So I Had No Choice But to Stop Being the White Moonlight – Chapter 79

I’m Not Going to Be the White Moonlight

“Once married, you can never escape again.”

The afternoon heat was pushed away by the wind off the lake, and the cicadas’ drone weakened.

The silence in the room was as if someone had hit the mute button. Shi Jinlan’s words were the only thing left, and Chi Qian heard every single one with perfect clarity.

She had said their wedding would be in August.

Chi Qian felt as if she’d been burned, her eyes widening in shock.

She sat on the bed, dumbfounded, staring at Shi Jinlan. The statement felt utterly disconnected from their previous conversation—not just disconnected, but jarringly abrupt.

Feeling a step behind Shi Jinlan’s train of thought, Chi Qian let the two words she’d just heard tumble from her lips, one by one. “We-wed…ding?”

A smile remained in Shi Jinlan’s eyes. She nodded at Chi Qian’s stammered word. “I’ve looked at your System’s records. Worlds based on the ‘marry first, love later’¹ trope are very common; it’s a popular theme. Compared to the ‘happy enemies’² theme of this world’s original power-couple protagonists, it’s a higher-level concept.”

“The logic of your System is interesting. The protagonists’ safety is tied to the world’s existence, so it won’t harm them.”

Shi Jinlan’s voice was unhurried as she laid out her plan. “Since the world is already tilting in my favor, I might as well just become the protagonist.”

Chi Qian listened, her expression frozen in disbelief. The sense of dissonance from hearing Shi Jinlan discuss the System so casually was no less than waking up one morning to find her cat could talk.

Even though she’d witnessed Shi Jinlan’s ability to interfere with the System’s punishment before she passed out, and even though Shi Jinlan had given her a preventative injection³ about it long before that, Chi Qian still hadn’t quite processed it.

The light was hazy, and a shadow moved by the windowsill where the curtain fluttered.

Chi Qian noticed him at once—Thirteen, perched on the windowsill not far away, leisurely licking his fur. The interlocking pattern of black, white, and yellow fur was glossy and sleek, as if he’d been given a thorough cleaning.

They say no two snowflakes are alike, and the same is true for a cat’s markings. Looking at the uniquely familiar pattern on Thirteen’s coat, Chi Qian knew at a glance that the System had spilled everything.

But even though he had just betrayed the Lord Main System he so respected, the cat appeared unusually calm and at ease. It was as if, having found a big mountain to lean on,⁴ Thirteen felt not a shred of guilt under Chi Qian’s gaze.

Just as she was thinking this, Thirteen swished his tail and leaped gracefully onto the bed.

His fluffy paws were spotless. He padded closer and closer to Shi Jinlan. This was the same creature who always dodged her when she tried to pet him, yet now the little traitor was shamelessly pushing his head into Shi Jinlan’s hand.

Stinking cat!

Traitor!

Turncoat!⁵

Chi Qian glared, fuming, as she mentally condemned Thirteen for so eagerly currying favor with Shi Jinlan.

But amidst her indignation, a sense of familiarity washed over her, carried in on the cool breeze from the window.

The rippling surface of the lake refracted the light into a bizarre and motley spectacle.⁶ Beneath it, Shi Jinlan accepted Thirteen’s display of affection.

Her long, thick eyelashes swept down like fans as she watched the fawning⁷ cat with amusement. A few rays of golden light from the window fell across her slender fingers as she casually stroked the small head he had offered up.

The drone of cicadas was swallowed by the sound of waves, and the heat seemed to recede.

Chi Qian’s gaze grew distant as she watched them on the bed. She felt as if she had seen this scene somewhere before, and her mood then had been just as it was now—annoyed at Thirteen’s arrogance toward her and his sycophantic behavior toward Shi Jinlan.

When was that?

Was it back on the island?

“Besides, this way, I can achieve my fulfillment more directly, can’t I?”

Just as Chi Qian was puzzling over the scene before her, Shi Jinlan’s voice broke through.

She was still stroking the cat in her lap, but she lifted her gaze. Her deep eyes held a pool of golden light, clear and bright, yet they shone with a clarity that suggested nothing could be hidden from her.

“It looks like Thirteen told you everything.” Chi Qian shot a look at the cat.

He seemed to finally have a pang of conscience, flinching for a moment. Then, just as the sound of the automatic food dispenser came from downstairs, he shot out from under Shi Jinlan’s hand. “Meow~ (I was wrong, Host!)”

Chi Qian could only stare after her useless cat, though the annoyance in her eyes wasn’t as sharp as before.

The topic of a wedding had prompted a long explanation from Shi Jinlan. Laid out like that, her words made marriage seem like a strategic necessity.

But it also stripped the idea of some of its purity.

