So I Had No Choice But to Stop Being the White Moonlight – Chapter 62

I’m Not Going to Be the White Moonlight

“Don’t be too thin. This feels just right.”

The sun was just beginning to rise, the morning light still veiled in a soft haze left over from the night.

Shi Jinlan’s voice was like a wind chime hanging by the window. It rang in Chi Qian’s ear with a clear, crystalline dang lang¹.

Just from her tone, Chi Qian could tell she was in a good mood.

She tilted her head up at Shi Jinlan. In the daylight, her face was also shrouded in that same soft haze.

The mist seemed to gather, then suddenly disperse.

In a daze, the image of Shi Jinlan seemed to overlap with a shadow in Chi Qian’s mind, one that was blurred by a white film². They felt like they had merged into one.

An out-of-place tenderness from that shadow imprinted itself on Shi Jinlan’s brow, yet somehow, it wasn’t entirely out of place.

Chi Qian found herself adapting to this gentleness far more quickly than her rigid impression of Shi Jinlan should have allowed.

So strange.

“Still not awake?”

Shi Jinlan spoke again, interrupting Chi Qian’s thoughts.

Chi Qian quickly came to her senses, and the Shi Jinlan in her line of sight sharpened into focus.

The shadow in her mind always fled the moment she tried to grasp it, and this time was no exception.

She just stared at the woman standing before her, thinking, How is that even possible…

“No, I’m awake,” Chi Qian replied.

She said it for Shi Jinlan, but it was also a warning to herself.

—Snap out of it. How could that shadow be Shi Jinlan?

Her brain seemed capable of processing only one thing at a time. A cascade of new events had kept interrupting her earlier panic.

Now, finally, the panic had its turn again.

Chi Qian stared at the person who was supposed to be in a car on the way to the airport. The person who was now standing right in front of her. A delayed wave of panic washed over her, and she shot up in bed with a sharp ceng³. “Ah Lan, it’s after five! Your flight! What are you going to do? You haven’t even left yet. Do you need to reschedule?”

The name “Ah Lan” had slipped out with unnerving ease in her anxious state.

Shi Jinlan took in her flustered appearance, an amused smile tucked away in her eyes. She nodded. “I do, in fact, have to reschedule.”

Her voice was calm and unhurried as she earnestly explained, “I slept exceptionally well last night. If it weren’t for your alarm, I almost wouldn’t have woken up at all.”

Chi Qian was confused. “My alarm?”

Then, shocked, “My alarm went off?!”

Shi Jinlan nodded, looking slightly pained by the memory. “You don’t need to set so many alarms in the future. You’re not responsible for my daily routine.”

Chi Qian blinked, bewildered. “Then who is…”

Dang dang⁴.

Before she could finish, a knock sounded at the door.

Through the frosted glass, the housekeeper’s proper, professional silhouette was visible. “Miss, it’s time to get up.”

Still completely out of the loop, Chi Qian couldn’t understand why the housekeeper was waking Shi Jinlan now.

Didn’t Shi Jinlan have a five o’clock flight?

Did the housekeeper oversleep too?

Or… “You rescheduled?”

Chi Qian finally caught on, looking up at Shi Jinlan.

The sunlight through the window brightened the room, casting a glow on Chi Qian’s face that made her dark pupils look perfectly round.

Watching her, Shi Jinlan felt an itch in her hand. She couldn’t resist reaching out to pinch Chi Qian’s cheek. “Mhm. Moved it to eight.”

The room’s temperature was rising. Chi Qian had just been resting on Shi Jinlan’s pillow, and her hair still carried the faint fragrance left behind.

The sweet scent wafted over, carried on the shifting shadows, brushing against the tip of her nose again and again.

Shi Jinlan’s gesture felt so natural. The cool side of her fingers pressed against Chi Qian’s cheek, slowly caressing it.

Chi Qian froze. Shi Jinlan’s presence once again filled her entire field of vision, and this time, she didn’t even know how her heart was supposed to beat.

It was an uninvited touch, one that could have seemed like casual dalliance.

But coming from Shi Jinlan, the action didn’t feel the least bit profane.

The morning light washed over her eyes, but their inky color remained unlit, not even by a fraction, hiding an emotion far nobler than mere playfulness within their inscrutable depths.

Chi Qian lightly bit her lip, her breath laced with Shi Jinlan’s scent.

The coolness was a precious thing in the midsummer heat. She could hear the soft sound of Shi Jinlan’s fingers stroking her skin and saw the satisfied look in her eyes. Then, Shi Jinlan suddenly commented on the feel of her cheek. “Don’t be too thin. This feels just right.⁵”

What does she mean, just right?

Chi Qian had always thought her face was a little chubby. She preferred a face like Song Tang’s—gaunt and sharp, projecting an untamable arrogance. With imperious eyes and brows, she looked like someone not good to provoke.

