Dawn Dream

Deep, hollow darkness; a bone-piercing cold wind; shadowy figures swaying all around him.

Silent lightning spilled a bleak, ghostly green, illuminating everything for an instant before vanishing without a trace.

Shriek!

A crisp birdcall reached Ding Songyan's ears, making him shudder as sparks of awareness burst through his muddled state.

Where was this...

Where was he...

A dream? Ding Songyan suddenly understood, and his earlier memories came flooding back in a chaotic torrent.

Fuck!

He cursed inwardly, full of unwillingness and fury, beginning to understand his current state.

How had he run into a bunch of idiots?

When he was young, he had matured early, been clever, done well in school, and been fairly good at sports. He had always thought highly of himself, looked down on this person and scorned that one, so proud and arrogant that he barely saw anyone else as worthy. Once he left school, though, reality quickly ground him beneath its wheels, shattering his confidence and pride. Though he had been unwilling to admit it, he knew that during those years, he had become both insecure and overly sensitive.

As if a leaking roof had met a night of relentless rain, trouble at home followed. Fortunately, someone had always stayed by his side, encouraging and supporting him, allowing him to slowly seize opportunities while he was trapped in an unhealthy, irrational state that constantly hurt both himself and those around him. Bit by bit, he regained his confidence and pulled himself free. In the end, he succeeded in starting a business and amassed considerable wealth.

He had thought everything would only get better. After the banquet, he had gone with several investors and important partners to a street stall, reminiscing about hard times and dreaming of the future. During that time, an investor had gotten into an argument with several young people at the next table, and shoving had broken out. He had hurried over to break up the fight, hoping to resolve the dispute. Following the principle that a man of wealth should not sit beneath a crumbling wall, and that the fortunate should yield, he had even prepared himself to bend when necessary, apologize on the spot, and wipe away spit from his own face.

Who could have known...

"Bro, are you sick in the head?"

"You stabbed someone over something this small?"

"If you'd told me you were crazy, I would've stayed far away! Better for the damn investor to die than me!"

"Did you have to be this stupidly reckless?"

"Luckily, it looks like he isn't dead yet... Uh, he probably isn't awake yet either..." Ding Songyan's thoughts were still unclear, clouded by confusion.

He tried desperately to wake from this dream, but it felt as though an invisible weight was pressing down on his body. Every step was painfully difficult. His eyes seemed tangled in curtains woven from darkness—when he opened them, he could not see; when he closed them, they would not shut.

Shriek!

The birdcall came again from afar, as though separated from him by an entire world, hazy and indistinct.

Instinctively, Ding Songyan staggered toward the source of the birdcall, stumbling and lurching.

He grew clearer and clearer, walking faster and more easily.

Darkness hung around him like smoke, figures drifted like dreams, and the unceasing birdsong seemed to be the only real thing in this world.

Suddenly, a beam of light shone into the darkness, followed by another, then another.

Ding Songyan's eyes flew open, only for the light to sting them shut again, bringing tears to his eyes.

"Shriek, shriek, shriek, shriek, shriek..."

The crisp, pleasant birdcalls echoed beside Ding Songyan's ears, not far away, seemingly separated by only a wall.

"You're awake?" A delighted voice rang out, more pleasing than the birdsong.

Ding Songyan finally adapted to the brightness and opened his eyes again.

As he sensed the condition of his body and searched for the pain that should have been there, he looked at the person before him.

She was a girl of only fourteen or fifteen, her hair arranged in twin spiral buns. She wore a pale scallion-white short jacket with a straight collar, overlapping front, and silver embroidered trim, along with a light goose-yellow gauze skirt. Her features were as lovely as a painting, fresh and clean, lively and graceful.

At that moment, the girl was squatting in front of Ding Songyan, watching him with concern written across her face.

Ding Songyan had attended plenty of business banquets, eaten well, drunk well, and seen plenty of beauties, yet the girl's appearance still dazzled him for a moment.

But there were other questions he cared about more:

What hospital was this?

Wasn't a nurse wearing Hanfu to work a little too unprofessional? Patients would hardly feel reassured!

"How... am I?" Only after speaking did Ding Songyan realize how dry his throat was, as though his voice no longer belonged to him.

At the same time, he habitually surveyed his surroundings.

The moment he did, he froze again.

This was not a hospital. It was a ruined temple with a damaged statue. Weeds grew thick between the stone bricks, while sunlight poured through holes in the walls and empty windows along with the gradually fading birdcalls. He himself was leaning against a wooden pillar, sitting on the ground.

Mistaken for dead, dumped in the wilderness, then discovered by a Hanfu-clad girl who had come to take pictures? Having devoured countless novels in his school days, such a thought instinctively flashed through Ding Songyan's mind.

He immediately ruled it out. Too many people had witnessed what happened, and there had even been a police car at the intersection. Those idiots could not possibly have had the chance to flee with a "corpse."

The girl answered Ding Songyan's question with great excitement.

"I checked. You're fine!"

Fine? Ding Songyan lowered his head and looked at his abdomen.

It did not hurt at all... This setting... These clothes...

Could he have... transmigrated?

No! He had not even started enjoying life yet!

