So I Had No Choice But to Stop Being the White Moonlight – Chapter 59

I’m Not Going to Be the White Moonlight

Shi Jinlan unhurriedly placed her leg onto Chi Qian’s

The sunlight outside the window was piercing and scorching. The summer sun was brazen and domineering, as if nothing could halt its invasive march.

As always, it poured straight into the room, a scalding wave that was suppressed and forced to mingle with the pervasive humidity.

A fine mist filled the air, tracing the silhouette of Shi Jinlan as she reclined on the guifei couch¹ and adding a touch of decadence to the daylight.

The hand holding the leg cream was still suspended in mid-air. Following that straight line, one’s gaze would land on the leg she had propped up on the couch.

The short, narrow hem of the bath towel couldn’t fully cover her long legs. Droplets of water clung to them, tracing clear trails across her well-proportioned skin and suffusing its cool white with a warm, pinkish hue.

So beautiful.

Chi Qian’s heart stirred, a dense patter of rain drumming against it.

Who could resist such a temptation? The opportunity is right in front of me. How could it not make a person restless and ready to make a move?

But just as Chi Qian was about to accept the invitation Shi Jinlan offered, she suddenly came to her senses. Was it really okay for two strangers who had just had their “first meeting” today to do something like this?

In the hazy heat, Shi Jinlan’s eyes were also veiled in mist as she looked at Chi Qian.

Her expression was calm, but the depths of her eyes held an ambiguous invitation.

It was impossible that Shi Jinlan hadn’t noticed how illogical this was.

What is she trying to do?

“Miss Shi…”

“My hand is getting sore. And I still need to dry my hair.”

Just as Chi Qian was about to refuse, Shi Jinlan’s voice cut her off.

As if to remind her, the arm held high in the air gave a subtle but obvious tremble. Her palm was turned up in a gesture that seemed helpless, yet at the same time, it felt like she was trying to coax Chi Qian.

Chi Qian had never seen this side of Shi Jinlan and couldn’t withstand it at all. As if guided by ghosts and gods,² she walked over and took the leg cream from Shi Jinlan’s hand.

“I’ll go get a—”

“Sit here.”

Again, just as Chi Qian was about to speak, Shi Jinlan cut her off.

It seemed she had already thought this all out. As Shi Jinlan spoke, she drew back her outstretched leg and patted the spot she had just vacated for Chi Qian.

With the light tap of her palm, a plume of golden dust rose from the soft cushion in the sunlight.

The particles drifted up and down in the humid air, floating past the tip of Chi Qian’s nose, carrying Shi Jinlan’s scent.

That light, elegant fragrance had been washed clean by the water, purified to the extreme.

Chi Qian gently bit her lip. Looking at Shi Jinlan inviting her from the guifei couch, her mind had long since drifted.

Since I’ve already done what she asked, she thought, I might as well just go along with everything she says.

With that thought, Chi Qian calmly sat down on Shi Jinlan’s guifei couch.

She studied the leg cream in her hand and was about to ask Shi Jinlan how she was supposed to apply it with their legs stacked like this.

A long shadow swept through the light.

Shi Jinlan unhurriedly placed her leg onto Chi Qian’s.

That long, cool-white leg crossed Chi Qian’s entire line of sight. The water droplets that had clung to it were wiped clean by the movement, leaving only a pair of perfectly proportioned, flawless legs. They rested there, unrestrained and wanton, like a lazy cat leaning against Chi Qian without a care in the world.

Chi Qian froze completely, unable to believe what Shi Jinlan had just done.

Back on the island, Shi Jinlan had never taken the initiative to get this close to her. She was a typical feline, always cold and distant with people. How could she be so intimate with someone?

Especially an intimacy that bordered on ambiguous!

After not seeing her for so many years, how had Shi Jinlan developed such an inscrutable personality?

But thinking back carefully, the early signs of this wicked nature had already begun to show back on the island.

Chi Qian suddenly missed her old golden finger³ that let her see Shi Jinlan’s emotions. Even though it was sometimes wrong and gave her a false alarm, it was still better than sitting here now, completely unable to figure her out.