So Shi Jinlan doesn’t just want to marry me to keep me by her side, to make it so I can never leave.

When Shi Jinlan had first brought it up, that had been Chi Qian’s immediate thought. The word “wedding” had instantly linked the two of them together in her mind, and her heart had hammered a few extra beats because of it.

Chi Qian sometimes felt like a patient with Stockholm Syndrome. Her thoughts were being led astray by the collar around her neck, twisted into a shape she didn’t recognize.

Her eyes darted around. That’s a bit of a sick thought.

Then again, Shi Jinlan is the one keeping me here. Maybe she wouldn’t think so…

After all this time, Chi Qian still hadn’t learned to hide her emotions.

Shi Jinlan watched the expressions flit across Chi Qian’s face and knew she was once again thinking strange, even indecent, thoughts.⁸

The greedy, cunning cat was gone, leaving a trail of paw prints on the bedding.

Without Thirteen between them, Shi Jinlan shifted, lifting a hand to cup Chi Qian’s distracted face. “But I prefer this explanation.”

Her voice was a low murmur. “Once married, you can never escape again.”

The sudden intimacy arrived with Shi Jinlan’s breath against her ear. Outside, a dragonfly zipped past the window. The light flickered, and Chi Qian’s heart skipped a beat.

The figure at the foot of the bed blocked most of the daylight. Chi Qian looked up into a pair of eyes brimming with possessiveness.

She thought she should be afraid of those words. Collared, confined, and now bound to her forever, with no escape.

But just as she’d told Thirteen the other day, whether she was imprisoned or not depended on her own will.

And something was very wrong with her will. The part of her that had always longed for the simple, lazy life of a salted fish⁹ was now stirring restlessly at Shi Jinlan’s words.

It was as if her goal had never been to leave Shi Jinlan in the first place.

It was to stay by her side.

Shi Jinlan read the look in Chi Qian’s eyes. Her fingers traced down the side of her face, brushing over the collar. “So, for our wedding, do you want a Chinese style or a Western one?”

Her voice was unhurried, its cool tone laced with a gentle, steady cadence. It lacked the condescending air she wore at the company, instead settling warmly against Chi Qian’s ear and pulling her back to the present.

“Chinese or Western…” The more important the decision, the more paralyzing it was. Chi Qian still felt lost when it came to weddings. She looked to Shi Jinlan for help. “What about you?”

“I want everyone to know you are my wife,” Shi Jinlan answered, her tone earnest. “A Chinese ceremony might be more appropriate for that.”

This was an angle Chi Qian had never considered.

Nor had she expected Shi Jinlan to say it with such a straight face.

She wasn’t a caged sparrow,¹⁰ hidden away and stripped of her freedom.

Shi Jinlan was going to bring her into her world, making her a known and vital part of it all.

A long breeze swept across the lake, carrying a cool, gentle air into the room.

Shi Jinlan’s words gave the idea a sense of reality, and a warmth bloomed on Chi Qian’s cheeks.

“Well… Chinese weddings seem to be popular lately. They’re quite beautiful.” Shi Jinlan had finally sparked a genuine excitement for the wedding in her, and Chi Qian’s imagination began to run wild.

During her half-month of being a salted fish for the System, she had spent her time scrolling through videos on her bed, often coming across mission-takers sharing their outfits.

The dresses from the Cultivation World¹¹ were gorgeous, with flowing sleeves and pristine white fabric.

The ones from ancient transmigration¹² worlds were even more authentic and stunning, with real gems set in their headdresses and pearls shining with a brilliant white light.

Sometimes Chi Qian would even see outfits in a futuristic Cyberpunk style, like the System’s, which were also super cool.

But a Cyberpunk wedding…

Chi Qian couldn’t quite picture it. It felt a little too avant-garde.

A Chinese wedding was better. It was dignified and solemn, while also being a giant cosplay¹³ event.

Cosplay…

Chi Qian had never understood why novels always ended with a wedding.

People don’t suddenly become omnipotent just because they get married, able to handle everything the future throws at them.

The happy ending of a novel, in Chi Qian’s view, should be that from that point on, nothing could ever separate them.

She had read several novels that ended right after the main characters got married. The comment sections were full of readers celebrating, but she could always see so many unresolved issues. Even watching the protagonists’ final happy scene left her feeling unsettled.

And that same unsettled feeling was now hanging heavy in her own heart.

“Then we’ll do a Chinese-style one. But if you change your mind, we can always switch the plan—”

“Ah Lan.”

As Shi Jinlan finalized the decision, Chi Qian suddenly looked up at her. “Maybe getting married won’t be enough to achieve your fulfillment.”

It was rare for her to interrupt. Shi Jinlan could hear the hesitation in her voice.

She saw the lack of confidence in Chi Qian’s eyes as they met hers, only to quickly dart away.

