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Upon returning to the hospital room, Song Buxian expected to find his younger brother asleep, but he was surprised to see someone else in the room. A young man in a white coat stood by the bedside, bending over to examine Bunan's back, occasionally tracing it with his fingers while wearing white gloves.
This man did not look much like a doctor; his shoulder-length hair was partially tied back, and he wore short boots and motorcycle pants that clashed with the white coat. Just as Song Buxian was about to step closer to the bed, the man straightened up and turned to him. "Hello, I’m the intern nurse Jiang Ling, assigned to take care of this patient."
Jiang Ling? Song Buxian had never heard that name before, but upon closer inspection of the name tag on his coat, he confirmed that he was indeed an intern nurse. The surname matched Aunt Jiang's, and there was something vaguely familiar about his face.
After a brief inquiry about the basic situation, Jiang Ling left the room. Just before closing the door, he softly said, "It’s going to get colder tonight; remember to pull the curtains for him. I’ll be here to take care of things, so you can go home and rest."
Once Jiang Ling closed the door, Song Buxian went to draw the curtains. Outside was dark, with only a few lights still on in the hospital rooms. Many hurried figures passed by in the corridor, carrying small bags or items needed for their hospital stays. Song Buxian disliked hospitals; they felt too oppressive to him. Although laughter could be heard occasionally, most people seemed to be forcing smiles for the sake of those in beds, only to revert to their true emotions once they stepped outside.
He vividly remembered the first time Song Bunan threw a tantrum after waking up from his injury. The child had been able to get out of bed and walk slowly by himself; his back wound was healing well enough that the doctors allowed him to stroll in the hallway. But during that first outing, when Song Buxian came to deliver food, he found his younger brother—who had been happily talking about picking up leaves outside—crying in their mother’s arms and begging to go home. When asked what was wrong, the child simply shook his head, looking utterly pitiful.
Later, Aunt Jiang explained: "The old man in the next room passed away yesterday. Bunan witnessed it while playing with his grandson and was terrified."
This place was filled with uncertainty about life and death, absorbing various degrees of negative emotions that he hated most.
Looking back at Song Bunan, who was drooling due to his sleeping position and leaving a shiny patch on his pillowcase, he pulled down the curtains and covered him with a blanket from the adjacent bed just as his phone rang. The sound startled the person on the bed but thankfully did not wake him; he merely turned over.
A voice calling his name grew louder as it approached, but he still could not see who it was. Song Bunan didn’t care whether he could converse or ask questions in this dream; he simply shouted while running, "What are you all talking about? Speak clearly! And whoever keeps calling my name—dare you come out and face me?!"
As soon as he finished speaking, all sounds around him abruptly ceased. An even more chilling cold enveloped him; not only did ice begin to thicken on the chains binding him, but even the dark ground beneath seemed frozen over. This cold felt more unbearable than pain itself; when he tried to pull at the chains binding his waist with all his strength, they only tightened further. The constriction around his abdomen caused excruciating pain as if all his insides were frozen and crushed together, making him collapse onto the ground.
His head hit the floor before he could even cry out in pain. In his line of sight appeared countless white shadows. They varied in size and shape but all swayed towards him while those rustling sounds returned again—this time accompanying the white figures. The voice calling his name never returned; feeling a bit panicked now, Song Bunan tried to get up but found himself unable.
The white shadows finally swayed close enough that they seemed to loom over him. Lying motionless on the ground with one hand clutching his aching abdomen and using the other hand to cover one ear as if blocking out those sounds might help him ignore them—perhaps this method worked because those rustling noises indeed quieted down significantly.
"This is just a dream," Song Bunan reassured himself. "Just an unprecedented dream; once I wake up from it, I won’t hear these sounds anymore or be surrounded by such darkness that I can’t see my way."
Curled up almost like a shrimp on the floor, he suddenly heard a very familiar voice—it was Xin Yi. But his voice was faint as if coming from far away; he didn’t continuously call out Song Bunan’s name but spoke intermittently instead. Yet because Song Bunan recognized it as Xin Yi’s voice, he found courage enough to open his eyes.
