A dawn dream

Deep, cavernous darkness, cold winds that pierced the marrow, shadowy figures swaying all around him.

Soundless lightning cast a sickly green glow, illuminating everything for an instant before vanishing without a trace.

Chirp!

A clear birdcall reached Ding Songyan's ears, making him shudder as sparks of awareness flared in his muddled mind.

Where...

Where am I...

A dream? Ding Songyan suddenly understood something, and his earlier memories came flooding back.

Fuck!

He cursed inwardly, seething with resentment and frustration, beginning to understand the state he was in.

How did I end up running into those idiots?

In his youth, he had been precocious, clever, good at his studies, and fairly athletic. He had always thought highly of himself, looking down on this person and turning up his nose at that one, so proud and arrogant that he hardly considered anyone worth his attention. Once he left school, however, the real world quickly ground him under its heel, shattering his confidence and pride. Though he was reluctant to admit it, he knew that during that period, he had become both insecure and oversensitive.

As if a leaking roof weren't enough, the rain poured all night: trouble struck his family, too. Fortunately, someone had always stayed by his side, encouraging and supporting him. Even as he struggled through an unhealthy, irrational state in which he constantly hurt himself and those around him, he slowly seized opportunities, recovered his confidence bit by bit, and found his way out. At last, he built a successful business and amassed a considerable fortune.

He had thought everything would only get better. After a banquet, he had chosen to continue the evening at a street-food stall with several investors and important partners, reminiscing about past hardships, savoring their present success, and envisioning the future. During this, an investor got into an argument with some young men at the next table, and they began shoving each other. He hurried over to break up the fight and defuse the dispute. Mindful that a wealthy man should not sit beneath a crumbling eave, and that those with happy lives could afford to give way, he had even prepared to bend rather than break, apologize on the spot, and let any spit on his face dry by itself. Who could have known...

Buddy, are you fucking sick in the head?

You pulled a knife and stabbed someone over something this trivial?

If you'd told me you were crazy, I would've kept my distance! Better a dead investor than a dead me!

Did you really have to be that much of a moron?

"Good thing... looks like I'm not dead yet... uh, probably not awake yet, either..." Ding Songyan's thoughts were still far from clear, steeped in a lingering haze.

He struggled to wake himself from the dream, but felt as though an invisible weight pinned down his body, making every step agonizingly difficult. His eyes seemed wrapped in curtains woven from darkness: open, they could see nothing; shut, they would not close properly.

Chirp!

Another birdcall drifted from afar, hazy and indistinct, as though from another world.

Instinctively, Ding Songyan headed toward the sound, stumbling and staggering.

He grew increasingly lucid, his steps quicker and easier.

The surrounding darkness was like smoke, the figures like dreams, and the persistent birdsong seemed the only real thing in this world.

Suddenly, a ray of light pierced the darkness, followed by another and another.

Ding Songyan's eyes snapped open, only to squeeze shut again under the stabbing light, tears welling up.

"Chirp, chirp, chirp..."

Clear, pleasant birdsong echoed in Ding Songyan's ears from somewhere nearby, seemingly just beyond a wall.

"You're awake?" A voice rang out in delighted surprise, sweeter than the birdsong.

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

As he assessed his body's condition, searching for the pain that ought to have been there, he looked at the person before him.

She was a girl of only fourteen or fifteen, her hair arranged in two spiral buns. She wore a scallion-white, straight-collared short jacket with silver embroidery along the edges and an open front, paired with a light, gauzy skirt in pale yellow. Her features were as lovely as a painting, fresh and clean, lively and delicate.

At that moment, the girl was crouching in front of Ding Songyan, watching him with concern.

Ding Songyan had attended plenty of business banquets, eaten and drunk his fill, and seen a great deal, yet the girl's beauty still dazzled him for a moment.

However, other questions concerned him more:

What hospital is this?

Isn't wearing traditional Chinese dress to work a little unprofessional for a nurse? It doesn't exactly reassure the patient!

"How... am I... doing?" Only after speaking did Ding Songyan notice how dry his throat was, as though his voice still did not belong to him.

At the same time, he habitually began surveying his surroundings.

That look left him stunned again:

This was no hospital, but a ruined temple with a damaged statue of a deity. Weeds sprouted between the stone floor tiles, and sunlight streamed through holes and empty windows, accompanied by the gradually fading birdsong. He was sitting on the ground, leaning against a wooden pillar.

They mistook me for dead, dumped my body out in the wilderness, and a girl in traditional dress came across me while taking photos? Having read countless novels during his school days, Ding Songyan instinctively entertained this possibility.

