So I Had No Choice But to Stop Being the White Moonlight – Chapter 6

How About I Rub It for You?

Chi Qian ran to Chi Qingyan’s room at the speed of a hundred-meter dash.

It was as if Chi Qingyan had been prepared; the moment Chi Qian knocked twice, he emerged from the room, draping a coat over his shoulders.

“Miss Shen is having an attack, isn’t she?” Chi Qingyan asked.

“Yes.” Chi Qian’s head was like pounding garlic¹, helping Chi Qingyan lift his medical kit, terrified that Shi Jinlan would die if she were even a second too late.

“Her body is so cold, like a block of ice to the touch,” Chi Qian said as they walked, describing Shi Jinlan’s symptoms to Chi Qingyan. “I also think she must be in pain. She’s curled up into a ball.”

Listening to Chi Qian, Chi Qingyan gave her a deep look.

His granddaughter was exceptionally sharp tonight, her description orderly and logical, completely different from how she used to be.

“Grandpa.” Chi Qian didn’t notice Chi Qingyan’s gaze. She took a few quick steps to the doorway and pushed the door open for him.

When she had left, Chi Qian had worried that a sudden bright light would irritate Shi Jinlan, so she had only turned on a small night lamp.

A dim yellow light enveloped Shi Jinlan. She was still curled up on the bed, her body taut. Her pain was soundless. Her long, loose hair was stuck to her face, which was slick with a layer of cold sweat.

Chi Qingyan watched from the doorway and took a deep breath, though it was unclear if it was due to the current situation or Shi Jinlan’s astonishing willpower.

Chi Qian had already opened the medical kit for him and taken out the needle case. He removed the needle roll from the case and selected the longest silver needle from within.

Chi Qingyan said, “Come over and hold her down. I need to perform acupuncture.”

“Okay.” Chi Qian nodded and immediately sat at the head of the bed. After saying, “Pardon the intrusion, Miss Shen,” she boldly reached her hands toward Shi Jinlan.

Because of the attack, the black flames on Shi Jinlan’s body were also struggling, the licks of fire rustling as they rushed toward Chi Qian.

Chi Qian knew these flames wouldn’t harm her, and she used all her strength to press down on Shi Jinlan’s inwardly curled shoulders.

With that solid contact, Chi Qian once again felt that needle-like chill.

She hadn’t been able to tell with the lights off earlier, but now, with the black flames clearly winding around her fingers, she was startled to discover that this abnormal pain she was feeling seemed to be transmitted by the black flames.

She could feel Shi Jinlan’s emotions by touching this fire.

No wonder she had felt so awful when Shi Jinlan grabbed her yesterday. She had thought she was simply afraid of her.

This stupid golden finger², it actually has this kind of function?

“Ngh…”

The silver needle entered Shi Jinlan’s calf. She bit her lip hard, unable to stop a muffled groan from escaping.

It was a rare display of emotion from her. Chi Qian, holding her shoulders at her side, couldn’t help but feel her own arm twitch in response.

Pain.

It really hurt so much.

It wasn’t the pain of the poison flaring up or the needle piercing her skin.

It was the agony she felt as the flames sank into the back of her hand.

In a pitch-black world, it felt as if vicious ghosts were clinging to Chi Qian’s side, screaming for their lives, clamoring about their hatred and resentment.

There was also the heavy, accumulated pain of countless years, buried beneath a glacier, impossible for anyone to glimpse.

The cold flames were like blades. Made tangible by the function granted by the system, they sliced at Chi Qian’s arm, one cut after another. Though there were no wounds, the pain was real and unbearable.

And Shi Jinlan had been living with this kind of pain all along.

Chi Qian’s expression tightened as she silently looked at Shi Jinlan.

The poison’s flare-up had thrown her into a state of chaos. A vein throbbed at her temple, forming a slender, violent mountain range on her pale skin. The corners of her eyes had turned red, dyeing her weak expression with a bewitching color.

Even though she clearly looked like she was in agony, she never made a sound.

Why…

What exactly had Shi Jinlan gone through in the past to forge her current impassive, forbearing, and cold demeanor?

The warm yellow light spilled onto the sickbed, where dust motes floated and danced in the beam.

Shi Jinlan lay beside Chi Qian, the golden light falling on her long, thick eyelashes. Even in her pale and frail state, it couldn’t hide the untainted purity about her, like a celestial being³ banished to the mortal realm to undergo a tribulation⁴.

That was it, undergoing a tribulation.

Chi Qian slowly shifted her gaze, landing reluctantly on Shi Jinlan’s legs, which were full of silver needles.

She would be forced to accept the reality of her disability, learn to live with her crippled legs, and move about freely.

She would also hold that gem-encrusted cane and, without getting a single drop of blood on her sleeves, kill her way back to the Shi family, forcing her uncle into a dead end and crushing the male and female leads with no power to resist, all without the effort of blowing away dust⁵.

How strange.

She had clearly known all of this, known Shi Jinlan’s future, yet right now she still felt so crushed she could hardly breathe.