“Aren’t you going to start?”

Shi Jinlan watched Chi Qian’s expression as she unhurriedly picked up a towel and began to dry her hair. The long line of her fair neck tensed as she tilted her chin up slightly, a captivating intertwining of vitality and beauty.

The soft towel made a faint sound as it passed through her long hair.

Shasha, shasha.⁴ It felt as if it were rubbing against Chi Qian’s heart, making her throat tighten.

How could Chi Qian dare to make Shi Jinlan wait? She quickly snapped back to reality and opened the lid of the leg cream.

A delicate floral scent bloomed in the humid air, winding around her fingers as she scooped some out.

Chi Qian had never liked creams and lotions because, no matter how she smelled them, she always thought they had a chemical scent, a cheap fragrance.

Only now did she realize it wasn’t that the fragrances were cheap, but that her picky nose preferred scents built upon a foundation of stinking rich money.

Or perhaps, she was just used to chasing after such a scent.

Ah Qian, oh Ah Qian, what kind of princess syndrome is this?

She sighed silently.

Taking the opportunity to rub the cream on Shi Jinlan’s leg, Chi Qian secretly took a few more sniffs of the floral scent.

The leg cream, stored away from the light, hadn’t absorbed any of the sun’s heat. It felt cool against Chi Qian’s fingers.

But Shi Jinlan’s leg had just been rinsed with warm water, and her skin radiated a warmth higher than her normal body temperature.

As the two met, their past relationship of cold and hot was inverted in this moment, making the lines of Shi Jinlan’s leg feel exceptionally distinct under Chi Qian’s touch.

The cream quickly formed a thin film. Shi Jinlan’s skin was fine and smooth, and touching it felt like caressing a piece of high-quality mutton-fat jade.⁵

Chi Qian had thought Shi Jinlan’s legs were already beautiful back when she used to massage them.

But now, they were even better.

The flower that had been meticulously cared for since childhood had returned to its native soil; of course it would bloom even more beautifully.

A sense of pride, as if she were sharing in the glory,⁶ inexplicably rose in Chi Qian’s heart. She never thought Shi Jinlan could be considered the nurturing-type.⁷

But just as Chi Qian’s thoughts were wandering in gratification, her hand, applying the leg cream, suddenly paused.

She was slow to realize it, but a question dawned on her.

Is Shi Jinlan using this to test if my massage technique is the same as when I used to massage her legs when she couldn’t walk?

The moment this idea appeared in her head, a cold wind shot through her, making the hairs on her arms stand up.

She subconsciously lowered her head to look at Shi Jinlan, who was leaning against a soft pillow on the guifei couch with her eyes half-closed, seemingly lost in a dream. She appeared completely at ease, enjoying the service with lazy indulgence.

But Chi Qian knew this woman had a powerful sense of observation. Even like this, she could be deliberately watching her.

Chi Qian looked down at the hand stroking Shi Jinlan’s leg, trying hard to remember if she had used the same techniques as before.

But how could she possibly remember? Her attention had been entirely focused on Shi Jinlan’s leg.

Beauty truly leads one astray!⁸

Beauty really does lead one astray!

Chi Qian was screaming internally when a scar crossed her line of sight.

The distinct mark traced a raised line under her fingertips as she applied the cream.

And it was on Shi Jinlan’s left leg.

Chi Qian’s movements, which had just regained their composure, faltered once more.

Her hand recognized the scar before her mind did. As the white cream was rubbed in, she used a public pretense for private gain,⁹ her fingers uncontrollably tracing its ferocious and terrifying outline.

“For a while, I couldn’t walk. But I recovered later. Still, my left leg couldn’t function like a normal person’s for a very long time. Do you know why?”

Just then, Shi Jinlan’s voice rang out abruptly.

Chi Qian, a coveter harboring evil intentions,¹⁰ was startled by the sound and immediately looked up.

In the sunlight, Shi Jinlan was propping her head up with one hand, watching her with a placid gaze.

