The White Moonlight of Three Male Leads - Chapter 25

Chapter 25: A Near Encounter Between Feng and Yi

 

After a while, Song Yuyan processed everything and forced a smile.
Song Yuyan: “Tongzi, this manga artist Yi Da… he’s not the male lead Yi Xiangsui, right?”

 

System: “That’s right~ Surprise! Were you shocked? Unexpected?”

 

Song Yuyan ignored the system. His lashes lowered, and the curve on his lips faded.
His slender fingers kept swiping down on the screen.

 

He had already read this manga once, but he was flipping through it again, as if revisiting a long-forgotten story.

 

If you started from the beginning, it would go, “A long, long time ago…”

 

He wasn’t reading to discover something new. He just wanted to read it again.
But he hadn’t expected this familiar story to suddenly feel so different.

 

Every panel felt unfamiliar.

 

The manga still featured two boys as the main characters, but now, they had never met.
Even though they had countless hidden connections—they lived close to each other, attended the same school—they weren’t even in the same class.
And no matter how many threads connected them…

 

They had never met.

 

In different panels, the two boys were just living their own lives.

 

The boy who represented Yi Xiangsui in Song Yuyan’s eyes no longer had that sparkle in his eyes—instead, they were foggy, like a person in a dream, drifting through his days with no direction.

 

Every day was the same. Today and tomorrow—no difference.

 

The other boy, representing Song Yuyan, was still happy—but that happiness no longer included the other boy.

 

They still went to school and came home like normal.
They still went up and down the stairs like normal.

 

Sometimes one boy would be eating breakfast and rushing for the bus.
Sometimes the other would wander downstairs, lost, making his way to class.

 

Many panels showed them in the same positions—looking up, looking down, left, right, forward, back, various expressions and angles…

 

But never once did they cross paths.

 

…

 

Song Yuyan didn’t know what kind of expression he should be making.

 

Maybe… this was Yi Xiangsui’s way of saying he regretted ever meeting him?

 

Song Yuyan: “So in the end, these two boys never meet.”

 

Right after he said that, Yi Xiangsui, almost as if determined to slap him in the face, flipped the story.

 

After graduating college, many years later, the two boys—now grown men—both returned to that old apartment building.
One lived upstairs, one downstairs.

 

Then one day, as they were going down the stairs—They met.

 

Like flowers blooming, a heart skipped a beat.

 

Song Yuyan should’ve closed the tab, but it was like a cat’s paw was tugging at his heart—he couldn’t look away.
No, he had to see the truth.

 

Anything that relied on human emotion was unreliable.

 

Love, for instance, was a feeling. What if one day, you just stopped feeling it?

 

Even if a main character was designed to be faithful to one person forever—how faithful could they really be?

 

In the original plot, the Yi male lead entered the entertainment industry.
No one ever mentioned him becoming a famous manga artist.

 

Now all these changes… were because of him.
This made Song Yuyan freeze momentarily.

 

He kept scrolling.

 

Below were some fan questions that Yi Xiangsui had answered.

 

Some questions fans hadn’t even asked—but Yi clearly had something he desperately wanted to share.

 

Yi Lu: “Where did the inspiration for this manga come from?” It came from life. Originally, this was supposed to be a fluffy story—no matter what, the two characters would always meet.
But later I thought, maybe the sweetness and bitterness in life are pre-determined. There’s only so much of each.”

 

So if the beginning is too sweet, maybe the end will be bitter.
But if the beginning is bitter—Could the ending be sweet?

 

“Could it? I think… yes.”

 

Song Yuyan didn’t read the rest of the replies.

 

He slowly pulled back his hand.
His dark eyes seemed to lose focus.

 

He thought it was something from long ago—but the memories in his mind were vivid and clear.

 

The two girls who had been nearby had already left.
Only he remained, lost in memory, unable to pull himself back out.

 

It had only been three years.
He touched his lips.

 

Those passionate, burning moments all happened within those three years.

 

He had been around handsome guys every day—some level of infatuation was understandable, right?

 

Especially since this guy had clearly never forgotten him.

 

The more Song Yuyan thought about it, the more he felt like a bit of a scumbag.

 

But what could he do?
You can’t have it all.

 

Song Yuyan: “I feel like I did something bad.”

 

System: “Don’t think that way! Even if you didn’t do it, I’d just find someone else.
And if you didn’t do it, you wouldn’t even exist anymore.”

 

System: “So what do you want? A tragic love story, or a tragic life story?”

 

Song Yuyan sobered up.
He could lose love, but absolutely not his life.

 

There were always other people to date.
But he only had one life.

 

On the outside, he lazily blinked—like he was playing a game with his eyelashes.

 

Feng Chengling packed up his bag.

 

He reached out and gently ruffled Song Yuyan’s hair.
The soft strands tickled his palm, making it itch.

 

Feng Chengling comforted him, “Feeling down? Tired? If you’re tired, let’s go back and rest.”

 

Song Yuyan nodded, not really in the mood to speak.

