Moonlight Allure - Chapter 34

Looking into Xueyin’s pleading, misty eyes, Xiao Nianru couldn’t bring herself to refuse. “Fine, you can stay here tonight.”

Li Han frowned. “Jiang Xueyin, when exactly do you plan on leaving?”

“I have a ticket for 3:00 PM tomorrow,” Xueyin replied. “I’ll take a taxi to the airport.”

“Tell you what—I’ll come by at 2:00 PM and have my driver take you,” Li Han said, clearly eager to see Xueyin off as soon as possible.

Xueyin shook her head. “No need to go to the trouble. It’ll be a mess if we’re caught on camera together.”

“Fine. Just keep your wits about you; don’t miss your flight.” Li Han gave the reminder solely because she wanted to avoid any more “surprises.”

Xueyin offered a bright smile. “Thanks for the reminder, Li-jie.”

Li Han rubbed her nose and turned to Nianru. “Since she’s staying, I’ll head out first.” If there weren’t a mountain of work waiting for her, she would have stayed herself.

“Drive safely, Li-jie,” Nianru said warmly.

Once again, they were alone.

“Sister, I’m going to Country Y—the same place as Qingyu. We might even end up at the same school. Will you come visit me if you’re in the area?” Expectation flickered in Xueyin’s eyes. She didn’t ask Nianru to make a special trip—only that Nianru wouldn’t forget her.

“Of course.” Nianru gently ruffled Xueyin’s hair. “You’ll be all by yourself out there. Be careful and take care of yourself.”

Xueyin nodded vigorously, her heart beaming.

Because of her condition, Nianru couldn’t see Xueyin off at the airport. Li Han accompanied her instead, still harboring a lingering unease.

At the departure gate, Li Han called out to her. “Wait. You, are you really Jiang Xueyin?”

She had just seen the ID Xueyin used—the name on it was Jiang Xueci.

“I’ve felt for a while now that, at some point, you became a different person.” Li Han’s intuition was razor-sharp; despite their limited time together, she had sensed the shift.

“I am Jiang Xueyin, but you can think of me as someone else.” Xueyin nodded slightly. Noticing Li Han’s scrutinizing gaze, she added, “That ID is just a passport to a new life. It has nothing to do with who I am.”

Li Han was the person Nianru trusted most; Xueyin didn’t want to leave on bad terms. She wanted to salvage what little was left of her image.

Li Han pushed down her doubts and nodded. “Safe travels.”

“Goodbye.” Xueyin waved and turned into the VIP lane.

By the time Xueyin arrived in Country Y, night had fallen. Streetlights flickered sparsely as she rolled her suitcase into the apartment Jiang Jue had arranged. He had originally offered her an estate, but she felt it was unnecessary and, frankly, she couldn’t afford the upkeep. Besides, she didn’t intend to stay away forever—though she kept that thought to herself.

The apartment was a simple one-bedroom—perfect for her vision of solitary living. The rent was deducted from the bank card Jiang Jue gave her, money she fully intended to pay back one day. After tidying the forty-square-meter space, she collapsed into bed, exhausted.

The next morning, sunlight pierced through the thin curtains, forcing her awake. She immediately began reviewing English and the theoretical basics of audiovisual language. She couldn’t enroll directly and had to enter a preparatory program first; if she passed the assessment next June, she would be officially admitted. English was the most critical subject.

Fortunately, having the “Scum Alpha’s” linguistic foundation made learning rapid. Within days, she was greeting her neighbor. The woman across the hall, Grace, was a kind-faced, middle-aged Beta with blonde curls and a Golden Retriever. Every time they met, the dog would wag its tail at Xueyin.

They grew close. Grace was a retired university lecturer who had never married. Because they were strangers in a foreign land, Xueyin felt she could speak freely about her love for Nianru. Grace mostly listened, occasionally reminding her that “courage can create many miracles.” Her English improved by leaps and bounds.

By her second month, Xueyin officially started her prep classes. Despite the heavy workload, she followed the news from home religiously, especially anything involving Xiao Nianru. She used a new identity to create a “sock-puppet” account on Weibo, liking and reposting every one of Nianru’s updates.

However, their WeChat history remained frozen on the day she left:

“Goodbye.”

“Goodbye.”

It was as if her time with Nianru had been a fever dream. Now, separated by half the globe, the connection had naturally withered. She would stare at Nianru’s social media posts for ages—photos of landscapes, afternoon tea, or funny moments on set—before tentatively leaving a “like.”

She missed Nianru desperately but didn’t dare intrude. They were merely “social media acquaintances” now.

Encouraged by Grace’s words about courage, Xueyin wandered through the campus at dusk with her camera. She captured the sky, a canvas of brilliant, sprawling clouds. After returning home, she sent the photo to Nianru.

“I wanted to share the sunset with you,” she added, fearing it was too abrupt.