Chi Qian didn’t like this. No matter how hard her life had been in the past, she had never suffered like this.

She felt from the bottom of her heart that Shi Jinlan shouldn’t have to experience something so cruel. No one should.

Emotional pain couldn’t be resolved in a moment, but at the very least, she could make her a little more comfortable during the torment of the poison’s attack.

Chi Qian suddenly remembered when she was little and had a fever that made her whole body ache. She had been crying nonstop, and her mother had held her body just like this, then placed a hand on her forehead to stroke it.

Again, and again.

Her mother’s calloused palms, a result of long-term labor, had scraped against her tender skin, but all she felt was an incomparable gentleness that soothed her in the midst of her illness.

Chi Qian lightly clenched her free hand, then tentatively tried to do the same, stroking Shi Jinlan’s forehead.

She didn’t know how long the attack had been going on; her forehead was covered in sweat.

Chi Qian shifted further onto the bed, allowing Shi Jinlan to lean against her chest. She ran her fingers through her hair, comforting her over and over. “It’ll be over soon. Just bear with it a little longer.”

Chi Qian’s palm was naturally warm, and the sensation on Shi Jinlan’s forehead was more distinct than the pain from the attack.

Her consciousness was already hazy. Hearing a voice, she subconsciously leaned toward the sound, as if she knew it was the source of this warmth.

As Chi Qian did her best to soothe Shi Jinlan, a heavy breath suddenly puffed against her nightdress.

Steamy and lingering, warm and damp.

The feeling was like a scene playing out all over again, yet under the lamplight, it felt far more real than it had by the sea.

Cold sweat soaked Chi Qian’s clothes. The chill was mixed with the warmth transmitted from the other’s skin, a complicated sensation settling on her lower abdomen.

Chi Qian froze completely. She didn’t dare call this ambiguous.

But Shi Jinlan’s face was pressed against her belly, and that trembling breath was a hundred times hotter than the touch of the black flames, sometimes heavy, sometimes light, erratically teasing Chi Qian’s fragile nerves.

Heavens, her grandpa was still in the room!

Chi Qian frantically chanted in her head, I am Liu Xiahui! I can hold a woman in my lap without being stirred!⁶ The one who’s not clear-headed is Shi Jinlan, not me!…

After sitting rigidly for a while, Chi Qian found that the pain transmitted by the black flames was gradually lessening. She didn’t know if it was her comforting or her grandfather’s needles that had worked.

Chi Qian looked down at Shi Jinlan, who was leaning against her, and saw that her tense brow had relaxed.

Her ragged breathing had also returned to a regular rhythm, each exhale brushing against her.

“It’s done.”

Chi Qian gently stroked Shi Jinlan’s hair. At that moment, Chi Qingyan also finished applying the needles.

He looked up at Chi Qian and, seeing her unchanged expression, couldn’t help but praise her. “It’s rare to see you so composed. I’d say you’ve matured.”

Hearing this, Chi Qian very disrespectfully let out a cowardly sigh of relief. “I was scared to death, Grandpa.”

Chi Qingyan shook his head with a smile and patted her shoulder. “Keep up the good work.”

“I have no choice but to keep it up.” Chi Qian knew that Shi Jinlan’s poison would act up repeatedly until it was cured. She looked at the other woman’s now peaceful, sleeping form, her own expression weary and helpless.

No matter who it was, whether or not it was her target⁷ to win over, if she could save them, she should do her best.

With that thought, Chi Qian blinked away the helplessness in her eyes.

She glanced at the clock on the wall and said to Chi Qingyan, “Grandpa, you should go back to sleep. I’ll watch over Shi… Miss Shen. I’ll get you if anything happens.”

“There shouldn’t be any more trouble. It’s only four. You should get some more sleep too,” Chi Qingyan said.

“Okay.” Chi Qian nodded, proactively picked up Chi Qingyan’s medical kit, and walked him back to his room first.

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Waves crashed against the reef, the muffled sound sinking into the depths of the sea.

In her dream, Shi Jinlan returned to that ocean.

The bone-chilling cold was even more intense than last time. The waves scrambled to drill into her body, as if trying to tear her apart and devour her.

Pain radiated from within her, coiling around her legs inch by inch, constantly reminding her of the helpless situation she couldn’t escape.

Since ancient times, the victor is crowned king, the loser is branded a bandit⁸. This was the price of her failure.

She had no choice but to endure it, to grit her teeth and swallow all this pain, waiting for the day she could return it in spades…

Hatred clung to her hazy consciousness, dragging her down into ruin.

Suddenly, a familiar warmth shielded her from behind, catching her sinking body.

The warmth enveloped her cold, damp form, and for a moment, it was as if she were back when she first fell into the sea.

The pain was walled off. The ocean current was like an invisible hand, lifting her neck and gently stroking her messy hair.

A magical sensation brushed past her cheek, making the salty seawater that had been pressed against her lips gentle and soft.

Shi Jinlan could feel the presence of oxygen. A warmth that seemed to have been melted by the sun grazed her lips, delivering a steady stream of life-giving air to her as she was about to suffocate.