 

He knew he was being dramatic.
But everyone’s allowed a little drama now and then, right?
Even if this wasn’t because of Feng Chengling, they were close enough that he felt safe being dramatic in front of him.

 

Song Yuyan obediently stood up, but didn’t move beyond that.

 

Feng Chengling immediately noticed.

 

A small smile appeared, his dark eyes lighting up like a galaxy in the night.

 

He suppressed the urge to call him something affectionate, and instead grabbed Song Yuyan’s coat and helped him put it on.

 

“Arms up.”
“There. All set.”

 

After zipping him up, he adjusted the scarf snugly around his neck.

 

Everything—perfect.

 

Song Yuyan blinked at him.

 

Feng Chengling really did look like he was dressing a baby.

 

His gaze swept over Feng’s features. What now?
He was starting to feel the evil tendencies in his heart stirring.

 

The two walked out into the wind.

 

Feng Chengling kept stealing glances at him, puzzled.

 

Everything had been fine earlier—what changed?

 

He swallowed the urge to ask.

 

But Song Yuyan noticed how tense Feng was, how nervous he looked.
He couldn’t help but smile.

 

He raised an eyebrow—like the gloom just now had been a complete illusion.

 

Song Yuyan looked up at him. “Does my mood matter that much to you?”

 

Feng Chengling’s gaze fell on his porcelain face.

 

His throat moved. “Yes. It matters a lot. I like you.”

 

Song Yuyan knew he was messed up—always trying to confirm his worth in other people’s eyes.

 

“Oh?” he replied. “Got it.”

 

Feng gave a simple “Mm.”
And didn’t say anything more.

 

As they walked, Song Yuyan noticed—since confessing, Feng hadn’t once looked him in the eyes.

 

He stared straight ahead, saying nothing.
Not asking for a reply.

 

But maybe because of that—Song Yuyan felt even more compelled to speak.

 

“Honestly, it’s not a big deal. I was in a relationship once, and we broke up due to… circumstances. I thought I’d moved on. But I guess I haven’t.”

 

He tried to force a smile. “So yeah… sometimes I feel like maybe I’m not as emotionally strong as I thought.”

 

Feng was silent.
He’d once suspected Song had made that relationship up.

 

But now, after spending time with him, he realized—Song wouldn’t lie about something so trivial.

 

“I thought you wouldn’t linger on the past,” Feng said quietly. “Kind of makes me jealous.”

 

Song Yuyan scrutinized his expression. “…Can’t tell at all.”

 

Feng chuckled and lifted his chin.
His black coat made him look cool, aloof—like a statue under the night sky.

 

“Jealousy doesn’t help. Seizing the moment does.”
Feng said, “Like, maybe… I should confess again?”

 

“…The best way to forget the past is to start something new.
A new relationship. New people. New scenery.”

 

He smiled like it was no big deal. “Like me. Look at me. Don’t I make you feel a bit better?”

 

“If not, we could try a hug. A kiss. Or even more—I’m up for anything.”

 

More… like what?
A one-night stand?

 

Song Yuyan burst out laughing.
Then quickly collected himself.

 

His eyes sparkled, his chin slightly raised. “I’m happy now. That good enough?”

 

Feng nodded.

 

But maybe it was just his imagination—Song thought he heard a trace of regret in Feng’s voice.

 

Once Song’s figure disappeared, Feng finally let out the sigh he’d been holding.

 

What a shame.
Another failed confession?

 

No reply was an answer in itself.

 

…

 

Over the next few days, despite saying he was happy—Song Yuyan was clearly still affected.

 

After talking to himself, he started talking to the system again.

 

Song Yuyan: All your missions hurt people. Don’t you feel guilty?】

 

By now, he understood the system well.

 

For the system, a “White Moonlight” always had to die to become perfect.
Which meant its default method was always a fake-death scenario.

 

System: “Nope! We machines don’t have “guilt” installed!”

 

Song Yuyan: “Got it.”

 

The me that was thinking those thoughts earlier… wasn’t really me.

 

I need to let go. Stop clinging to the past or fearing the future.

 

Live in the moment—not in the anxiety of what was or what could be.

 

System: “…Can you speak human, please?”

 

Song Yuyan: “Translation—after having a deep talk with myself, I’ve transcended. I’m living in the moment.”

 

His face may have been blank, but that didn’t mean he was sad!

 

As for Feng Chengling… what he thought, Song couldn’t control.

 

But what could Feng possibly think?
Of course he was heartbroken and jealous.

 

But that didn’t matter.
What mattered… was that he just wanted Song to be happy.

 

“Go out and have some fun?” Feng offered.

 

Song looked surprised.
Seeing his interest, Feng nodded. “We’ve got the whole day. You decide.”

 

Song thought for a moment. “Nothing I particularly want to do… what about you?”

 

“Me?” Feng was caught off guard. His tongue tied for once. “Nowhere specific…”

 

He regretted it immediately.
He did have a few places in mind—romantic places for confessions.

 

Right now, Feng was a full-blown confession maniac.

 

But he quickly recovered.

 

Song tilted his head. “If I decide, then I won’t hold back.”

 

He had an idea, and together they left campus.

