Best Actress A and Her White Moonlight - Chapter 1

Lin Wanchun blinked slowly, once, then twice.

A weathered street, the noisy cries of vendors, pedestrians hurrying by—as they brushed past her, they couldn’t help but look back, their eyes filled with a mix of stunning admiration and confusion.

The scenery before her remained unchanged.

But clearly…

Clearly, just a few minutes ago, she had been at a film awards ceremony in Country M.

The host’s sharp voice had cut through the air like the shriek of a boiling kettle:

“The Best Actress of the 75th Academy Awards is—Congratulations, Lin Wanchun!”

The cheers and applause had been exceptionally fervent. The spotlight landed on her head, and the high-definition lenses didn’t miss a single shift in her expression.

With indifferent eyes and a faint expression, she had lifted her skirt and walked onto the podium amidst the gaze of thousands.

Her fiery red gown swayed with her every step, its intense hue so striking that a lesser wearer would have been washed out, reduced to a mere accessory for the dress.

But this was Lin Wanchun.

That face—a literal masterpiece of the Creator—easily took command. Everyone’s gaze, whether intentional or involuntary, fell entirely upon her.

Lin Wanchun had stepped onto the stage and gripped the microphone. Before she could speak, the venue’s sound system malfunctioned, emitting a piercing, droning hum.

Subconsciously, she covered her ears, her brow furrowing slightly. Her long eyelashes, like the delicate wings of a butterfly, fluttered down, bringing a moment of darkness.

After that brief blink, she opened her eyes. The star-studded ceremony had vanished, replaced by an old street that felt vaguely familiar amidst its strangeness.

Lin Wanchun stared blankly, the host’s broken Chinese inquiry still seeming to echo in her ears.

My illness has gotten worse, she thought.

She blinked again. The hallucination did not fade, but the host’s voice vanished completely.

Lin Wanchun’s expression remained unchanged as she spoke slowly: “It is a great honor to receive…”

From the distance came the long chime of a school bell, followed by a chaotic clamor of voices that easily drowned out her “meticulously prepared” acceptance speech.

Lin Wanchun looked up dazed, her clear amber pupils showing a childlike bewilderment.

A massive sense of emptiness manifested as if it were a physical entity—a pitch-black monster opening its maw to swallow her whole.

She had forgotten her lines.

The acceptance speech her manager had insisted she memorize perfectly was tossed to the back of her mind. Her gaze focused uncontrollably on a girl not far away, dressed in a bulky, ugly blue-and-white school uniform.

The girl moved slowly with the crowd. Her sixteen-year-old face required no adornment to be breathtakingly beautiful.

Lin Wanchun thought: I’ve gone mad. The symptoms are severe.

Severe enough to be sent to an asylum immediately.

[Hello, Lin Wanchun. I am Time Administrator 007. In your terms, you may call me a System.]

Even knowing this was a delusion concocted by a fractured mind, she couldn’t pull her eyes away from the girl. Even as her eyes grew sore, she couldn’t bear to blink.

[I apologize. A rift has appeared in this world’s timeline, causing you to appear at a point in time where you should not exist.]

Lin Wanchun covered her ears, trying to block out the fragmented whispering. She forced her gaze away and squeezed her aching, tear-filled eyes shut.

The electronic voice in her head blurred into meaningless background noise. In the darkness, she silently thanked fate for this gift.

Gu Chenxing, ten years after your death, I finally see you again.

Receiving no response for a long time, the System sharpened its tone: [Lin Wanchun, the time you are currently in… is seventeen years ago.]

“Has my hallucination reached this level of severity?” Lin Wanchun let out a light, mocking laugh.

The cold wind bit at her exposed arms, causing goosebumps to rise. Her icy fingers touched the edge of the scent-blocking patch on the back of her neck.

Once removed, the pheromones of a top-tier Alpha would explode instantly.

[This is not a delusion,] the System emphasized urgently, sensing her intent. [Lin Wanchun! You really have returned to seventeen years ago!]

Lin Wanchun turned a deaf ear. Her fingertips applied slight pressure, peeling back the edge of the patch. A faint scent of camellia leaked out.

“Are you okay?”

Suddenly, a clear voice interrupted the System’s high-pitched screeching. Lin Wanchun’s tightly closed eyes trembled and slowly opened, crashing unprepared into the girl’s pitch-black eyes.

The streetlights flickered on, their faint glow reflecting in the girl’s eyes like shimmering stars.

“Did something happen? You…” Gu Chenxing’s voice stopped abruptly. Her pale lips parted slightly as she hesitated.

Moving swiftly, she stripped off her blue-and-white winter school jacket and draped it over the shoulders of the woman in the red dress. Ransacking her mind for the right words and finding none, she could only offer clumsy comfort: “It’s okay, it’s okay now.”

She didn’t know what this woman had been through, but seeing those eyes brimming with tears made her own heart ache uncontrollably.

The tears neutralized the woman’s sharp, cold aura. She looked as fragile as a cracked porcelain doll, at risk of collapsing and shattering at any moment.

Gu Chenxing was at a loss. Finally, she gritted her teeth, summoned her courage, and let her palm rest as lightly as possible on the woman’s shoulder.

Lin Wanchun came to her senses under the gentle touch. Her hand, which had been hooked around the scent patch, loosened at some unknown point and fell to her side.

She looked down and saw her own disheveled, tear-streaked face reflected in the girl’s clean pupils.

“Gu Chenxing…”

I missed you so much.

