So I Had No Choice But to Stop Being the White Moonlight – Chapter 71

I’m Not Going to Be the White Moonlight

Shi Jinlan’s lip was split

The night was unnaturally quiet; not a single sound could be heard in the distance.

The shadows of the trees wove together into heavy clouds that pressed down on the air. A thick fog layered itself over the grounds, making the manor felt like a world unto itself.

Because of the body’s self-preservation mechanism, pain is always the first thing to assault the brain.

Chi Qian was slammed against the door, her thin summer clothes offering no cushion. The raised floral pattern on the wood crashed against her bones, and the pain was so sharp it brought reflexive tears to her eyes.

But someone in this room was in even more pain than she was.

Beneath that deep, furious question, Chi Qian could hear the tremor Shi Jinlan was trying to suppress.

She instinctively wanted to pull away but was forced to look up at Shi Jinlan.

The room’s bright light fell into her eyes, tracing, stroke by stroke, the outline of pupils that looked like they were splitting from rage.¹ A jarring red spread from the corners of her eyes. Her long hair was unbound, the inky blackness a stark contrast to the crimson, and her eyes were filled with defiance.

It didn’t take a genius to know that anyone who met Shi Jinlan’s gaze at this moment would know she was angry.

Rage spread through her eyes, and her hand moved uncontrollably, clenching Chi Qian’s arm. She didn’t seem to care in the slightest whether her strength would hurt Chi Qian; she just squeezed, hard, as if she meant to snap the bone.

Shi Jinlan’s reason had been kicked away by fury. A blazing fire seemed to be roaring straight for Chi Qian.

But an evil dragon’s roar was never just for intimidation.

It was also to vent her pain.

Chi Qian looked at Shi Jinlan. The trembling from the hand gripping her wrist traveled up her arm, following her pulse until it had spread through her entire body.

Shi Jinlan was that wounded evil dragon, lashing out violently, uncontrollably, at anyone within reach.

And yet, despite it all, she seemed to have one last shred of reason left. She stared at Chi Qian without a word, her short breaths suppressing her emotions as she patiently waited for an answer.

But Chi Qian was destined to disappoint her.

She was pinned to the door by Shi Jinlan, whose eyes, shimmering under the light, were like a volley of arrows. They all shot toward Chi Qian, making her feel as if ten thousand arrows were piercing her heart.²

The evil dragon had no trust in humans. She rejected anyone who bore her ill will.

Therefore, the only one who could hurt her was someone she had let her guard down for, someone she allowed to get close.

Shi Jinlan’s gaze was dark and sharp. Though it was so black that no light could penetrate it, it seemed to illuminate others, making them question their own hearts and feel their guilt.

Chi Qian’s eyes flickered. She didn’t dare to look directly at Shi Jinlan and, for a moment, didn’t know how to answer her question.

I should stick to the plan with Thirteen, she thought. Make Shi Jinlan give up on me so she can have her own happy ending.

She thought she should tell Shi Jinlan that she didn’t love her, but her lips were pressed tightly together as if sealed with glue. She just couldn’t force out those few simple words.

Compared to the mission driven by logic, a thousand, no, ten thousand versions of herself were pulling her back, telling her not to deny it, not to speak.

Her subconscious seemed to have betrayed its master, desperately screaming at her not to break Shi Jinlan’s heart.

How could I break her heart?

How could I bear to?

“Ah Lan, listen to me,” Chi Qian tried to de-escalate, to first soothe Shi Jinlan’s spiraling emotions as much as possible.

But Shi Jinlan had no reason left to listen to her explanations.

She only wanted one answer. The violence had stripped her of nearly all her patience. With a jerk of her arm, she pulled Chi Qian, who had so many more excuses ready, right in front of her.

She didn’t want to hear it.

She wanted to shut Chi Qian up.

Chi Qian’s breath hitched as a clean, almost frigid scent invaded her mouth.

Shi Jinlan kissed her.

But to call it a kiss wouldn’t quite fit the definition.