And with it came a peace of mind that could soothe all her emotions.

Although the beginning wasn’t pleasant, the rest was the most peaceful sleep Shi Jinlan had had in years.

Seagulls circled above the island, beginning their day’s activities in an orderly, natural way.

Sunlight streamed unimpeded through the cheap white curtains into the small bedroom of the west house. The air stirred gently; everything was bright and soft.

Shi Jinlan blinked slowly, feeling an inexplicable sense of calm.

She expressionlessly surveyed the bedroom, then turned her head to see Chi Qian keeping watch by her bed.

This person was truly strange. There was a bed, but she wouldn’t sleep in it, insisting on sitting in a chair instead.

She was hunched over, slumped against the narrow edge of the bed next to her, looking both awkward and pitiful.

Shi Jinlan was indifferent. She disliked this kind of self-pitying display of concern.

But whether it was disdain or incomprehension, her gaze remained fixed on Chi Qian.

The good weather after the storm could last for many days. The room was filled with brilliant sunshine.

Light leaked through the gap in the middle of the curtains, landing squarely on Chi Qian’s back in a shimmering golden sheet, illuminating her fair little face.

Shi Jinlan vaguely remembered that last night, when she was being tormented to the point of confusion, it was this person who had held her down.

They say that sensations in dreams are reflections of reality.

And she had actually felt a rare sense of peace because of this person.

She had even dreamed again of the one thing she wanted to remember least.

——Her memory, like her current gaze, was going against her will.

So what on earth happened in the sea that day that made her unable to forget it?

Shi Jinlan’s brow furrowed, her expression complicated as she sat up in bed.

She had thought this person was strange from the first moment she saw her, and now even more so. She reached out a hand, wanting to turn the person’s face toward her for a proper inspection.

Her long, slender fingers carried a chill as they unhurriedly brushed aside the hair blocking Chi Qian’s face.

Then they cupped her chin…

The strands of hair tickled her face, and the head in Shi Jinlan’s vision suddenly moved.

Before she could react, in the next second, Chi Qian naturally pillowed her head on the outstretched hand, her entire face pressing into her palm.

Shi Jinlan was instantly stunned.

She looked at Chi Qian in disbelief, while the person still in the throes of sleep seemed to think she had found a very soft and comfortable pillow. She rested against it, snuggled into it, and even naturally rubbed her face against it.

An electric current suddenly shot out from Shi Jinlan’s palm, spreading fiercely through her five fingers.

Numbing and hot, it was relentless, as if it were about to launch an assault on her heart.

Shi Jinlan’s pupils trembled slightly, the sensation in her palm completely occupied by Chi Qian.

She rarely had contact with people, let alone a situation like this.

So she didn’t know if everyone’s face was like this person’s—fair and soft, looking like it would turn red with a single pinch, the very picture of someone easy to bully.

The island was busy yet quiet in the morning. The shadow of a bird flitted past the window. In the flickering light and shadow, a clumsy feeling slowly grew in Shi Jinlan’s palm.

And Chi Qian was completely unaware of all this, sleeping soundly.

Her body had finally found a comfortable position, and her dreams were filled with a peaceful breeze.

But gradually, the wind began to blow more violently.

Pitch-black sand and dust, like a storm that could swallow heaven and earth, rushed toward her from the distance. The wind was biting, and vicious ghosts shrieked.

This terrifying scene jolted Chi Qian awake.

What was even more terrifying was that the first thing she saw when she opened her eyes was Shi Jinlan, sitting by the bed.

Much of yesterday’s vigilance and ruthlessness was gone from the other woman’s eyes. She was just looking at her peacefully, her shoulders exposed to the air—slender and fair, with a few broken scars on her arm. Further down was the hand she was using as a pillow.

Whose hand?

The, the hand she was using as a pillow?!

The grogginess on Chi Qian’s face was visibly replaced by terror.

In her line of sight, the black flames on Shi Jinlan’s palm were burning slowly. When she abruptly sat up, they even seemed to follow her with some reluctance.

Just how long had she been sleeping on it!

If she didn’t have nightmares, who would!

Chi Qian sucked in a sharp breath. Although she didn’t think she was such a restless sleeper, she still opened her mouth to apologize to Shi Jinlan. “I, I didn’t…”

But Shi Jinlan gave her no chance to apologize. Her thin lips parted, cutting her off. “It’s asleep.”

She looked at Chi Qian with great interest, holding out her hand, and asked in a faint tone, “What are you going to do about it?”

The question was clearly directed at her, a demand for compensation.

Chi Qian stared motionlessly at Shi Jinlan’s hand and said tentatively, with great difficulty, “How about… I rub it for you?”

As her words fell, Shi Jinlan said nothing.

She only spread the hand in front of Chi Qian a little wider.

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The author has something to say:

Yeah, what on earth happened in the sea that day that has our Lanlan so fixated on it~

Q: Why is it tagged switch/versatile, but Lanlan leans towards being the uke/bottom?

A: Because Lanlan doesn’t like to make the first move, hahahaha.

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