed herself up with her arms, desperately trying to stand. She didn’t care that the pain from the wound was spreading fiercely through her body, or that forcing herself like this might cause irreversible damage to her leg.

“MEOW—!!”

The more she struggled, the more desperately Thirteen bit down on her clothes. Shi Jinlan had no idea how this cat, which couldn’t have weighed more than ten pounds, had so much strength. The two of them were locked in a stalemate.

Annoyance turned to violence. Shi Jinlan didn’t have the same patience for Thirteen as she did for Chi Qian. She reached out a trembling hand to push the cat, to hit it, to curse it, trying to intimidate this little creature that was so good at serving different dishes depending on the person¹¹. “Get lost! Are you just going to let your master die?!”

But Thirteen didn’t let go.

Of course I don’t want her to die. But she can only gain the right to live by dying in Shi Jinlan’s world.

They both wanted Chi Qian to live. It was a case of the same road, different destination.¹²

“You can’t stop me,” Shi Jinlan said coldly, her gloomy pupils filled with a stubborn determination.

And just like that, dragging Thirteen along with her, she forced her trembling, agonizingly painful leg to obey and stood up from the bushes.

I have to find Chi Qian. I can’t let Shi Cheng’s people kill her because of me. I can’t. I can’t!

That’s her… the person I can’t lose. The one I deeply love…

My lover.

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The author has something to say:

When I wrote the part about them climbing the wall, I suddenly realized—look, they didn’t even need to switch clothes on purpose QAQ. This damn fate.

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