Wouldn’t it be better to be thinner?

Isn’t Shi Jinlan herself that type?

Then why was there such a heavy melancholy in Shi Jinlan’s eyes when she said that?

“Miss—”

Chi Qian didn’t understand, but before she could figure it out, the sound of the door opening cut through the air.

Seeing that Shi Jinlan hadn’t responded, the housekeeper figured enough time had passed and pushed the door open as she usually did.

But the sight that greeted her was not her usual one.

Her young miss was already awake, standing by the bed and leaning over to caress the face of the Miss Chi she had brought home yesterday.

Oh, hell.

For a fleeting moment, the housekeeper’s perpetually calm expression cracked.

She quickly averted her gaze, retreated, and spoke to Shi Jinlan from behind the newly closed door. “My apologies, Miss. I thought you were still asleep.”

“I’ll be down in a moment,” Shi Jinlan replied coolly.

The housekeeper might not have heard it, but Chi Qian did.

Just before Shi Jinlan spoke, a faint whoosh of air passed her ear, like an irritated sigh.

After that sigh, the eyes that Chi Qian had found so gentle settled into a profound stillness, like embers that had seemingly burned to ash.

Shi Jinlan had reverted to the person everyone else spoke of. She answered the housekeeper, then withdrew the hand from Chi Qian’s face.

With brisk movements, Shi Jinlan picked up the dress she had chosen earlier.

The sound of a zipper coincided with her voice. Chi Qian found herself compelled to watch and listen as Shi Jinlan slipped the dress on.

“Housekeeper Chen will prepare the contract for you today.”

Shi Jinlan stepped into the black dress. The cool white of her skin was slowly consumed by the black fabric, its shimmering material clinging to her slender figure.

“Once you sign it, our employment relationship will be official.”

The thin straps slid over her arms, tracing the smooth lines up to her shoulders. The unzipped back of the dress hung loosely, offering a fleeting glimpse of her shoulder blades, delicate as butterfly wings⁶.

“But your salary will be calculated starting from yesterday. It will be in your account tomorrow.”

The sound of money echoed in Chi Qian’s ear as the zipper was pulled shut.

She stared, entranced, at Shi Jinlan’s back, unsure if it was the woman’s words or something else entirely that held her captive.

“Also.” With that, the fully dressed Shi Jinlan turned to face her.

Chi Qian hastily tore her brazen gaze away from Shi Jinlan’s body and tried to look composed. “What?”

“Turn off your alarms from now on. They’re so loud,” Shi Jinlan complained, a hint of helplessness in her voice.

It was as if she had truly managed to get a rare good night’s sleep, and was therefore particularly determined to take something to heart⁷ about the alarm that had disturbed her sweet dreams.

Chi Qian never expected Shi Jinlan to be so bothered by such a small thing that she’d mention it twice.

It’s… actually kind of cute.

The thought popped into her head. She smiled at Shi Jinlan. “Sorry about that, Ah Lan. It won’t happen again.”

“If there is a next time, I won’t stop at just turning it off,” Shi Jinlan said, following her lead.

She gazed at Chi Qian, who was still sitting on the bed, holding her stare for a long moment.

No one knew what she was thinking. After a second or two, she turned and left to get on with her day.

---

The sun climbed into the sky, tracing the line of the distant mountains until the world was bathed in bright light.

A breeze rustled through the lush trees flanking the building below. Amidst the rustling of the leaves, Chi Qian heard a car door shut, followed by a faint voice that seemed to say, “Take care, Miss.”

Lying in bed, Chi Qian knew Shi Jinlan was gone.

She was just wondering if she should get up and move around when a voice sounded in her ear: 【Host?】

The voice was faint, and very cautious.

Chi Qian sat bolt upright. 【Thirteen!】

【Host—!!!】 Thirteen exclaimed, sounding thrilled. 【I finally connected to you!! I thought I’d lost contact with you for the rest of my life!!】

Chi Qian was just as confused. She brought up Thirteen’s spotty connection from the day before. 【What exactly happened yesterday? You couldn’t reach me? Was it our fault, or is there something wrong with this world? Did the other task-takers have this problem?】

Faced with her barrage of questions, Thirteen could only give a vague answer this time. 【That’s what I don’t understand. None of the previous task-takers ever reported this.】

【I suspect it’s because of Shi Jinlan. As long as she’s around, the signal becomes negligible, and I can’t communicate with you properly.】

【Besides, almost none of the previous task-takers ever came into contact with Shi Jinlan, so this error was never reported.】

“God.”

Chi Qian’s brow furrowed tightly as she lambasted the System. 【I told you this stupid system of yours was unreliable. You just had to give her a white moonlight⁸, and now look! You’ve created a massive bug!】

【It’s because of you, Host,】 Thirteen mumbled under its breath.