Shi Jinlan’s kiss had lost all form. The tip of her tongue swept past the seam of Chi Qian’s teeth and, without a word, pried them open, full of violence.

The hard, uneven door behind her blocked any path of escape.

She was held fast, one of her wrists caught in Shi Jinlan’s hand while the other hand slid up her neck to clamp down on her chin.

This was not a good kissing experience.

Chi Qian was forced to accept Shi Jinlan’s demands, the occasional whimper escaping her open mouth. Her senses were filled with nothing but Shi Jinlan’s scent, until it felt like she herself was being embedded into Shi Jinlan’s body.

Huge bouquets of delicate white flowers bloomed in her mind, but slowly, that purity was stained with the taste of blood.

Chi Qian submitted to Shi Jinlan’s ferocity, her mind numb and chaotic, yet she felt no pain.

She quickly realized that the metallic taste in her mouth wasn’t her blood, but Shi Jinlan’s.

Just now, when she had so crudely forced open her teeth, she had felt her own hard teeth knock against something soft for a split second.

That was when it happened. That was when Shi Jinlan’s lip was split.

Realizing this, Chi Qian struggled slightly.

She wanted Shi Jinlan to stop, to at least let her see the wound on her mouth.

But her struggle seemed to have the opposite effect.

The moment before Chi Qian could pull her hand free, Shi Jinlan applied even more force to her wrist.

The violent suppression spread to Chi Qian’s waist. Shi Jinlan then twisted her arms behind her back, pinning them against her lower back before pulling her entire body tighter into her embrace.

Without the door for support, Chi Qian had completely lost her footing.

She was being plundered at Shi Jinlan’s whim, her whole body arching backward. But her waist was held firmly in Shi Jinlan’s palm, unable to move, nearly bent in two.

She was clearly trying to struggle free, yet to keep her balance, Chi Qian had no choice but to rely on Shi Jinlan.

Her free arm, which had been hanging limply, rose and blindly sought out Shi Jinlan’s other arm. Like a vine, it wrapped around and clung on.

The sound of wetness echoed in the room. Chi Qian’s mouth was filled with Shi Jinlan’s mark.

Her warm breath, her clean scent, and…

Her fresh blood.

Chi Qian was being unilaterally plundered, her mind dazed and numb.

But she didn’t want to push Shi Jinlan away.

A fierce storm had been unleashed in her world, recklessly destroying every building in its path.

I must be insane, she thought, to be standing in the middle of a storm, letting it whip and slash across my face.

A gleam of moisture shone between their lips. The tip of her tongue was tugged, and a pain like an electric current shot through her brain.

It was only in that instant that she felt she was truly alive in this world.

Truly with Shi Jinlan.

It was as if their bone and blood were merging together.³

Chi Qian, who feared pain most of all, found herself indulging in Shi Jinlan’s violence.

Her captured wrist twisted slightly, and within the range Shi Jinlan allowed, her fingers slowly slid between hers.

“Ah Qian.” After what felt like an eternity, Shi Jinlan suddenly stopped.

Her breath was scorching. In the center of her reddened eyes was a pair of pupils that burned like torches.

She called Chi Qian’s name. The hand that had been clamping her chin slowly traveled up, brushing and stroking her cheek.

A kiss wouldn’t diminish one’s desire.⁴ Instead, it magnified all the obsession, madness, and violence that had already filled those eyes.

Amidst the glistening with watery light,⁵ Shi Jinlan repeated her earlier question. “Do you love me or not?”

Chi Qian’s hand, intertwined with Shi Jinlan’s, tightened. Her breathing was unsteady. She lowered her gaze, not even daring to look at Shi Jinlan.

For a moment, her breath came in short, heavy gasps.

Chaos. Noise. Chi Qian felt as if a thousand images were flashing through her mind at once.

Under a dim yellow light, Shi Jinlan’s eyes were close to hers, haloed with a layer of crimson.

She had looked at her just like that before, but not with this fierce, violent obsession. Back then, her lips had been slightly parted, her breathing soft.

Her eyes, glistening with watery light, had sparkled, and she had bitten her lip stubbornly, looking utterly pitiful.

