Was it Zhuangzi dreaming of being a butterfly, or the butterfly dreaming of Zhuangzi?

A hazy glow shrouded the world before Bai Su’s eyes. Within the blur, a strangely familiar silhouette darted about—clumsy as a monkey scrambling in chaos.

The sharp sting of antiseptic filled his nose. Muffled chatter buzzed in his ears, twisting his gut with inexplicable irritation.

His eyelids weighed a thousand pounds. He couldn’t pry them open. His entire body felt shackled by invisible chains, frozen in place.

*Damn it all,* Bai Su thought helplessly.

His last memory surfaced: stumbling through that twisted, foul-smelling corridor. A circle of well-dressed beasts clinked wine glasses under dazzling chandeliers. The scene shimmered like Dante’s Inferno—monstrous revelry draped in rotten glamour.

They rose with fake smiles, toasting him. Golden liquid glinted in crystal glasses thrust toward him.

Bai Su plastered on a nauseating grin, feigning humility as he drained cup after cup of jealousy and flattery.

Time blurred.

When another glass appeared before him, he lurched upright like a rusted puppet. His fingers closed around the cool glass—then his mind went blank.

A vital string inside him snapped. Numbness flooded his limbs. His feet slipped. He crashed backward, rigid as a board.

*Is this... dying of overwork?* he’d mused absurdly in that final second.

Darkness swallowed him.

Now, consciousness seeped back. Antiseptic smell... *Hospital.*

Bai Su grimaced inwardly. *Guess I’m too stubborn to die...*

A nearly thirty-year-old man, alone. No wife. No kids. True friends counted on one hand. Even if he’d died today, who’d truly mourn?

People always move forward.

No past happiness—no grief—could cage a heart yearning for tomorrow.

Undying love and loyalty? Fairy tales. Newsreel fantasies. In this rushing age, such ancient bonds had scattered like childhood photos in history’s wind.

Forgotten.

*Enough,* Bai Su reined in his spiraling thoughts. *Whoever brought me here deserves thanks.*

But the invisible chains held firm, locking every muscle fiber.

*Hell’s bells.*

Paralysis? A vegetable? Since when did booze do *that*?

Then—voices sharpened through the fog:

"Uncle Zhang! Why won’t my sister wake up?! Are you sure she’s alright?"

"Calm down. Su Su just collapsed from hypoglycemia after intense exercise. She’s stable now—no major concerns. But Xiao Su," the man’s tone turned stern, "you *knew* she had low blood sugar. Why didn’t you remind her to be careful? Today was lucky. What if she’d fainted on a busy street? You’re being a terribly irresponsible brother."

"...Y-yes. It’s my fault. I’ll do better." The young man’s voice dripped with guilt.

"I hope you mean that." Uncle Zhang sighed. "I know losing your parents hit you hard. But you can’t drown in grief. Remember Su Su—she’s just a little girl. You need to shoulder this. For her sake, if not your own."

*Xiao Su? Su Su? Uncle Zhang?*

Bai Su’s blood ran cold.

His childhood nickname *was* Xiao Su. His father *had* a sworn brother named Zhang—a man who’d held him up during his darkest days after the accident.

But who was *Su Su*?

Had he been reborn right after his parents’ deaths? Trapped in the body of a sister who never existed in his past life?

Absurdity choked him. Panic clawed at his throat.

*Just drunken hallucinations,* he told himself desperately. But the voices rang too true—

"I understand, Uncle," the other "Bai Su" replied, weary and hollow. "Thank you."

Bai Su’s heart iced over. *That’s... my voice. My teenage voice.*

A tidal wave of disorientation crashed over him, dragging him toward a savage, unknown future. He could only drift—forward, forward, forward—mind blank.

"Ah, child..." Uncle Zhang’s sigh softened. "I won’t push. You must choose your own path."

Footsteps faded. Uncle Zhang was gone.

Bai Su’s throat tightened.

*So someone still loves me. In any world.*

He’d been fresh out of high school when the call came—parents gone in a crash. He’d raced home to white funeral banners and their portraits on the altar, their grief-stricken eyes watching him.

The sky had fallen.

His father’s booming laugh. His mother’s mischievous glint. Reduced to ashes scattered on a hilltop.

Three months of numb drifting followed. Then came the self-destruction: drinking, smoking, brawling—anything to drown the pain.

Old friends reached out. He met them with snarls and slammed doors.

