Moonlight Allure - Chapter 38

The face in the mirror stiffened for a fraction of a second before twisting back into a smile. “I am you. Of course I want you to be happy.”

Xueyin crossed her arms, her voice laced with ice. “Jiang Xueyin, drop the act. I know it’s you. I died in the real world, and you’ve crawled back to this one.”

“Oh? And what if I have?” The reflection scoffed. “You’re pathetic compared to me. At least I’m an Alpha with wealth and power; you’re just a lowly Beta. It’s a privilege for you to inhabit my body. You’d better do exactly as I say. When I finally reclaim my body, you’ll get to watch a person with your own face being intimate with Xiao Nianru. Isn’t that a dream come true for you?”

There were so many holes in that logic that Xueyin didn’t even know where to begin. She realized then that this person wouldn’t change because of a few words—so why let herself be led by the nose?

Xueyin’s gaze shifted as she decided to take the initiative. “What is it you want me to do?” she asked, already planning to do the exact opposite.

“Tsk. I’m not an idiot.”

Seeing that the reflection wasn’t going to talk, Xueyin reached down to pick up the fallen bedsheet.

“I’m curious, Little Jiang,” the mirror-self continued. “Have you always been this weak and honest? If your boss tells you to work overtime, you just do it? Don’t you know how to fight back?”

Xueyin’s hand froze on the fabric. A mocking smile touched her lips. “Because you’re the eldest miss of the Jiang family, you’ll never understand the struggle of people at the bottom.”

In her old department, overtime was a constant—especially during the month-end, quarter-end, and year-end rushes. Her only solace was that they were actually paid for it. In many companies, “voluntary overtime” without pay was the norm.

“Yet you weren’t so ‘honest’ when you were throwing yourself at Nianru,” the reflection drawled. “You acted like a scheming ‘Green Tea’ girl who had practiced every move in her head.”

Xueyin’s brow furrowed with irritation. She threw the sheet over the glass. “Shut up, will you?”

But the voice didn’t fade; it grew louder, sharper.

“I will not! If you did it, why are you afraid of me saying it? Playing the pitiful, spoiled child in front of Xiao Nianru while acting like a normal human with everyone else and when you faced Song Siyuan, Li Jiannan, and Lin Shan, you were ruthless. You’re quite the chameleon.”

“I’m a person, not a label,” Xueyin retorted. Labels are fixed; people are not. She pressed her hands over her ears and squeezed her eyes shut, trying to block it out. But the voice remained crystal clear.

“You don’t even have a body of your own, so why overthink things? Life is short—indulge while you can. No one knows what will happen in the next second. Xiao Nianru’s heat cycle is coming up soon. Are you really going to let that chance slip away? If something is truly wrong with your gland—if it needs to be removed—you’ll lose your edge entirely. A Beta with no family backing, how exactly do you plan to compete?”

Xueyin panicked and bolted for the bathroom. She nearly slipped on the wet floor, catching herself on the sink. She looked into the bathroom mirror. Her face was deathly pale, her eyes rimmed with red. She looked like a wreck.

She tried peeling back the scent-blocker. The orange pheromones flooded out instantly. The suffocating nausea hit her like a physical blow. She slapped the patch back on and turned on the shower.

She was using waterproof patches now, so she didn’t have to take them off to bathe. The sound of water echoing in the confined space finally drowned out the eerie voice. She leaned her forehead against the cold tiles and let out a long, shuddering breath.

Twenty minutes later, she emerged in her pajamas and burrowed into bed. She expected to fall asleep quickly and see the Scum Alpha in her dreams again, but insomnia took hold. She could feel every second ticking by, her mind becoming sharper and more alert. Outside, the rain continued its rhythmic patter.

In the darkness, she reached for her phone and messaged Nianru: “I can’t sleep. I saw the person in the mirror again. She’s getting stronger—the sheet can’t even muffle her voice. I’m so scared.”

Nianru replied almost instantly: “Don’t be afraid. How are you now? Do you feel unwell? Do you need me to come over?”

Xueyin gripped the phone, a war of emotions in her chest. Finally, she typed: “I’m okay now, just I can’t sleep.”

A second later, a voice call request from Nianru appeared. Xueyin stared at it before answering. “Sister.”

“Are you okay?” Nianru’s voice was laced with worry. “Don’t listen to her. Treat her words like the wind.”

“But for a moment, I felt like the hallucination was right,” Xueyin whispered, her lashes trembling. “Sometimes I feel like I’m not a good person. I fail in so many ways, and I have these dark thoughts. When they surface, I feel so much pain and shame, it’s a vicious cycle. I don’t know what to do.”

To Xueyin, Nianru was the moon in the sky, deserving of only the best. She loved her, but felt unworthy, caught in a constant push and pull between bravery and retreat.