“I…” Chi Qian felt like she was losing her grip on reality. Her lips, swollen from the kiss, trembled like the weak wings of a butterfly, struggling to form words.

Like anyone watching that butterfly, Shi Jinlan’s eyes filled with expectation for Chi Qian’s answer.

Chi Qian saw it—the obsession beneath Shi Jinlan’s fixation.

Faced with that expectation, her heart was about to shatter.

She couldn’t give her the answer she wanted.

“I only…”

With great difficulty, Chi Qian finally managed to force out a second word.

But before she could finish, she felt a hand grip her arm fiercely.

It was as if Shi Jinlan already knew what she was going to say. Her dark eyes fractured with a thousand tiny cracks.

Sometimes, a person doesn’t need to speak. An action, a look, even a single breath can reveal the answer.

Shi Jinlan hated her own perceptiveness.

They had only been together for less than half a year, yet her understanding of Chi Qian felt as deep as a lifetime. Just by watching the shape of her mouth, Shi Jinlan could guess what she was about to say.

But that answer was not the one she wanted.

She was like a tyrannical, obsessed monarch, unable to hear any word that contradicted her own.

In those watery, shattered eyes, one shard held hate, the next held love, then another hate, and another love.

It was impossible to tell whether hatred had the upper hand, or if love was stronger.

Dominated by her emotions for a second time, Shi Jinlan yanked open the door with a bang, grabbed Chi Qian’s arm, and threw her out.

The two sounds of the closing door were like gunshots—Bang! Bang!—striking Chi Qian’s heart.

The door being slammed shut by the person inside stirred up a gust of wind that violently whipped up Chi Qian’s hair. The thin layer of sweat on her body had not yet dried, and the escaping warmth openly deserted her, running down her spine.

Her hand, which had been tightly interlaced with hers, was abruptly pulled away. Chi Qian’s palm was empty, and she suddenly felt so cold.

The cicadas shrieked as if in the winter air.

Da.

A faint footstep sounded from nearby. Hearing the noise, the Madam Housekeeper hurried up the stairs.

She stood at the top of the staircase, her steps light. Her calm expression held a hint of confusion from not having all the information as she looked at Chi Qian standing by the door.

Having been thrown out by Shi Jinlan, Chi Qian stood there like a child who had done something wrong, staring blankly at the door.

Shi Jinlan had practically dragged her to the doorway. She hadn’t even had time to put on shoes and was standing barefoot on the floor.

Seeing this, the Madam Housekeeper’s brow furrowed with pity. She walked over and knocked on Shi Jinlan’s door. “Miss.”

There was no sound from within.

The entire mansion was silent, as if someone had pressed a mute button.

After waiting for two or three seconds, the Madam Housekeeper glanced at Chi Qian’s thin clothes and bare feet, then spoke toward the room again. “I will go prepare the room next door for Miss Chi.”

That sentence finally elicited a response from inside.

“Don’t you dare give her a room!”

Night enveloped the dim room. The lights had been slammed off at some point.

Shi Jinlan sat on the bed, her straight posture appearing gaunt in the moonlight. Her still-damp hair hung in messy strands by the side of her face, looking disheveled and furious.

This room didn’t feel like a room, but more like a lair.

She was coiled in the place most familiar to her, surrounded by the scent she had longed for day and night for over three years. Her eyes were gloomy, like those of a wounded lioness.

She didn’t care about the kindness offered by those around her; she was only wary of anything that might cause her to lose this scent.

Even if her words had just stabbed viciously into Chi Qian’s heart, her sharp claws dripping with blood as they tore a piece of flesh from her chest.

In all her years with this family, the Madam Housekeeper had never seen Shi Jinlan so out of control.

She stood silently at the door, her expression grave. She then turned to look at Chi Qian, and after a moment of thought, she leaned in close and whispered, “Miss Chi, let’s go downstairs.”

Chi Qian nodded numbly.

Something heavy was weighing down her chest, making her feel awful.

This was the first time Chi Qian had ever felt a summer night could be so cold.