A hedgehog curled tight, spines wounding everyone who tried to help.

Bai Su’s thoughts tangled.

Then—a feather-light touch brushed his cheek. A small hand withdrew instantly.

The contact shattered something.

Memories surged—not his own. A fifteen-year-old girl’s life spilled into his thirty-year-old mind. Ripples churned, then stilled.

In the darkness, a little girl stood before him.

Waist-length hair spilled over her shoulders. Wine-red eyes held gentle warmth. Her body glowed like a deity from myth.

"Su... Su Su?" Bai Su whispered.

"Mhm." She smiled. "Brother."

Bai Su smiled back. "Won’t you be sad leaving like this?"

"Not at all." She shook her head. "I know I’m just dead weight to you. But *you*—I believe you can pull *him* back from the edge. I’m a ghost this world never allowed. Nothing left to cling to."

Bai Su studied her, sighing softly—but his smile stayed. "I envy that fool out there. To have a sister like you..."

"Maybe..." Her voice grew tender. "But without that fool, I wouldn’t exist either. So, Brother—I’m leaving him to you. Help that idiot find his light again."

"I will." Bai Su nodded slowly. "Even without your asking... I won’t let another me repeat my mistakes."

"Promise?"

"Promise."

Time and space dissolved as the two struck their impossible pact.

Bai Su watched Su Su—her wish granted, her duty done.

He knew what came next.

Su Su lifted her face. Starlight shattered from her form, bleeding into the dark. It became a river of stars—fifteen years of Bai Susu’s memories, now pure light flooding Bai Su’s soul.

They merged.

The old "Bai Su" and "Bai Susu" vanished. Something new—Bai Susu—was born.

As the last starlight shaping Su Su’s outline flickered out, she hesitated. Turning to Bai Su with a child’s shyness, she asked: "Brother... can I hug you?"

Bai Su paused. Then he smiled, slow and warm. "Of course."

Beneath the swirling galaxy, two figures drew close. They nestled together like twin stars bound forever.

Long moments passed. Bai Su loosened his arms. The girl in his embrace had dissolved into clear starlight, vanished into the sky.

Only her whisper remained: *"Goodbye, Brother."*

*Goodbye. Goodbye. We’ll never meet again.*

Bai Su gazed at the star-strewn sky. Suddenly, he laughed—a bright, raw sound—and shouted: "GOODBYE, SU SU!"

The cry shook the heavens, echoing through the world.

But the little girl could no longer hear.

———————

Bai Su stared at his sister in the hospital bed.

He hadn’t truly looked at her in so long. The soft baby fat on her cheeks had melted away, leaving sharp angles. Her chin jutted pointedly. Her smile was gone, replaced by a slight furrow between her brows.

He reached out, wanting to smooth that worry line away. His fingers hovered over her cheek—then jerked back.

*He didn’t deserve to touch her.*

After their parents died, he’d locked himself in his room. A child’s escape. He’d forgotten *her*.

Su Su—a little girl—had shouldered their parents’ aftermath alone. Never complaining. Even urging *him* to be strong.

And him?

He’d hidden in his shell, spines out, hurting everyone who cared.

Now she lay broken. Did he even have the right to face her?

Bai Su crumpled beside her bed, shoulders shaking with silent sobs.

"Su Su... I’m sorry. It’s all my fault. Please wake up. I’ll listen—I’ll get better! I’ll never let you carry this alone again. *Never.* Just wake up, please..."

A small, soft hand settled on his head. Gentle fingers threaded through his hair.

A hoarse, childish voice whispered in his ear: "Brother... don’t cry. Su Su heard you."

Bai Su jerked upright. His sister’s eyes were open, gazing at him. Tears streaked his face as he laughed through them. "Su Su! You’re awake! Thank god!"

He lunged for the call button. "Doctor! My sister’s awake!"

Before the nurse could reply, he was back at Su Su’s side, frantic. "Su Su, how do you feel? Any pain anywhere?"

"If you've got anything to say, tell me quickly, brother."

Su Su looked at Bai Su, whose face brimmed with anxiety and surprise. She suddenly smiled and replied, "I'm not feeling unwell, brother. It's just low blood sugar."

She suddenly felt that having a brother like him might not be so bad.

Sunlight streamed in from the window, casting a golden glow on their faces. Everything felt so warm.

At this moment, the story of the silly brother and the foolish sister began.