Chi Qian felt deeply wronged. 【How is this my fault? I was forced by you guys to be Shi Jinlan’s white moonlight in the first place!】

【But…】 Thirteen wanted to argue, but it stopped itself.

It wanted to tell Chi Qian that after every mission, the degree of influence on the target varied.

And Shi Jinlan’s corruption had been thoroughly influenced by her.

They had experienced so many unforgettable things on that island.

Shi Jinlan wasn’t the only one who had fallen in love.

But Chi Qian had no memory of any of it.

When Chi Qian returned from the Main System, Thirteen had sensed that the great Main System had taken away her feelings for Shi Jinlan.

Thirteen had longed to tell Chi Qian the truth, but this way did make it easier for her to adapt to life as part of the System.

Task-takers must not develop feelings for their targets.

Just as a system should not develop feelings for its host.

Its host was luckier than it was.

【The host has a point.】

Unable to tell her the truth, Thirteen conceded to her disdain for the System for the first time. Then it added a warning: 【But these are things that can’t be changed. Host, you’ll have to be even more careful around Shi Jinlan from now on. I won’t be able to remind you at all times.】

【I know,】 Chi Qian nodded seriously.

The System was useless against Shi Jinlan. From here on out, she was truly on her own.

【Besides, the host is way better than all the other task-takers in the System! You got close to Shi Jinlan right from the start! It’s a huge success!】 Heavy topics were always bad for morale, so Thirteen expertly switched to patting a horse’s butt⁹.

【That’s just you guys being slippery¹⁰,】 Chi Qian retorted. 【I’m starting to suspect you held off on restoring my original appearance just for this very day!】

【If it weren’t for this face…】 As she spoke, Chi Qian raised a hand to her own cheek, just as Shi Jinlan had done.

The fragrance that had lingered on her skin was fading, and her mood sank with it.

She figured the main reason she’d gotten so close to Shi Jinlan so easily was because her body and face were identical to the past.

Shi Jinlan’s feelings were all for the version of her that had played the white moonlight.

But she wasn’t that white moonlight anymore.

She was not the white moonlight.

And she had no intention of becoming one.

Chi Qian had her pride.

She didn’t know why she was getting so worked up over this, but a bitter taste filled her mouth.

Dang dang.

A rhythmic knock on the door broke her out of her gloomy thoughts.

Chi Qian looked toward the door and called out politely, “Who is it?”

“It’s me, Miss Chi,” the housekeeper said from the other side. “Is it convenient for me to come in?”

“Yes, of course.”

This was her current boss; Chi Qian wouldn’t dare be disrespectful. She immediately got out of bed to greet the housekeeper.

The two of them ended up at the desk in Shi Jinlan’s room.

The housekeeper held a thick contract, which she placed in front of Chi Qian. “This is per Miss’s instructions, Miss Chi.”

With that, she flipped the contract to the last page and unhurriedly uncapped a fountain pen. She set the cap on the desk and held the pen expectantly for Chi Qian.

Shi Jinlan’s name was already signed next to Party A¹¹, written in a strong, elegant script.

All that was missing was her own name.

Chi Qian had never received such professional treatment before. She took the pen and, without bothering to read the tedious contract, flipped straight to the final page.

We’ve already entered into an “after sleeping”¹² arrangement, what else do I need to care about?

With that thought, Chi Qian summoned the best penmanship of her life and signed her name next to Shi Jinlan’s.

Though her handwriting couldn’t compare to Shi Jinlan’s, it was still neat and pretty.

Chi Qian looked with satisfaction at her name sitting next to Shi Jinlan’s and handed the pen back. “All signed. Thank you for making a special trip.”

“It’s my duty.” The housekeeper took the pen, collected Shi Jinlan’s copy, and then flipped Chi Qian’s copy to the third page. She pointed to a series of clauses. “These are the specific requirements for Miss’s Personal Life Assistant. I trust Miss Chi will remember them and not violate any of the terms.”

“Oh…” Seeing the housekeeper’s serious tone, Chi Qian leaned in to read.

There were many rules, but they were all reasonable requirements for a personal assistant, including strict confidentiality about Party A’s information, no theft, and unconditional withdrawal when privacy was required.

Chi Qian understood all of that; she had the professional ethics and awareness for the job.

Except for the very last clause…

Chi Qian’s eyes narrowed as she read. She recited the long, complicated sentence to the housekeeper, one word at a time. “‘Party B¹³ must guarantee her own exclusivity, and must report any special circumstances in a timely manner…’ What does this mean? I don’t quite understand.”

The housekeeper looked into Chi Qian’s innocent eyes and smiled serenely. Then, in a professional and gentle tone, she translated for her. “It means… that for the duration of this contract, Miss Chi belongs to our Miss—and to our Miss alone.”

---

The author has something to say:

Qianqian: So I sold myself~

hhhhh

---

---