Bright light swept across the living room. She sat there on the sofa in a daze, the television opposite her reflecting her current awkward state.

She was still barefoot, her toes curled slightly, unsure if she should even touch the carpet.

Just then, the Madam Housekeeper arrived with slippers to rescue her. She placed them respectfully at her feet. “Miss Chi, please put these on.”

“Thank you.” Chi Qian’s spirits were low, and her voice lacked its usual energy.

The Madam Housekeeper didn’t stop moving. While putting a kettle of fruit tea on to boil at the small bar, she said, “Did you and Miss have a disagreement? Perhaps you could tell me about it. Two heads are better than one.”

“I made her angry,” Chi Qian said, her voice still quiet. She didn’t want to admit it, but it was the truth.

“Miss rarely gets angry,” the Madam Housekeeper said.

After a moment, she seemed to feel that wasn’t quite accurate and corrected herself. “In fact, Miss rarely shows any emotion.”

“I began working for Miss later on. The butler who was with her since childhood was someone else,” the Madam Housekeeper said, looking at Chi Qian. “Miss Chi, you should know about Miss’s past, shouldn’t you?”

Hearing this, Chi Qian reflexively denied it. “How would I know about those things?”

But the Madam Housekeeper was unhurried. As she prepared the fruit tea, she gave Chi Qian a knowing smile. “Back then, her uncle made such a huge mess of Miss’s affairs that everyone on the street knew about it. Since you grew up in Ningcheng City, how could you not know?”

Chi Qian’s heart skipped a beat.

In her haste to draw a line between her past and present selves, she had forgotten that with Shi Jinlan’s current fame, the business with Shi Cheng was an open secret.

Watching Chi Qian’s reaction, the Madam Housekeeper’s eyes curved into a slight smile. “Miss Chi, you are that Miss Chi, aren’t you?”

Even though she realized she might have been exposed, hearing the Madam Housekeeper say it so directly still made Chi Qian’s heart jump. She continued to deny it. “I… I’m not.”

The Madam Housekeeper looked at Chi Qian’s expression, her gentle smile unwavering. She pushed the cup of fruit tea toward her and continued, “I don’t know how you managed to die and be reborn, but I always thought you came back for a reunion with Miss. She thought so, too.”

“I’m really not her…” Chi Qian realized that her denials weren’t changing the housekeeper’s mind, and her own conviction began to falter.

I’m really not a very good mission-taker, she thought. Exposed after just a few words.

Then Shi Jinlan…

Chi Qian’s tightly clenched heart was hoisted up again. She held the cup of tea the Madam Housekeeper had given her.

Through the rising steam, she heard the housekeeper’s soft voice telling Shi Jinlan’s story. “Back then, in order for her leg to fully recover, Miss underwent a procedure to break the bone and reconnect it.⁶ When she realized that during the skin graft, the doctor had kindly removed the scar on her left leg, she took a knife and cut another one in the exact same place.”

Hearing this, Chi Qian felt as if a cut had been made on her own leg, and it twitched reflexively.

She was afraid of bitterness and pain; she couldn’t even imagine what state of mind Shi Jinlan must have been in to take a knife to her newly healed leg and carve such a bloody gash.

The Madam Housekeeper then gave her the answer. “That was something you left for Miss, Miss Chi. She won’t let a single piece of it disappear.”

The steam from the fruit tea rose and misted Chi Qian’s eyes, the moisture gradually forming a shimmering layer over them.

She gripped the cup tightly. The silver bracelet on her wrist slid down and clinked against the ceramic. The sound seemed to strike her heart, making it ache with a throbbing pain.

So many times before, while scrolling through her phone at night, Chi Qian had lain in bed and wished that a beautiful woman would inexplicably fall for her.

Now that her dream had come true, this intense, moving affection—conveyed even through a third party—was laid out before her, yet she felt no trace of ecstasy.

It was a classic case of Lord Ye’s love of dragons.⁷

The guilt, coated in dust, reappeared in her heart.

Her voice dropped to the level of dust as she spoke to the Madam Housekeeper, her words bleak. “She’s wonderful. It’s me who’s not good enough.”