 

“I’ve always wanted to try a murder mystery game—but not alone,” Song said lightly.

 

The sky was blue, the clouds high—everything lifted his mood.

 

Feng responded, “I don’t like doing unfamiliar things alone either. New things can be exciting, but also unsettling.”

 

“I guess I’m more of a traditional type.”

 

Song looked up at him—his eyes bright, lashes fluttering like butterfly wings.

 

He stretched his neck—long, graceful, fragile in its paleness.

 

Song Yuyan: “I kinda want to ask him—how traditional is he?”

 

Traditional physically, or mentally?

 

This man, so restrained, said he was traditional—yet his Adam’s apple bobbed slightly, his face tense, his eyes deep and unreadable…

 

Everything about him screamed restraint, and temptation.

 

Song was about to speak—when the system interrupted, voice flustered.

 

System: “H-Host! Nine o’clock direction—LOOK!”

 

Why couldn’t it just say “main gate”?
Nine o’clock? He had to mentally calculate that.

 

He turned—and froze.

 

His breath caught.
There, in the crowd—was Yi Xiangsui.

 

Even among many people, he stood out like light through fog.

 

Song swallowed hard, body tensing.

 

White moonlight? Sure.
But only when dead is it perfect.
Now that he realized it hadn’t died—he couldn’t breathe.

 

Feng only noticed him suddenly stiffen.

 

Feng: “What is it? New idea?”

 

Song grabbed Feng’s hand and took off running. “No time—just RUN!”

 

Run? Why?

 

Feng had no idea—but was dragged into a full-on sprint.

 

Song ran a bit and then realized—wait, why drag him along?

 

Too late. He was already holding his hand.
Might as well keep going.

 

Feng noticed Song falter, glanced at their joined hands. His expression unreadable.

 

Song pretended nothing happened—and ran on, dragging Feng with him.

 

Now that he noticed…
His face flushed.

 

Their joined hands were now damp with sweat—and he didn’t even know whose it was anymore.

 

…

 

Back at the university gate—Yi Xiangsui’s presence drew every eye.

 

Though not a celebrity, his beauty alone captured attention.

 

His eyes lacked light—like fogged-up glass.

 

He had avoided this place for a long time.

 

He once said he’d secretly visit him.
But after Song’s “death,” he couldn’t bring himself to come.

 

How could someone just die from a car crash?

 

He’d blacked out multiple times—but no matter how devastated he was, he had to face a world without him.

 

Thinking about it always made him cry.

 

He’d redrawn the manga, hoping for a different outcome.

 

But even if there was another outcome, it was just in some parallel universe.

 

That happiness belonged to others.
What did it matter to him?

 

Toward the end of the semester, he posted the final chapter—and a fan asked: What do you want most right now?

 

He replied:
“To see him again.”

 

He hadn’t even gotten to say goodbye.
He vanished, just like that.

 

Now, just because of that thought—memories flooded back even more clearly.

 

“I’ll come secretly to see you.”

 

His voice trembled in memory. His silhouette, hazy like mist.

 

He would come.

 

Unknowingly, he had walked back to that university.
His first time setting foot here.

 

He entered, surrounded by strangers.

 

But he was here.
Even though he knew—he wouldn’t see him.

 

He walked aimlessly.

 

Until—his gaze locked.

 

He thought he saw Song Yuyan.

 

It had happened before.
He’d imagined it countless times.

 

But this time—his heart raced.

 

He couldn’t hold himself back.

 

He ran.

 

Song Yuyan looked back once.

 

Yi looked so thin, like he could be blown over by wind.
Wait, not now! Worry later—he was chasing him now?!

 

How?! He didn’t even assign him a sickly White Moonlight debuff—why was Yi still running faster?!

 

Out of breath, Song was about to collapse when Feng noticed, and reversed their grip—pulling him instead.

 

Being pulled was a lot easier.

 

Feng was sweating, and Song, deeply touched, gasped, “Thank you—I love you!”

 

Feng nearly choked on air.

 

But he quickly composed himself—just a joke, nothing to get excited about.

 

Still, he was getting tired.

 

Luckily, Song spotted an empty classroom.

 

He nodded.
Feng followed.

 

It was around a corner—Yi hadn’t seen them enter. Maybe they escaped this time.

 

Inside, Song still didn’t feel safe—so he crawled under a desk with a front panel.

 

Once hidden, he sighed in relief.

 

Feng immediately followed him in.

 

One person fit perfectly.

 

Two tall guys? Not so much.

 

They were both the tall, handsome type.
Normally considered “male gods.”

 

But two “male gods” in close quarters—especially two who had feelings for each other—
the air began to sizzle.

 

Song moved slightly—his leg brushed another strong thigh.

 

He looked up. Feng’s eyes were darker now.
His jawline tense like a statue.

 

Song tried to shrink back.

 

But there was nowhere left to go.

 

So pitiful.

 

But Feng wanted him to be this pitiful—only because of him, not some other man he’d never met.

 

At that moment, he finally understood jealousy.
And how useless it was.

 

But he still felt it.
And he might just be losing his mind.