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墨書 Inktalez
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 while occasionally tracing it with his fingers.
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 Jiang Ling, the intern nurse assigned to take care of this patient."
Jiang Ling? Song Buxian had never heard that name before, but a glance at the name tag on his coat confirmed he was indeed an intern nurse. The surname was the same as Aunt Jiang's, and there was something vaguely familiar about his face.
After a brief exchange of basic information, Jiang Ling left the room. As he was closing the door, he gently reminded, "It will get colder tonight; remember to pull the curtains for him. I’ll take care of things here, so you can go back and rest."
After agreeing, Song Buxian pulled the curtains shut. Outside, it was dark, with only a few lights still on in some rooms. He noticed many hurried figures moving about, carrying small bags or items needed for their hospital stay. Song Buxian disliked hospitals; they felt overwhelmingly oppressive to him. Although laughter occasionally broke through the gloom, most people seemed to wear forced smiles meant to comfort those in beds, only to revert to their true emotions once they left.
He vividly recalled the first time Bunan had thrown a tantrum after waking up from his injury. The child had been able to get out of bed and walk slowly around with permission from the doctors, as his back wound had healed well. But during his first outing in the hallway, Song Buxian had seen his younger brother—who just days before had cheerfully talked about collecting leaves outside—crying in their mother's arms and begging to go home. When asked what was wrong, Bunan simply shook his head, looking utterly pitiful.
Later, Aunt Jiang explained, "The old man in the next room passed away yesterday. Bunan was playing with his grandson at that time and witnessed everything; it scared him."
This place was filled with uncertainty regarding life and death, absorbing various degrees of negative emotions that he found unbearable.
Turning back to look at Bunan, who was drooling due to his sleeping position and leaving a shiny patch on his pillowcase, Song Buxian pulled up the curtains and covered him with a blanket from the adjacent bed just as his phone rang. The sound startled Bunan awake momentarily but thankfully did not fully rouse him; he merely turned over.
Voices calling his name echoed from afar but remained indistinct. Unable to stop himself from running toward them in his dream state, Bunan shouted out in frustration, "What are you all talking about? Just say it clearly! And whoever keeps calling my name—why don't you come out and face me?!"
As soon as he finished speaking, all sounds abruptly ceased. A chilling cold enveloped him; not only did ice form thicker on the chains binding him, but even the dark ground beneath seemed frozen over. This cold felt more unbearable than pain itself; as he struggled against the chains with all his might, they only tightened further around his waist. The constriction caused excruciating pain in his abdomen as if all his insides were frozen and crushed together, leaving him powerless and collapsing onto the ground.
Before he could even cry out in pain upon hitting the ground, he caught sight of countless white figures approaching him from all directions. They varied in size and shape but swayed toward him ominously while whispers accompanied their advance. The voice calling his name faded away completely; feeling increasingly panicked, Bunan attempted to rise but found himself unable.
The white figures finally loomed over him menacingly. Lying still on the ground with one hand clutching his aching abdomen and the other pressed against one ear as if blocking out those sounds worked somewhat—the rustling noise indeed diminished significantly.
"It's just a dream," he reassured himself. "Just an unprecedented dream. Once I wake up from this nightmare, I won’t hear those voices or be engulfed by this darkness again."
Curled up tightly like a shrimp on the floor, he suddenly recognized a familiar voice—it was Xin Yi's. However, it sounded faint as if coming from far away; Xin Yi wasn't continuously calling out his name but occasionally mentioned it during conversation. Yet hearing that voice gave Song Bunan the courage to open his eyes.
As he blinked awake, those white figures began to dissipate slowly along with the chains that vanished after flickering blue lights appeared and disappeared. Feeling liberated without any pain lingering in his body, he quickly stood up in the darkness and focused on locating Xin Yi's voice.
"Bunan... this is very dangerous..." The intermittent voice soon became clearer; it was right behind him! Determined not to think about what might be there behind him anymore, Song Bunan ran towards it again with conviction that when he opened his eyes next time, Xin Yi would be right beside him.
At the end of this path lay no light—only a wooden sign that suddenly illuminated itself reading "Dragon Garden." Confused that this wasn’t the signpost outside of the small grove he had seen earlier, Song Bunan couldn’t help but reach out to touch it. The wood felt warm under his fingers and smooth as if coated to prevent cracking or weathering. Suddenly overwhelmed by a powerful pull forward, he stumbled just as he felt himself falling into nothingness.
The sensation of weightlessness jolted him awake; blinking against the dim light of a night lamp in the hospital room revealed Xin Yi sitting beside him on a cot while their older brother slept nearby.
"Did you have a nightmare?" Xin Yi asked softly after noticing Song Bunan’s sudden movement caused by waking up too abruptly. He crouched down beside him and placed a hand on his forehead gently.
Still feeling adrenaline coursing through him from fear moments ago, Song Bunan shook his head dismissively before Xin Yi covered his eyes playfully and whispered close to him: "It's still early; why don’t you try sleeping a bit more?"
The roughness of Xin Yi's hand carried a hint of tobacco scent yet felt warm against Song Bunan’s eyelids like waves calming an anxious sea within him. He quickly relaxed under its soothing touch. Grabbing Xin Yi's hand away from his face with genuine gratitude shining through his smile, he said earnestly: "I'm not sleepy anymore! Besides... my back doesn’t hurt much now; I think I’ll take a stroll."
However, Xin Yi promptly rejected that idea by handing him a cup of water with a straw: "Those wounds on your back are quite troublesome; the doctor advised you not to move around too much just 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 neck 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 a long time and finally heard you talking to Brother. I followed the sound and woke up... Hmm? brother Xinyi, it's 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 next to him indicated that he had been working not long ago. Although he had grown accustomed to being hospitalized, it was still the first time someone stayed up all night to take care of him. Song Bunan always thought his brother was fierce and hard to talk to, but this situation made him feel a bit embarrassed.
Then Xin Yi ruffled his hair and smiled gently, looking tired himself. "I was just about to leave. Your brother said he would stay up tonight, and tomorrow we'll see if you can be discharged. Also..." Xin Yi suddenly lowered his voice, leaning closer to whisper in his ear, "Your brother regrets this whole situation and is very sorry. He promises it won't happen again."
Being so close caused Xin Yi's warm breath to brush against his face, the heat easily finding its way into his ears. Song Bunan felt himself go from warm to boiling; his ears, face, neck, and even his chest felt aflame. 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 outside as he turned his head to focus on Xin Yi putting on his jacket and saying goodbye. He couldn't pull his gaze away until the door of the hospital room closed behind him. His mind was filled with the strange and unfamiliar feelings from just now, like fireworks bursting in celebration—he felt shy yet delighted and a bit excited all at once, which made him unable to stop smiling.
Lying on the bed for a long time in contemplation, Song Bunan didn't realize that he was experiencing a budding affection for Xin Yi. He seriously categorized this initial feeling as "this brother takes care of me too much." Happy, he picked up his phone to check messages; the first one on WeChat was from Xiao Mei.
The time was exactly twelve o'clock, with just one message: "See you at Dragon Garden the night after tomorrow."
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