Chi Qian felt more and more that she didn’t deserve Shi Jinlan.

She was a liar, a scoundrel who played with people’s emotions.

She had gotten close to Shi Jinlan to complete a mission, using flowery words and clever talk⁸ to trick her into falling in love with her.

She should have just stayed dead, but instead, she had to come back to this world and trample all over her hope again.

She was truly despicable.

“Ah, Miss Shi is omnipotent, like a goddess. She deserves someone who is also like a god.”

But the Madam Housekeeper clearly disagreed with Chi Qian’s assessment. She turned to look at her, her gaze firm. “Miss Chi, have you ever considered that if Miss is no mere mortal, then perhaps, neither are you?”

“You have already done something none of us could do. In what way are you and Miss not the same kind of people?”

Just that morning, a maid she didn’t know had come up to her and told her she wasn’t good enough for Shi Jinlan.

That their statuses were unequal, and that she was destined to be abandoned by her sooner or later.

And now, the Madam Housekeeper who personally cared for Shi Jinlan was sitting beside her, telling her that she and Shi Jinlan were the same.

She, a dead person, had returned in a way people in this world couldn’t possibly imagine, only to do something that exploited another’s feelings.

“Besides, Miss is no god.” Before Chi Qian could finish her thought, the Madam Housekeeper spoke again.

She sliced a freshly baked apple, pushed the plate toward Chi Qian, and her eyes were still curved in a smile.

Chi Qian felt as if she had been struck by something. The housekeeper’s words shook her to the core.

“Here is a blanket. I’ve raised the indoor temperature by a degree, so you won’t be cold tonight.”

Just as Chi Qian was reeling from that statement, the housekeeper, with the air of one who, when the matter is done, flicks the dust from one’s clothes and leaves, deeply hiding one’s merit and fame,⁹ stood up and handed her the blanket she had brought over.

“Thank you,” Chi Qian said, accepting the blanket and offering her sincere gratitude.

“You’re too kind, Miss Chi.” The Madam Housekeeper gave a slight nod, her professionalism impeccable. “Good night. I wish you sweet dreams.”

“I’ll try my best,” Chi Qian managed a small smile, her heavy mood lifting slightly.

The steam had dissipated, and the freshly brewed tea was no longer scalding.

Chi Qian lifted the cup and took a sip. The warm liquid slid down her throat, spreading heat through her body. Her mind was filled with the Madam Housekeeper’s words.

Shi Jinlan is no god.

That’s right. Anyone who knows Shi Jinlan should know that she is no god.

She was an evil dragon, a violent and gloomy villain, and a rebel who betrayed the logic of this world and defied fate.

From the very beginning of the story, she was never designed to be a god.

It was me. I was the one who thought she was too good.

But why?

Why did I think Shi Jinlan was too good?

Why are my feelings for her so abrupt?

It wasn’t their first time meeting, so it couldn’t be love at first sight.

But they had spent so much time together before without developing any feelings, so it couldn’t be that feelings grew over time, either…

In the silence, it was as if droplets of water were falling one by one onto the surface of a lake, sending ripples through the thick night.

Chi Qian lowered her eyelashes, feeling her head swell. It was as if something inside was struggling, resisting, disagreeing with her thoughts.

What is wrong with me? My emotions are just running wild, growing out of nowhere.

Why am I so strange?

And she didn’t even think it was strange.

It was as if everything was meant to be this way.

She was supposed to fall for Shi Jinlan, even a thousand, ten thousand times over.

Did I forget something…?

“I… forgot…”

As Chi Qian’s thoughts deepened, an inopportune wave of drowsiness washed over her.

The Madam Housekeeper’s fruit tea was brewed perfectly. After just one cup, Chi Qian’s tense nerves had relaxed.

She slowly rested her head on a cushion to the side, her eyelids fighting to stay open, and drifted off into a muddled sleep.

The moon shone through the wide-open curtains, casting a swath of silvery light across the sofa.