Gu Chenxing blinked, looking puzzled. “How do you know my name?”

“Gu Xingxing!”

A companion’s voice called out from a nearby stall. “Do you want chili sauce on your jianbing guozi?”

“No!!!” Gu Chenxing turned her head and shouted back.

“Hurry up! The homeroom teacher is going to do rounds before evening self-study!”

Gu Chenxing looked back. She scratched the back of her head, hesitating. She remembered her teacher’s legendary record of scolding students from morning till night without repeating a single word.

She shivered. Ignoring the inexplicable feeling in her heart, she quickly bid the beauty farewell: “I have to go back. You keep the jacket!”

She ran a few steps, then looked back worriedly to remind her: “The weather is too cold! Go home early, take a hot bath, and get some sleep! When you wake up tomorrow, it’ll be a beautiful day again!”

With that, she flew toward her friend like a little brown bird.

Lin Wanchun stood still. Faintly, she could hear the girl discussing with her friend:

“Who was that?”

Gu Chenxing answered with her mouth full, chewing busily: “I… don’t know her.”

“You don’t know her and you still went up to talk? You even gave her your jacket?”

“Because she’s pretty! Don’t you think she’s beautiful?” As Gu Chenxing spoke, she couldn’t help but look back. From this distance, she couldn’t see the woman’s expression, but she could sense a profound sorrow emanating from that fiery red silhouette.

Her hand dropped slightly, and her chewing slowed down.

I wonder… if she’s still crying.

Her friend continued to prattle: “She is pretty. Even the beautiful sisters in that magazine Zhou Xi brought aren’t as good-looking. Wait! You’re distracting me, your uniform…”

They walked too far away. The remaining words were swept away by the cold wind.

Lin Wanchun felt the cold belatedly. She grabbed both sides of the open jacket and pulled it tight, huddling into the residual warmth.

It felt as if…

As if she were being held by her.

[Now, can you listen to me? Ms. Lin Wanchun?] The emotionless electronic voice managed to sound like it was speaking through gritted teeth.

In a daze, Lin Wanchun wrapped the blue-and-white uniform tighter, as if she could draw more warmth this way.

Gu Chenxing’s back disappeared from her sight. Her gaze gradually blurred, like a puppet slowly losing its soul.

From beginning to end, she hadn’t spared a single thought for the voice calling itself a System.

“I should wake up,” she said. “Otherwise, people will worry.”

But she didn’t know how to wake up. She could only stand lonely on the street like a rare beast in a zoo, allowing the passersby to stare and whisper.

A beautiful, tear-stained woman was eye-catching anywhere—especially in the cold of December, wearing a red mermaid dress that traced her perfect curves.

Tiny pearls were scattered across the hem. Even in the gray weather, they possessed an arrogant luster.

The bitter wind blew, making Lin Wanchun’s thin frame shiver uncontrollably.

She stared at the pearls on her gown, silently counting the beats of her heart.

Her exposed hands had long since gone numb. Her nerves were slow, only now transmitting the pain back to her brain.

She loosened her grip. The cold zipper of the jacket had unknowingly pierced her palm. Specks of blood looked like red plum blossoms blooming in her hand, vivid and striking.

Her glazed amber eyes were jolted awake by the scarlet color. A flash of shock crossed them.

The pain and cold were too real. Even the distant whispers were exceptionally clear to an Alpha’s superior hearing.

A dream or a hallucination could not last this long or feel this tangible.

Remembering something, Lin Wanchun began to stagger forward.

The sharp heels of her shoes landed in the cracks of the broken stone pavement time and again; it took a great deal of effort to pull them out.

Finally, an old-fashioned school appeared. A large plaque came into view:

Nanshi High School.

Lin Wanchun couldn’t describe her feelings. The blood in her body began to surge rapidly. The scent-blocking patch could no longer restrain the erupting pheromones.

In an instant, the rich fragrance of camellias exploded. Even if an entire mountain of camellias bloomed at once, it wouldn’t match the intensity of this scent.

[Lin Wanchun.] The System’s patience was exhausted. It issued a cold, final warning: [As an outsider in this timeline, you can only stay here for seven years at most.]

“Cough—what is that smell—”

“An Alpha’s pheromones are out of control!!”

The sounds of the panicking crowd were blocked out by her chaotic mind. Despite the pheromones raging like madness, her face remained as calm as still water. She heard the cold electronic voice in her head:

[Two ‘Lin Wanchuns’ cannot exist in one timeline simultaneously.]

[You have only two choices. Kill the ‘you’ of this timeline, and you will take her place.]

Lin Wanchun saw personnel from the Alpha Control Center rushing in, wearing heavy protective suits. They were shouting something, their breath fogging up their masks and blurring their mouths.

The cold and the pheromone surge had drained too much of her strength, making her nerves sluggish. She allowed seven or eight hands to pin her to the ground and felt a cold needle pierce the gland on the back of her neck.

A heavy drowsiness swept over her. Her eyelids began to droop, yet they forced themselves open in a final act of will.

She was still waiting—waiting for the System’s final judgment.

[Or, in seven years, you will be replaced by the Lin Wanchun of this timeline. You will completely vanish into the rift of time.]

Having received the final answer, Lin Wanchun stopped her futile struggle. She let the drug take effect, eroding her consciousness.

Just before the darkness swallowed her completely, she saw the sleeve of the blue-and-white jacket fall into the dirt. It was trampled by many feet, stained a dusty gray, losing its original color until it was utterly filthy.