He immediately dismissed it. There had been plenty of witnesses, and even a police car at the street corner. Those idiots were unlikely to have had a chance to flee with his "corpse."

The girl answered Ding Songyan's question cheerfully:

"I checked. You're fine!"

Fine? Ding Songyan lowered his head to inspect his abdomen.

It doesn't hurt at all... this setting... these clothes...

Don't tell me I've transmigrated?

No! I haven't even started enjoying my life yet!

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

"Who... are you?"

He had just made a concerted effort to examine his current body from within, but had found not a single fragment of memory. Instead, his own past memories had grown clear again because of what he had experienced earlier.

Under these circumstances, if he put on an act to conceal the fact that he knew nothing, he would find it nearly impossible not to give himself away in their subsequent daily interactions. No amount of quick thinking would help, because one lie required more lies to cover it up. When he had to lie about everything, being exposed was only a matter of time.

Thus, while he still lacked any concrete understanding of his situation, telling "part of the truth" was the better choice. He would not have to rack his brains putting on a performance or live in dread every day afterward; the people around him would come up with reasonable explanations themselves.

The girl with the twin spiral buns straightened back a little, her eyes instantly lighting up. Smiling, she answered in the theatrical tone of a stage performer:

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

As she spoke, she watched Ding Songyan's face, noticing that he remained solemn, his brow furrowed.

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

Ding Songyan slowly shook his head and replied with utter sincerity:

"I don't remember anything."

The girl crouching before Ding Songyan abruptly straightened:

"Quick! Let's hurry home and have Mother and Father take you to a clinic to see a doctor... ow!"

Halfway through getting up, she suddenly stopped, as though she had become a portrait painted on silk.

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

The girl pulled a miserable face and mumbled:

"My legs have gone numb."

Ding Songyan tipped his head back slightly and looked at the cobweb-covered rafters.

He rose as well, confirming that he wore a pale, moon-white robe with a horizontal band near the hem, and that his height was about the same as before his transmigration, close to six feet.

"All better, all better!" The girl finally recovered and reached for Ding Songyan's sleeve, intending to tug him outside.

Ding Songyan unobtrusively took a step back, leaving her hand grasping empty air.

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

Ding Songyan asked slowly:

"How can you prove you're my younger sister?"

"Well... I..." The girl froze completely, as though she had never imagined a day when someone might ask her such a question.

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

With an earnest expression, Ding Songyan explained:

"Miss, I don't remember anything. If you were a bad person, and I blindly believed you and followed you home, wouldn't something terribly frightening happen to me?"

"That... that's true..." Clearly persuaded, the girl then shifted her eyes. "I know! I know what to do! I'll go back first and fetch Father and Mother. They can prove I'm your younger sister!"

Ding Songyan glanced at the girl, who had yet to grow fully into her features:

"Then how can you prove the people you bring are my father and mother?"

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

After a few breaths, her lips turned down, and a faint mist clouded her lively eyes.

Feeling wronged, and with a measure of urgency and desperation, she cried:

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

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

"Huh..." The girl gazed at Ding Songyan in bewilderment.

He believes me just like that?

Ding Songyan nodded slightly:

"I can sense your sincerity, miss."

Since she had volunteered to go to the government office for verification and mentioned so many corroborating witnesses, he could tentatively conclude that she was not lying to deceive him.

I bet you've never seen The Truman Show!

"Sincerity..." The girl tilted her head slightly and studied Ding Songyan carefully for a while, then murmured without much confidence, "Maybe we should still go to the government office and confirm it? You've talked me into almost doubting that you're my second brother. We ought to have other people take a look, too... the clothes... the face... the height... the birthmark... they're all right..."

In front of the girl, Ding Songyan examined his body, finding no wounds and feeling quite energetic.

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

"Miss, may I ask how I should address you?"

"How should you address me?" The girl suddenly looked a little amused. "You normally call me Little Sister. Second Brother, you really have forgotten everything."

She thought for a moment, then explained in detail:

"You're my second brother, and we have an eldest brother above you. Father and Mother are both alive. We're currently in Dingjiang Prefecture, where we came to stay with Sister Qin from our aunt's family. It's been over half a year now.

"My given name is Qingyan. You can call me Little Sister or Sister Qingyan."

Ding Songyan digested her words, deliberately letting his manner soften:

"Then what's our surname?"

The girl, Qingyan, made a small "hmm" sound and scratched at 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 sharpened slightly as a sudden premonition arose:

"Then what's my name?"

Ding Qingyan tilted her head slightly again and watched Ding Songyan for a moment, then sighed and replied in a subdued, somewhat sorrowful voice:

"Your name is Ding Songyan."

P.S. Another chapter will be up in a few minutes.