Zhen Xue woke in his bed with a cold sweat, moonlight reflecting overhead. The distant words and images from the past clawed at him as though trying to swallow him whole. For some time now, his dreams were becoming much worst. His soul seemed to reject inhabiting a body that wasn’t his own, having fallen into the world of his fantasy book as a character he designed after himself. Like a thread of unraveling yarn, sleep would pull him under, making it difficult for him to stay awake during the day. 

It was hard to believe he would be twenty soon, the same age he lost his biological family in the modern world, yet no closer to their murderer then before. Even though he had put aside his revenge to adjust to his new life as crown prince, he still frequently dreamt of that night. As though spurred on by this thought, his eyes grew heavy, dragging him back into that deep, slumbering nightmare.

Flames crackled into the night breeze as they appeared before his eyes, blazing and bright. He’d arrived too late yet again, always hoping he could be a few seconds faster, as though that would make a difference and he could save them. After repeatedly going through the same event, he could now recall the amount of steps he took to get home—a small sliver of knowledge that he couldn’t forget, only further weighing on his conscious.

His older brother, Zhen Zhi, was exactly where Zhen Xue last saw him. No matter how many times he faced him, Zhen Xue still fell to his knees in despair, feeling like that should be him there instead. 

Tears didn’t come out as easily as they did the first hundred times. He doesn’t start crying until he heard his older brother panting weakly, his breath growing shorter by the moment.

Zhen Zhi laid taunt on the ground, blood pooling around him, part of his face disfigured from the fire that burned down their home. “Little brother…” he croaked out, coughing up blood and regaining some awareness. “I told you to run. Why did you come back to this terrible scene?”

Zhen Xue couldn’t say anything at first, letting Zhen Zhi’s words hang in the air while he thinks about all the ways he failed them. He had this conversation countless times, but like a bad habit he couldn’t break, he willingly stepped into the same trap. 

“I failed you,” he whispered brokenly, reaching out to clutch the front of Zhen Zhi’s clothes as though by sheer willpower he could keep him alive. “No, that doesn’t even matter anymore…” he said, more to himself. Apologizes wouldn’t bring them back. He said enough of them to know.

Why? Why did this happen?! The day began like any other in the Zhen household, but when he returned home from class, a sudden, unexpected tragedy occurred, shattering the normalcy. Even now, he could feel nothing but the wind sweeping across his tear-stained face and the hollowness now placed in his chest where warmth used to dwell.

Zhen Tianshi, their younger sister by a year apart, laid lifeless nearby, discarded beneath a mountain of ruin. What about the braised pork she promised to make when he passed his exams? A celebratory dinner for the promises of the future they would make together. Such thoughts were pointless now, but he still choked up while looking at the sole of her shoes. 

Waves of grief wash over him like a tidal wave, knowing he’ll face a reality without her. Her stiff body was all that remained, yet he repeated the words like before, a broken mantra. “Little sister… I got accepted into college today,” he whispered at her corpse. “Won’t you get up and celebrate with us?”

Zhen Zhi squeezed his hand, trying to bring him comfort. “She would be proud of you,” he said, holding his gaze. “I’m proud of you,” he continued, forcing himself to smile for his sake, knowing that words wouldn’t stop his approaching death. 

Yet, his older brother still tried to wear a mask for him despite bleeding out and half lifeless. That knowledge used to make him weep even more, but this time, Zhen Xue held his gaze with half broken appreciation. 

“You will survive this.” Zhen Zhi coughed. “Your life is just beginning to blossom.”

“While yours is ending before my eyes.” Zhen Xue shook his head at the ground, smiling brokenly at nothing. “What about our plans to see the Northern mountains? What about the field of flowers Tianshi longed to care for? When I made enough money for the three of us, we promised to live without regrets. We were so close to having that future, but my efforts were too late.” He was too late. His hands tightened at his sides, regret twisting in his stomach like a knife.

Zhen Zhi sighed heavily, silence spreading between them as he stares at what was once their younger sister. “Perhaps Tianshi is already in that field of flowers, caring for them,” he suggested. “Perhaps the three of us will reunite on the Northern mountains one day.” His dark gaze looked a bit more hopeful as they returned to Zhen Xue. “Live well so that we can hear your stories. Though we can’t travel with you anymore, that doesn’t mean we can’t be together again someday.”

Before his eyes could glaze over, Zhen Xue pushed through his sadness, swearing with reverence like he does every time, though the flood of hope he once had by saying them were long forgotten. “I promise,” he whispered numbly. 

He took a shaky breath, watching Zhen Zhi’s breath finally leave him. No longer did he have the energy to repeat the rest of the words he once said, how he hoped they would wait for him on the Northern mountains. How they’ll share Tianshi braised pork, sitting around together, reminiscing about the good old days, and then he’d share his stories with them as promised. Over time, he realized they wouldn’t wait around. 

“You should’ve died too,” Zhen Zhi hissed into his ear—a hallucination he knew, but yet when spoken from his voice, Zhen Xue could only believe those words, knowing them to be true.

Usually, at this point in the dream, he’d wake up in a cold sweat, but this time, the nightmare didn’t end. The figure in white made an appearance. His long silver hair bellowed around his white clothes, leaving one with a distinct impression. This man was not human, not anymore. Though Zhen Xue could not make out his face in the dark, having never seen more then his cocky smile, he recognized him immediately. 

The ghost approached him with haste, raising his ebony blade over Zhen Xue as though to finish what he started. Zhen Xue didn’t even so much as flinch, prepared to accept this might be his end. However, instead of meeting a quick death, the ghost began to speak. “You should probably wake up,” he said with thoughtful tone. “Can’t have you losing your mind when we have so much to do.”

With a simple flick upon his forehead, he woke up inside his room, heart nearly bursting from his chest, a sign he was still very much alive despite nearly being cut down with a sword.

He might have reunited with both Tianshi and Zhi had he died.

Whatever. He turned onto his side, irritable at the silver-haired ghost like this was his fault again. Zhen Xue was certain the ghost spared him for his benefit, but there was too much to do tomorrow to worry about that. 

An important event was about to take place, one he’d been expecting since arriving in this world fifteen years ago. It was about time he got to release some long overdue stress.