Nianru leaned back on the hotel sofa, watching the rain snake down the window. “Humans are creatures that seek benefit and avoid harm. Sometimes that drive clashes with the interests of others or our own morals, and that’s when we face a choice. Having ‘dark thoughts’ is perfectly normal; what matters is what you choose to do. It’s action that defines a person, not their passing thoughts.”

She traced the path of a raindrop on the glass. “Xueyin, you have already done so well. At the very least, you are honest with your own heart.”

“I, I’ve done well?” A stray tear rolled down Xueyin’s cheek. “Really?”

“Mhm.” Nianru stood up and looked out the window. The despair she once felt was gone, replaced by a soft smile. “Xueyin, thank you. I see everything you’ve done.”

From preventing her from drinking the spiked water, to retaliating against those who hurt her, to saving her sister and helping her move abroad, and finally giving up her identity in the Jiang family—every choice had been for Nianru.

Xueyin’s mind felt like it had short-circuited. Her heart hammered against her ribs.

“Goodnight,” Nianru said, her voice a genuine blessing.

“Wait.” Xueyin bit her lip. “Could you not hang up? I feel like.” She glanced at the shrouded mirror across the room. “I feel like she’s afraid to see you.”

“Alright. I won’t hang up.”

The other side of the line went quiet. Xueyin eventually drifted into a beautiful dream where she had been brave enough to ask for Nianru’s number years ago, brave enough to pursue photography on her own terms, and was standing by Nianru’s side without the shadow of a “transmigration” or “ABO” world.

Meanwhile, Nianru dreamed of her past life—the one where Xueyin never came. She watched herself walk toward destruction. Even though Ruan Mingyue saved her, the light in her eyes had died. Betrayed by her parents and her lover, her sister in prison, her career in ruins, she had been a hollow shell.

The next morning, the first thing Xueyin did was check her phone. The call was still active. It was silent; Nianru must have muted herself to avoid waking her.

“Sister Nianru?” she whispered tentatively.

“You’re awake?” The gentle voice came through the earpiece immediately.

“Thank you, Sister. I slept so well.” It felt as if Nianru had been right there beside her.

Nianru laughed softly. “I didn’t do anything but leave the call on.”

“That was enough,” Xueyin said, glancing at the mirror with a secret sense of triumph.

“I’ll be there to pick you up in about half an hour, okay?” Nianru asked.

“Yes! I’ll get ready right now!” Xueyin kept the call active while she washed up.

She tied her hair into a spirited bun and put on a khaki sweatshirt and a brown skirt. She stepped out of her apartment and waited by the road. Within seconds, a black car pulled up. As she hesitated between the front and back seats, the rear window rolled down, revealing Nianru’s kind eyes.

“Get in.”

“Okay.” Xueyin slid into the back seat beside her. Noticing the front passenger seat was empty, she asked, “Is Qingyu not coming?”

“Now that we’re face-to-face, shall I hang up?” Nianru asked, playfully waving her phone in front of Xueyin.

Xueyin nodded. “Go ahead. My battery probably can’t take much more anyway.” Last night, she had kept her phone plugged in just to maintain the call.

“So, from the moment we started talking, she remained silent?” Nianru arched an eyebrow, a trace of curiosity in her eyes.

Xueyin stretched luxuriously, a look of pure contentment on her face. “Exactly. As long as our call was active, she didn’t say a word. She really is afraid of you!”

“It might not necessarily be me; perhaps someone else would have the same effect,” Nianru mused. “Or is it possible that you’re the only one who can see her?”

“If I were the only one who could see or hear her, she wouldn’t feel the need to stay silent when others are around,” Xueyin said candidly. “She admitted she wants to reclaim this body; she certainly won’t risk letting anyone else discover her secret.”

Nianru nodded thoughtfully. “That makes sense.”

Ten minutes later, the car pulled into the hospital parking lot. They went to collect the reports before heading to their follow-up appointment.

The doctor from yesterday wasn’t in, but as luck would have it, Xiao Qingyu’s mentor was on duty. Xueyin registered for a consultation with her.

The doctor sat at her desk, scrolling through Xueyin’s medical records with a focused frown. “Your situation is quite rare,” she noted.

Xueyin’s heart sank. “Is it serious?”

“Based on the reports, everything looks normal for now. However, it’s possible the issues haven’t fully manifested yet. I suggest coming back for another checkup after your next rut,” the doctor explained. She paused before adding, “Alternatively, you might consider psychological counseling. Developing a revulsion toward your own pheromones isn’t always physiological; it can often be psychological.”

Xueyin let out a long breath of relief. “Thank you, doctor.”

Knowing there were no immediate physical concerns, both women felt a significant weight lift from their shoulders.