Translator: death from dummytranslations
Editor: Mimishijie 😊
Moonlight Forget-Me-Not (2)
---

“Hello and welcome back, Mr Yan.”
　　
The familiar electronic female voice had been personally adjusted by himself and was very warm. It was the voice of a confidant, someone he felt he could say anything to, rather than one that was cold and detached, or the cloying voice of a young girl.
　　
“En.”
　　
Yan Shuo responded softly. This was his secret diary, using the form of dialogue to save his words.
He brewed a cup of coffee and the flavour gradually began to brim outwards. It was a kind of dark aroma, beginning around somewhere near the base of the tongue and usually accompanied with a slight roughness, yet when it returned it was very fragrant. Hence there was both bitter and sweet, as if that itself was the charm.

　　
Occasionally, when his mother came over, she would dislike that the entire house was filled with the distinct, bitter smell. She would say that since the house already lacked personality, having the smell linger would seem like he didn’t want people to set foot in it even more.

And she was most likely right. He had an intense need for privacy in the first place, so strong it was almost paranoia. Yet his paranoia didn’t emerge as just a need for space. Suppressing his emotions since he was a child had caused a certain amount of distortion in his nature. His requirements of himself were harsh and demanding. It was only natural that he would fulfil these requirements outstandingly. It was equally natural that sometimes he would feel as if he was utterly unable to breathe.

　　
When he was younger he’d gone through a period of clinical depression and self-destructive behaviour, although fortunately, his formidable self-control had stretched his consciousness taut into a balance that was just right. At the time, he had told himself that he could only die after he’d obtained everything he wanted, otherwise it was too much of a waste.

It was a pity, then, that when he reached adulthood he finally began attempting to manage the extremities of his mental state, thus he never finished walking the path of self-destruction. Although, it could also be considered a good thing.
　　
One method was recording his diary. He didn’t necessarily do it every day, only recording a few particular moments.

　　
“Today’s weather was pretty good,” His legs were crossed, greeting the electronic voice. It was as if he were reuniting with an old friend on a wintery night; his intonation of the last syllables was pleased, “It’s unfortunate that there’s no way for you to go out and enjoy it.”
　　
“Oh,” The electronic female voice possessed a certain intelligence, “I feel it is actually your mood that is pretty good.”
　　
Yan Shuo smiled lightly. In actuality, the curve of his smile wasn’t large, but this already showed how cheerful he was.

He took out the bouquet that he’d just bought. It wasn’t too big, the size just right for him to carry it in his arms.
　　
In the bundle of fresh moonlight forget-me-nots, the white flowers lay dormant in front of the jade-green leaves.
　　
“Last time, what was it I said?”
　　
“Hello, the last record was eight days ago,” The electronic voice repeated the last sentence of the previous recording, “You had recorded last, ‘I feel like I’ll have an argument with him, which causes me pain, but I am also glad that I’ll at least have the chance to argue with him.’”
　　
Listening to what had been recorded in his last diary entry, Mr Yan felt a bit of shame. Though the electronic voice was only electronic after all, so he quickly regained his senses.

　　
“Yes, it sounds very sad,” Yan Shuo laughed mockingly at himself. His finger gently stroked a soft flower petal, the pad of his finger feeling the brocade-grade silkiness, “But now it has taken a turn, this couldn’t be better.”

　　
The electronic female voice didn’t reply this time. Unless he mentioned it, she would continue being a perfect conversation partner.
　　
“These flowers are called moonlight forget-me-nots,” He didn’t get right to the point, only stroking the petal as if he were recalling something, “When I first saw this type of flower, my mother was holding them in her arms and weeping. This variation of white forget-me-nots are very special, just like the illumination of moonlight, so it has this kind of name.”
　　
“And since something like white moonlight is always unattainable, it’s meaning in the language of flowers is - an unattainable love.” [1]

　　
Speaking up to here, he raised his eyebrows, bowing his head to sip the coffee. A sliver of disappointment and frustration appeared in his eyes. It could be seen at a glance.
　　
“Although ever since Yan Zhengde took her as his wife, I never saw her buy these flowers anymore. It’s like she has forgotten how full of remorse she was all those years ago; of course, there’s nothing bad about that. I raised my eyebrows and grumbled at the realisation of her long-held wish, but this was the biggest turn of her life, worthy of celebration.”
　　
His tone held something perceptive, with a hint of sarcasm.
　　
“I just didn’t expect my own fate to seem like a reincarnation,” He mockingly laughed at himself again, “Before I met him again, I never thought that someday I would be like her, holding these flowers, full of remorse.”
　　
“You can’t say for sure, perhaps this is a good thing.” The electronic female voice, after hearing a few keywords, would give a fixed answer.
　　
“And yet, from certain aspects you could say that this is also a type of mental cultivation,” He contemplated, “After all, before him, I never had this kind of desire for the unattainable. Just thinking of last week, or even as early as yesterday, it was a downright tragedy.”
　　
“Everything will be alright.” The electronic voice gently, without the slightest emotion, replied to him once again.