Ding Songyan slowly raised his head and looked at the girl, choosing his words carefully as he asked tentatively,

"Who... are you?"

He had just done his best to examine the condition of this body, but he had found not even the smallest fragment of memory. Instead, his own past memories had become clear once more because of what had happened earlier.

In this situation, if he pretended in order to conceal the fact that he knew nothing, it would be difficult not to reveal flaws during future daily interactions. No amount of quick thinking could help, because one lie needed more lies to cover it up. Once he had to lie about everything, being exposed would only be a matter of time.

Therefore, before he had any concrete understanding of his circumstances, telling "partial truths" was the better choice. Then he would not have to rack his brains acting every day, constantly on edge. The people around him would find reasonable explanations themselves.

The girl with twin spiral buns straightened slightly, her eyes instantly lighting up. In the tone of a performer in a variety play, she replied with a smile,

"My dear little brother, you don't recognize your sister anymore?"

As she spoke, she watched Ding Songyan's face and found that he remained serious, brows furrowed.

"..." The smile on the girl's face instantly froze. With a hint of terror, she blurted out, "Second Brother, you don't remember me?"

Ding Songyan slowly shook his head and replied with complete sincerity,

"I don't remember anything."

The girl crouching before Ding Songyan abruptly straightened up.

"Quick! We have to go home right away and have Mother and Father take you to a clinic to find a physician... Ah!"

She stopped halfway through standing, as still as an image painted on silk.

"What's wrong?" Ding Songyan asked instinctively.

The girl pulled a miserable face and muttered,

"My legs are numb."

Ding Songyan slightly raised his head and looked toward the cobweb-covered rafters.

He rose as well, confirming that he wore a moon-white scholar's robe. His height was about the same as before transmigrating, close to one meter eighty.

"Okay, okay!" The girl finally recovered and reached out to grab Ding Songyan's sleeve, intending to pull him outside.

Without drawing attention to it, Ding Songyan stepped back, causing her hand to grasp at empty air.

"Uh..." The girl looked up at Ding Songyan's face, her clear black-and-white eyes full of confusion.

Ding Songyan asked slowly,

"How do you prove you're my biological younger sister?"

"Th-this..." The girl was completely dumbfounded, as though she had never imagined she might one day be asked such a question.

Her lips moved several times, but no words came out.

Ding Songyan explained solemnly,

"Miss, I don't remember anything. If you were a bad person and I trusted your words too easily, then followed you home, wouldn't I encounter something truly terrifying?"

"Th-that's true..." The girl was clearly persuaded. Then her eyes shifted. "I know! I know what to do! I'll go back first and call Father and Mother over. They can prove that I'm your biological younger sister!"

Ding Songyan glanced at the girl, who had not yet fully grown into her looks.

"Then how do we prove the people who come are my father and mother?"

"..." The girl forgot to close her mouth.

After several breaths, her lips pursed, and a faint, nearly imperceptible mist veiled her lively eyes.

Aggrieved, anxious, and on the verge of collapse, she cried,

"I'll have the neighbors come prove it! I'll take you to the yamen! Father is a clerk at the yamen, and all his colleagues can prove he's your real father! I'm your biological younger sister..."

"All right, I believe you," Ding Songyan suddenly said.

"Ah..." The girl stared at Ding Songyan blankly.

He believed her just like that?

Ding Songyan nodded lightly.

"I can sense your sincerity, miss."

She had voluntarily suggested going to the yamen to verify it and mentioned so many supporting witnesses. He could tentatively conclude that she was not lying to deceive him.

I'll bet you've never watched The Truman Show!

"Sincerity..." The girl tilted her head slightly and carefully scrutinized Ding Songyan for a while. Not sounding very confident, she murmured, "How about... we still go to the yamen and verify it? You've talked me into nearly suspecting that you aren't my Second Brother. We should let other people take a look too... The clothes... the face... the height... the birthmark... they all match..."

Right in front of the girl, Ding Songyan checked the condition of his body and found no wounds. His energy was also quite abundant.

Imitating what he had seen in television dramas and novels, he cupped his hands and asked,

"Miss, how should I address you?"

"How should you address me?" The girl seemed suddenly amused. "You usually call me Little Sister. Second Brother, you really have forgotten everything."

After thinking for a moment, she explained in detail,

"You're my Second Brother. Above you, there's an eldest brother. Father and Mother are both still alive. At present, we're staying in Dingjiang Prefecture with our cousin from Mother's side, Sister Qin. We've already been here for more than half a year.

"My given name is Qingyan. From now on, you can call me Little Sister or Sister Qingyan."

Ding Songyan processed her words and deliberately allowed his attitude to soften.

"Then what is our surname?"

Ding Qingyan made an "Mm" sound and scratched a loose strand of dark hair outside her bun.

"Second Brother, you don't even remember your own surname? Our surname is Ding."

Ding... Ding Songyan's gaze narrowed, and a sudden premonition struck him.

"Then what is my name?"

Ding Qingyan tilted her head slightly again and looked at Ding Songyan for a moment. Then she sighed and said gloomily, with some sadness,

"Your name is Ding Songyan."