A patch of sunlight fell through the window onto the soft white carpet, shimmering faintly with the ripples on the lake.

Chi Qian’s heart clenched and released. A despicable part of her wanted to hide her weakness, to just muddle through and possess Shi Jinlan for herself.

She had once heard Song Tang say that it’s hard for people to face their true selves.

But she didn’t want to be a liar anymore.

“Marrying me means the Main System will become our greatest threat. It might use me to manipulate you,” Chi Qian said, her voice soft. Her tone was calm, but the words seemed to take a tremendous effort.

This was why she had chosen to let someone else bring about Shi Jinlan’s fulfillment that day, not herself.

Her joy that today’s Shi Jinlan needed her and no one else was matched only by her hesitation to place this flower—herself—into Shi Jinlan’s hands.

Too many ties would bind them ever tighter. She was a puppet controlled by the System, and she didn’t want to drag Shi Jinlan down with her.

But Shi Jinlan wouldn’t allow it.

Her gaze was steady on Chi Qian. Her fingers found Chi Qian’s open palm, weaving through the gaps one by one until their hands were clasped. “Do you know why I chose the ‘marry first, love later’ theme?”

Chi Qian was bewildered. “Because… the System level for that theme is higher than this world’s protagonists?”

“Because it’s a legal relationship that even the System recognizes,” Shi Jinlan said.

Her voice was perfectly calm, yet somewhere beneath the surface, she was suppressing a storm of madness. The collar she had personally fastened around Chi Qian’s neck was a dark brown line against the smooth, pale skin. Her eyes fixed on that darkness, her jaw tightening. “Perhaps my earlier explanation wasn’t clear enough. Let me tell you again.”

“It’s because only in this way, no matter where you go, can I always find you.”

Shi Jinlan’s fingers brushed over the collar. Three years had been enough to torture her pride into submission. Her somber gaze clung to the lively pulse in Chi Qian’s throat, unwilling to look away.

Her pride, held so high, was not worth a single coin.¹⁴ She had bowed her head and submitted,¹⁵ placing her fate in the palm of the servant she herself had shackled, her gaze focused on Chi Qian with a sick, pathological expectation. “Is that clear?”

Do I understand?

Chi Qian thought she should.

Time and again, she had thrown out her anxieties, and time and again, this woman had affirmed her. Her anxious heart, so long suspended in uncertainty,¹⁶ was being held securely, wrapped in unwavering resolve.

But she couldn’t remember.

The pain of falling from a great height felt like a deliberately placed lock on the door to that memory. Every time she tried to pry it open even a little, she felt the agony of her bones dislocating and breaking all over again.

So for the past six months, she had never tried to remember.

She only recalled in broad strokes that she had saved Shi Jinlan, helped her, cared for her, and finally sacrificed herself in death to become the white moonlight¹⁷ cherished at the very tip of her heart.¹⁸

She could only compare her own shallow pain of falling off a cliff with Shi Jinlan’s three years of suffering, and she felt crushed by the weight of it.

Why did she have to forget?

“If you’ve forgotten, then don’t try to remember.”

Just as Chi Qian’s gaze fell once more on the bracelet on her wrist, Shi Jinlan’s hand covered it.

Realizing she had pushed too hard, Shi Jinlan quickly clasped Chi Qian’s left wrist with one hand while her other traced up her neck to gently cup her cheek.

Her slightly cool thumb lingered on Chi Qian’s furrowed brow, rubbing back and forth, almost like Thirteen’s fawning moments ago, a soft, repeated caress.

The comfortable distance between them was suddenly halved. Shi Jinlan was still the cool and proper Demon King, but now her eyes held a captivating glint that was hard to decipher. “Let’s change the subject. As we get to know each other again, I’ll take you through everything we used to do.”

“Do you know what we used to do most often?”

Shi Jinlan’s voice was a soft whisper. The rich fragrance of her skin lingered where her thumb had brushed Chi Qian’s brow, leaving a trail of faint, uncertain ripples in its wake.

What did we used to do?

Were we really that close before?

Lulled by Shi Jinlan’s words, Chi Qian felt a heat rise in her cheeks.

She took in the breath that fell from above, a stirring in her chest, and the answer was on the verge of coming out.¹⁹ “You mean… kissing.”

“Exactly. We used to kiss all the time.”

The cool voice lifted slightly, laced with a bewitching charm.

“How else would you explain why you open your mouth so obediently whenever I kiss you?”

Chi Qian couldn’t see the slyness in Shi Jinlan’s eyes. The moment she tilted her head up, her lips were met by the other woman’s, cool and yet searing hot.

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The author has something to say:

Qianqian: I feel like something isn’t quite right.

Lanlan: Doesn’t my wife like kisses~

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