Her half-dry hair hung beside her face, a sharp black line sweeping past the corner of her eye and merging with her dark pupil. She had been watching, silent and still, for who knows how long.

A pair of eyes like that seemed capable of seeing through everything.

With a guilty conscience like a thief’s,¹¹ Chi Qian’s heart clenched.

As for Shi Jinlan’s question, she thought she knew the answer.

But she couldn’t say it.

The current her wasn’t supposed to know Shi Jinlan. She could only play along, acting as the one to broach the subject of the past. “Why?”

Hearing Chi Qian take the bait, Shi Jinlan seemed satisfied, yet not entirely so. She shifted her head slightly on her hand and continued, “Because one night, assassins were after me, and someone left me in a bush. My left leg had a huge gash at the time.”

Shi Jinlan paused.

Her eyes, which had been lazily downcast, lifted completely. Like a waking feline, her dark pupils glinted with danger. “Tell me, do you think she felt I was a burden?”

The question hit Chi Qian like a physical blow.

It wasn’t because of the danger in Shi Jinlan’s eyes, but because of the thought she revealed with the question.

How could she think that I thought she was a burden back then?

The spot over Chi Qian’s heart contracted sharply, and an inexplicable sadness washed over her.

She didn’t understand why she was reacting this way. What happened back then was just part of following the plot for her. She hadn’t found Shi Jinlan to be a burden, nor did she have any other strong emotions about it… right?

What’s wrong with me?

I just want to clarify that I didn’t think that, so why am I so sad? It’s as if I’ve been misunderstood by someone important.

How could Shi Jinlan be someone important to me?

But… Shi Jinlan really was someone important to her now.

She had to stop Shi Jinlan from destroying the world, which meant she also had to clear away the shadows in her heart.

Although Chi Qian’s inner thoughts didn’t align with her mission’s objective, they were different paths to the same destination.¹² The heavy, stuffy feeling in her chest eased considerably. She just had to figure out how to guide Shi Jinlan away from that line of thinking.

“How could that be possible, Miss Shi?” Chi Qian smiled at Shi Jinlan. “What if that person was trying to save you?”

“Is that so?”

Hearing this, Shi Jinlan raised an eyebrow.

She slowly sat up, looked Chi Qian in the eye, and asked, “Then how do you think she was going to save me?”

“Huh?” Chi Qian froze for a sluggish moment.

She felt like Shi Jinlan wanted her to produce a specific correct answer. But since she already knew the correct answer, her attempt at guessing became extremely cautious.

She wasn’t afraid of guessing wrong.

She was afraid of guessing right.

“I… how would I know? Miss Shi is surrounded by smart people. It definitely wouldn’t be what I’m thinking,” Chi Qian said with an awkward laugh, her humble words tinged with flattery.

“Smart.”

With a chi,¹³ Shi Jinlan laughed. The look in her eyes grew deeper as she gazed at Chi Qian.

She repeated the keyword from her sentence, her tone utterly calm yet laced with a tragic contempt.

“That smart idiot pretended to be me to lure the assassins away. She ended up falling off a cliff.”

A few strands of long hair slid down the side of Shi Jinlan’s face, hiding her expression.

The lonely sunlight cast Shi Jinlan’s shadow on the floor. The thin bath towel was wrapped around her body, her sharp collarbones forming two hollows that caught the falling strands of hair.

“Tell me, wasn’t she stupid?”

Through the curtain of dark hair, Shi Jinlan’s eyes locked onto Chi Qian.

That dark, oppressive feeling overpowered the midsummer sun. Chi Qian felt as if her heart was being squeezed in Shi Jinlan’s hand.

She couldn’t quite remember the feeling of jumping, nor could she recall what state of mind she’d been in when she did it.

Chi Qian didn’t know why Shi Jinlan was saying this, or if she was testing her. Suddenly, she felt like an outsider.

She was standing outside the story, watching a Shi Jinlan who was too deeply entangled to extricate herself,¹⁴ and her heart ached with her pain.

Yes, Chi Qian could feel the inconsolable sorrow in Shi Jinlan’s words.

“She… must have loved you very much.” As if compelled by some unseen force, Chi Qian offered a word of comfort.