Scroll down for actual chapter

Translator: death from dummytranslations
Editor: Mimishijie 😊
Moonlight Forget-Me-Not (2)
---

“Hello and welcome back, Mr Yan.”
　　
The familiar electronic female voice had been personally adjusted by himself and was very warm. It was the voice of a confidant, someone he felt he could say anything to, rather than one that was cold and detached, or the cloying voice of a young girl.
　　
“En.”
　　
Yan Shuo responded softly. This was his secret diary, using the form of dialogue to save his words.
He brewed a cup of coffee and the flavour gradually began to brim outwards. It was a kind of dark aroma, beginning around somewhere near the base of the tongue and usually accompanied with a slight roughness, yet when it returned it was very fragrant. Hence there was both bitter and sweet, as if that itself was the charm.

　　
Occasionally, when his mother came over, she would dislike that the entire house was filled with the distinct, bitter smell. She would say that since the house already lacked personality, having the smell linger would seem like he didn’t want people to set foot in it even more.


And she was most likely right. He had an intense need for privacy in the first place, so strong it was almost paranoia. Yet his paranoia didn’t emerge as just a need for space. Suppressing his emotions since he was a child had caused a certain amount of distortion in his nature. His requirements of himself were harsh and demanding. It was only natural that he would fulfil these requirements outstandingly. It was equally natural that sometimes he would feel as if he was utterly unable to breathe.

　　
When he was younger he’d gone through a period of clinical depression and self-destructive behaviour, although fortunately, his formidable self-control had stretched his consciousness taut into a balance that was just right. At the time, he had told himself that he could only die after he’d obtained everything he wanted, otherwise it was too much of a waste.

It was a pity, then, that when he reached adulthood he finally began attempting to manage the extremities of his mental state, thus he never finished walking the path of self-destruction. Although, it could also be considered a good thing.
　　
One method was recording his diary. He didn’t necessarily do it every day, only recording a few particular moments.

　　
“Today’s weather was pretty good,” His legs were crossed, greeting the electronic voice. It was as if he were reuniting with an old friend on a wintery night; his intonation of the last syllables was pleased, “It’s unfortunate that there’s no way for you to go out and enjoy it.”
　　
“Oh,” The electronic female voice possessed a certain intelligence, “I feel it is actually your mood that is pretty good.”
　　
Yan Shuo smiled lightly. In actuality, the curve of his smile wasn’t large, but this already showed how cheerful he was.

He took out the bouquet that he’d just bought. It wasn’t too big, the size just right for him to carry it in his arms.
　　
In the bundle of fresh moonlight forget-me-nots, the white flowers lay dormant in front of the jade-green leaves.
　　
“Last time, what was it I said?”
　　
“Hello, the last record was eight days ago,” The electronic voice repeated the last sentence of the previous recording, “You had recorded last, ‘I feel like I’ll have an argument with him, which causes me pain, but I am also glad that I’ll at least have the chance to argue with him.’”
　　
Listening to what had been recorded in his last diary entry, Mr Yan felt a bit of shame. Though the electronic voice was only electronic after all, so he quickly regained his senses.

　　
“Yes, it sounds very sad,” Yan Shuo laughed mockingly at himself. His finger gently stroked a soft flower petal, the pad of his finger feeling the brocade-grade silkiness, “But now it has taken a turn, this couldn’t be better.”
　　
The electronic female voice didn’t reply this time. Unless he mentioned it, she would continue being a perfect conversation partner.
　　
“These flowers are called moonlight forget-me-nots,” He didn’t get right to the point, only stroking the petal as if he were recalling something, “When I first saw this type of flower, my mother was holding them in her arms and weeping. This variation of white forget-me-nots are very special, just like the illumination of moonlight, so it has this kind of name.”
　　
“And since something like white moonlight is always unattainable, it’s meaning in the language of flowers is - an unattainable love.” [1]

　　
Speaking up to here, he raised his eyebrows, bowing his head to sip the coffee. A sliver of disappointment and frustration appeared in his eyes. It could be seen at a glance.
　　
“Although ever since Yan Zhengde took her as his wife, I never saw her buy these flowers anymore. It’s like she has forgotten how full of remorse she was all those years ago; of course, there’s nothing bad about that. I raised my eyebrows and grumbled at the realisation of her long-held wish, but this was the biggest turn of her life, worthy of celebration.”
　　
His tone held something perceptive, with a hint of sarcasm.
　　
“I just didn’t expect my own fate to seem like a reincarnation,” He mockingly laughed at himself again, “Before I met him again, I never thought that someday I would be like her, holding these flowers, full of remorse.”
　　
“You can’t say for sure, perhaps this is a good thing.” The electronic female voice, after hearing a few keywords, would give a fixed answer.

　　
“And yet, from certain aspects you could say that this is also a type of mental cultivation,” He contemplated, “After all, before him, I never had this kind of desire for the unattainable. Just thinking of last week, or even as early as yesterday, it was a downright tragedy.”
　　
“Everything will be alright.” The electronic voice gently, without the slightest emotion, replied to him once again.

Chapter 9: https://dummytranslations.blogspot.com/p/generals-cat-chapter-9.html