As he opened them, those white shadows began to dissipate slowly along with the iron chains; when blue light flickered on and off again, they vanished completely. Regaining freedom without feeling any pain at all, he quickly stood up in the darkness and listened carefully for Xin Yi's voice.
" Bunan... this is very dangerous..." The fragmented words were soon pinpointed right behind him! With determination set on finding Xin Yi without concern for what might lie behind him, Song Bunan ran toward that direction again. He believed that when he opened his eyes next time, Xin Yi would be standing right beside him.
At the end of this path lay no light—only a wooden sign that suddenly lit up with “Dragon Garden” written on it. Confused as this wasn’t a marker outside of a small grove, Song Bunan couldn’t help but reach out for it; it felt warm and smooth under his touch as if coated to prevent cracking or weathering. Then an overwhelming force pulled him forward just as he was about to stumble and fall flat on his face.
The sensation of weightlessness jolted him awake; upon opening his eyes in a dimly lit hospital room with only a small nightlight glowing beside him, he saw Xin Yi sitting nearby engrossed in his phone while their older brother slept soundly.
"Did you have a nightmare?" Perhaps startled by how loudly he woke up, Xin Yi noticed him and came over squatting down beside him gently placing a hand on his forehead while asking softly. With his heart still racing from fear, Song Bunan shook his head indicating nothing was wrong; before he could speak further though Xin Yi covered his eyes playfully whispering into his ear: "It's still early; why don’t you sleep a little longer?"
The hand covering his eyes felt slightly rough with traces of tobacco scent wafting through it; yet that warm touch surged through him like ocean waves calming down every tense muscle filled with anxiety and fear. Grabbing Xin Yi’s hand away from his face with genuine gratitude shining through his smile, Song Bunan said: "I’m not sleepy anymore! Besides my back doesn’t hurt much now—I think I’ll go for a stroll."
His suggestion met with refusal as Xin Yi handed him a cup of water with a straw: "Those wounds on your back are quite troublesome; doctors advise you not to move around too much yet. Drink some water first."
The water was warm, sweetened with honey, and had a smooth texture. Song Bunan propped his chin on his hand, tilting his head as he chatted with Xin Yi. "I had a really long dream. It was so dark that I couldn't see the end. I ran for what felt like forever until I heard you talking to my brother. I followed the sound and woke up... Hmm? Xin Yi, it's really late. Aren't you going to rest?"
He grabbed his phone and glanced at the screen, which brightly displayed 12:37. His brother was already fast asleep on the bed beside him, and the computer by his side indicated that he had been working not long ago. Although he was used to being hospitalized, having his brother keep vigil over him was a first in his life. Song Bunan always thought of his brother as stern and hard to talk to, but this situation made him feel a bit awkward.
Then Xin Yi ruffled his hair and smiled gently, clearly showing signs of fatigue. "I was just about to leave. Your brother said he would keep watch tonight and would decide tomorrow whether you can be discharged. Also..." Xin Yi suddenly lowered his voice, leaning closer to whisper in his ear, "Your brother regrets this situation very much and is really sorry. He promises it won't happen again."
Being so close caused Xin Yi's warm breath to brush against his face, and the heat easily slipped into his ear. Song Bunan felt himself go from warm to boiling; his ears, cheeks, neck, and even his back felt like they were on fire. He closed his eyes and covered his face with his hands, internally exclaiming in embarrassment. Fortunately, Xin Yi only leaned in to say that before standing up straight to grab a jacket from the foot of the bed.
Song Bunan swallowed several times to calm himself down, trying to appear less nervous on the surface as he turned to watch Xin Yi put on his jacket and say goodbye. He couldn't pull his gaze away until the door to the hospital room clicked shut. His mind was filled with the strange and unfamiliar sensations from earlier, like fireworks bursting in the sky—an odd mix of shyness, delight, and excitement that made him unable to stop smiling.
Lying on the bed, he savored the moment for a long time without realizing that he was experiencing budding feelings for the first time. He seriously categorized this emotion under "this brother cares too much for me." Happy, he picked up his phone to check messages, and the first one on WeChat was from Xiao Mei.
The time was exactly midnight, and it contained just one sentence: "See you at Dragon Garden the night after tomorrow."
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