A moment later, Nianru replied: “It’s beautiful.”

Followed by: “How are you doing in Country Y?”

Tears blurred Xueyin’s vision instantly. Her fingers trembled as she typed. “I’m doing well. And you? Is Lin Shan still making things difficult?”

Nianru: “No, I’m fine. Also, I’ve had the mark-removal surgery.”

Xueyin froze. Her hand instinctively went to the gland at the back of her own neck. From now on, this body would no longer exert a biological pull on Nianru.

She replied: “Congratulations.”

Congratulations on being free from the shackles of “Jiang Xueyin.”

In the hospital, Nianru stared at the word, her expression unreadable.

“What are you looking at? You just woke up and you’re already on your phone?” Li Han handed her a bowl of washed cherries. “Is it Jiang Xueyin again?”

Nianru hummed in affirmation and set the phone on the nightstand.

Li Han sighed. “You just finished the surgery. Rest. The doctor says if you recover well, you can be discharged the day after tomorrow. Your leave from the set is almost up.”

“I know,” Nianru nodded. “Li-jie, I know what you’re worried about. Don’t worry. Since I chose to remove the mark, I won’t repeat the same mistakes.”

“Good.”

Back in Country Y, Xueyin stared at the screen. When no reply came, she set the phone down with a heavy heart. She walked to the wardrobe and pulled out her autumn pajamas, catching her reflection in the full-length mirror.

For a split second, it looked like the person in the mirror smiled?

She dropped the pajamas and faced the mirror squarely, touching her own face. The reflection didn’t move. She was wearing a white printed sweatshirt, her hair in a bun—the picture of youthful vitality.

But the person deep in the glass stood with hands in pockets, a cynical, mocking tilt to her lips.

Xueyin rubbed her eyes. “Am I just too tired? Is this a hallucination?”

A familiar voice echoed from the glass. “What? Forgotten who I am so soon?”

A chill raced down Xueyin’s spine. The original ‘Jiang Xueyin’? She didn’t disappear?

“You’re quite something,” the reflection said. “Certainly, more decisive than I was. But there’s one thing I’m not happy about. How could you just leave Xiao Nianru? I worked so hard to get her, and you just let her go?”

“And all that effort to escape the Jiang family and you still didn’t end up with her? You lost the girl and the money. Pathetic.”

“You had such a perfect opportunity and you blew it. What good are you?”

“You’re still the same useless waste.”

“Are you really satisfied with this?”

“Who are you?” Xueyin’s voice shook, the words feeling dry in her throat. “Are you the real Jiang Xueyin?”

“We are both Jiang Xueyin, aren’t we?” the voice chuckled.

“Why didn’t you disappear?” Cold sweat slicked Xueyin’s palms. She felt a sudden, violent urge to shatter the glass, to make the image vanish.

The voice remained calm, like a poet strolling through a field with a viper hidden in his sleeve. “Whether I disappear or not, depends entirely on you.”

“Me?” A trace of bewilderment flickered in Jiang Xueyin’s eyes.

In a daze, she looked back into the mirror only to see her own confused reflection once more. The apparition was gone.

She collapsed onto the bed beside the wardrobe, murmuring to herself, “What is going on?”

Suddenly, the heavy, cloying scent of oranges saturated the air. She reached back to touch the smooth skin of her gland, and a wave of suffocating nausea surged up her throat.

She bolted to the bathroom, gripping the edges of the sink as she gagged.

Lifting her head, she stared into the bathroom mirror. It was just her—no one else. It was as if the previous encounter had been nothing more than a vivid hallucination born of exhaustion.

Yet, the orange fragrance continued to haunt her. She couldn’t stop retching. Shaking and weak, she fumbled through the cabinet for a scent-blocking patch and pressed it over her gland. Only then did the nausea begin to recede.

The faint, soothing aroma of lavender from the patch allowed her heart rate to steady.

Xueyin thought back to that barrage of questions, especially the final one: “Are you truly satisfied?”

The words circled her mind like a curse. She had successfully escaped the Jiang family; she was studying the photography she loved. What reason did she have to be dissatisfied?

“Xiao Nianru,” she whispered, her voice softening at the name.

Every ounce of her lingering regret and longing was tied to that woman.

Xueyin slowly closed her eyes. Her heart began to race, her breathing turning shallow and frantic as memories began to collide and overlap in her mind—her own memories tangled with those of the “Scum Alpha.”

She couldn’t help but ask herself: Who am I, really?

A heavy pressure settled on her chest, making it nearly impossible to breathe. Sliding down the side of the wardrobe, her legs gave way, and she sank onto the floor.

It was a long time before she managed to pull herself up. She washed her face, put on some soothing, ambient music, and tried to sleep.

She had expected to lie awake all night, but sleep came quickly—and with it came dreams of the original Jiang Xueyin.