Hearing this, Shi Jinlan first froze.

Then she smiled, a satisfied smile, and lay back down on the guifei couch. “Yes, she loved me very much…”

“Didn’t she?”

The final word turned the statement into a question.

As she spoke, Shi Jinlan looked at Chi Qian.

Her eyes were filled with a morbid sadness, her dark hair splayed across her face, as if she were interrogating Chi Qian with that very question.

Chi Qian’s heart skipped a beat. Did Shi Jinlan figure me out?

But I’m clearly dead. Shi Jinlan wouldn’t believe in something as supernatural as this, would she…?

Chi Qian wasn’t sure.

Just now, listening to Shi Jinlan talk about the past, the look in her eyes was sinister and sorrowful, with the air of an unhinged psycho.¹⁵

Chi Qian was genuinely afraid that Shi Jinlan would do something crazy to her just because she looked exactly like her white moonlight.¹⁶

She’d read so many novels where the unhinged psycho protagonists did exactly that to their stand-ins.¹⁷

No, this is not fun at all!

Chi Qian felt more and more strongly that she couldn’t stay here any longer. She had to find a chance to leave and discuss a long-term plan with Thirteen.

The leg cream on her fingers had already dried, its moisturizing feeling seeping into her skin.

She silently looked at the cream in her hand, then calmly applied a few more strokes for Shi Jinlan before saying, “Miss Shi, the leg cream is all applied. If there’s nothing else, I’ll be going.”

“Where are you going?” Shi Jinlan looked up at Chi Qian, not moving the leg that was still resting on her.

“Home. I have to work tomorrow,” Chi Qian answered earnestly.

Shi Jinlan met her earnest expression with an equally earnest one of her own. “Weren’t you put under investigation with suspended pay?¹⁸ Where are you going to work tomorrow?”

Chi Qian’s pupils trembled. She couldn’t believe Shi Jinlan was gathering information on her even faster than Thirteen.

So she knows that this Chi Qian isn’t that Chi Qian… right?

Just as she was thinking this, Shi Jinlan shifted the leg resting on hers.

The slender leg brushed almost imperceptibly against the hem of Chi Qian’s skirt. The thin fabric offered no resistance; in fact, it acted as an accomplice, rubbing against Chi Qian’s skin, amplifying Shi Jinlan’s every move and blatantly toying with her nerves.

“Miss Chi, are you aware that if this matter isn’t handled well, you could go to prison?” Shi Jinlan propped her head on her hand, reminding Chi Qian with great interest.

Chi Qian’s heart was pounding wildly, whether because of her potential fate or because of Shi Jinlan’s restless leg.

She had just arrived in this world and hadn’t figured anything out yet. All she could do was offer a weak explanation. “I didn’t do it.”

“Do you have proof?” Shi Jinlan asked directly.

Chi Qian was speechless.

She hadn’t found the person who framed her in her original world, and now, in this one, she still had no idea who was plotting against her in the shadows.

“Miss Chi.”

The polite address was carried on a puff of warm air that landed right next to Chi Qian’s ear.

Shi Jinlan had sat up from the guifei couch again. She leaned in close, her body tilted slightly, and whispered in her ear, “Did you know that this very situation you’re experiencing now… someone once asked me about it?”

Chi Qian’s heart leaped in shock.

How could I not remember?

I asked that one question and was punished by the System. I got so many nosebleeds!

But why would Shi Jinlan bring it up…?

Her heart drumming, Chi Qian slowly turned her head to look at Shi Jinlan.

What greeted her was Shi Jinlan’s hand reaching out to press against her lips.

The sunlight swirled around them, casting a halo around Shi Jinlan’s approaching face.

Her warm breath fell gently beside Chi Qian’s ear. The curve of her waist, dipped from leaning over, was like that of an alluring demon.

“If you can satisfy me, I can solve any problem for you.”

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The author has something to say:

Lanlan: Transforms into a seductive little kitty, tail held high. Doesn’t Ah Qian want to give it a little pet~

Ah Qian: Nosebleed

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