Completely undisturbed by the light, Chi Qian slept soundly, not even noticing when a shadow fell over her.

The night was still and silent. The dark shadow lingered over her for a long time.

Finally, it settled down beside her curled-up form.

Shi Jinlan was still wearing the same robe from earlier. The night draped a dark cloak over her.

Her gaze was heavy as she sat on the sofa watching Chi Qian, as solitary and silent as a wandering soul.

Her eyes roamed, and the fingers resting on her lap twitched, rising with a restraint that she failed to maintain, and reached for the side of Chi Qian’s face.

Her movements were cautious and gentle as she brushed aside the stray hairs that had fallen across her face, revealing her sleeping features clearly.

The shadows of the night flowed over Chi Qian’s sleeping face, outlining her thick brows and lashes.

She slept without any defenses, her cheek pressed against the pillow, creating a small, fleshy puff.

She was still the same as before.

She didn’t look like she had much meat on her, but she was exceptionally nice to touch.

The fingers that had brushed away Chi Qian’s hair showed no signs of settling down. They traced the curve of her ear and slowly moved toward the lines of her neck.

Beneath her delicate skin lay a pulsing vein. The real, powerful warmth that passed through Shi Jinlan’s fingers was the best proof of life.

No longer a cold, empty shell.

She had her soul, a foolish soul.

At that thought, Shi Jinlan’s brows furrowed tightly.

She said she was free, so why did she come back?

And if she came back, was it just to hand herself over to someone else?

Shi Jinlan’s fingers slowly, unhurriedly, traced Chi Qian’s profile, moving from her neck up to her cheek.

Lingering and obsessed.

“Miss, everything is ready.” The Madam Housekeeper, who had left the mansion at some point, now approached from the entryway and stood behind Shi Jinlan.

“Good.”

Shi Jinlan reached out and straightened the messy collar of Chi Qian’s shirt. Her dark pupils were tinged with crimson, casting a gloomy shadow in the moonlight.

This time, she would absolutely not let her go.

---

At dawn, a flock of pigeons flew over the manor, their wings making a continuous sound.

The cicadas shrieked, their sharp calls piercing through the dense leaves and falling straight into the house without any filter.

Chi Qian had slept very deeply. Hearing the noise, she frowned in dissatisfaction.

She habitually grabbed the pillow with one hand, preparing to roll over and cover her ears.

But as she was turning, she immediately realized she was supposed to be on the sofa. If she rolled over like this, she would definitely fall onto the floor!

Just as Chi Qian squeezed her eyes shut, ready to have an intimate encounter with Mother Earth, nothing happened.

The expected fall never came.

Instead, the same softness supported her body.

Chi Qian was a bit dazed, and in her daze, she sensed she was in a bed.

What’s going on?!

Chi Qian still remembered what had happened last night. She shot her eyes open with a swoosh.

But what she saw was neither the living room where she had fallen asleep, nor Shi Jinlan’s room. It was a completely unfamiliar place.

It lacked the vintage design of the octagonal building.¹⁰ The room was square, simple, and quiet. The wind blew in through the window, lifting a curtain and bringing the sparkling reflection of a lake into her view.

What is this place?

Why is there a lake?!

Chi Qian started to feel a little scared.

She sat up on the bed and quickly scanned the room before getting down barefoot.

But as if someone knew she would get out of bed, the floor was covered with a thick carpet. It was perfectly fine to walk on even without shoes.

Chi Qian felt uneasy in this strange environment. She called out for Thirteen several times in her mind but got no answer.

She looked at the door, which was just within reach, and moved to open it.

And the door opened.

But she wasn’t the one who opened it.

A tall, dark shadow fell over Chi Qian from above. Shi Jinlan, dressed in a black dress, appeared in the doorway.

She looked completely different from her violent, furious self last night. Only the scabbed-over cut on her pursed lips remained.

Those eyes, cold at their core, were now smiling warmly at Chi Qian, blocking her path. “Ah Qian, where are you going?”

---

The author has something to say:

That’s right, Lanlan brought Qianqian to her little house in the middle of the lake.

---

---