I followed like a puppet, watching the emergency room doors close before me, the red light glowing.
It wasn't until then that my forced composure completely crumbled. I collapsed onto a cold corridor bench, my body trembling like a leaf in the wind, and tears finally gushed out.
It turned out that wasn't composure; it was the numbness after my soul had been instantly drained.
Fortunately, he was discovered in time, and he survived… When he woke up, his eyes stared blankly at the ceiling, like a body from which the soul had been extracted. No matter what I said, he was unresponsive.
The doctor said this was a common state for severely depressed patients after a failed suicide attempt. I stayed by his side in the hospital for three days and three nights, holding his cold hand, repeating over and over:
"Brother, I'm here, Yingying is here."
He remained unresponsive.
Until the day he was discharged, he sat on the hospital bed, looking at the grey sky outside the window, then suddenly turned his head and gave me a long-lost, weak smile. "Yingying," he said, his voice hoarse like an old bellows, "I want to live properly now."
At that moment, I almost cried tears of joy. I thought he had finally overcome that hurdle.
He started to "get better."
He proactively went out, looked for a job, contacted old friends, and even started dating girls.
He no longer drank heavily, took his medication on time, and even had smiles on his face.
He came to see me more often, taking me out to eat delicious food, telling me about the new girl he met, and the interesting things at his work. He would even joke with me, ruffling my hair like when we were kids.
Everything seemed to be moving in a good direction. My taut nerves slowly relaxed, and the heavy stone that had been suffocating me in my heart seemed to lighten a bit. I looked at the renewed sparkle in his eyes, thinking he had truly emerged from his darkness.
I was such a complete fool!
How could I forget that he was such a proud and skilled dissembler?
How could he let me see his true vulnerability and despair? His face was smiling, but the fatigue in the corners of his eyes, like a spiderweb, grew thicker and thicker, deeply etched into his wrinkles.
When he spoke to me, his gaze would occasionally drift into the distance, carrying an unspeakable emptiness and detachment. He ate very little, becoming so thin that his cheekbones became more prominent.
Yet, I was blinded by those superficial "improvements," and I actually let down my guard!
I hate myself!
I hate my stupidity!
I hate my blind optimism!
If I had been a little more careful, if I had always remembered the abyss that might be hidden behind his smile, would it not... would it not have come to this?
June 27th, an ordinary summer afternoon. The sun scorched the earth, and cicadas shrieked themselves hoarse in the trees.
I called him, but his phone was off. I sent a WeChat message, but he didn't reply. A strong sense of unease instantly gripped me.
I called my parents, and their indifferent responses were like a splash of cold water:
"Don't know, haven't been in touch." "He's a grown man, what could possibly happen?" I called all his friends, but no one knew his whereabouts.
Panic, like a vine, wrapped around my heart, tightening its grip.
I rushed out of school like a madwoman, hailing a taxi straight to his rented room.
The key slid into the lock, turned. The door opened. The room was dimly lit, with thick curtains drawn.
A faint, familiar scent, his scent, permeated the air.
My heart pounded like a drum as I walked, step by step, towards the bedroom.
The door was ajar.
I pushed it open.
He lay on the bed, covered by a thin blanket, curled up like a child lacking security. His posture was so familiar, just like that stormy night when I was seven, when he held me as I fell asleep.
Only this time, his arms were empty.
I walked to the bedside and softly called him: "Brother?"
No response.
With trembling hands, I lifted a corner of the blanket.
His face was revealed, pale, serene, with even a faint, almost imperceptible, smile of relief on his lips. He looked as if he were asleep.
Only, his body was cold and stiff, and he no longer breathed.
On the bedside table, there was an empty medicine bottle, and next to it, half a glass of water that had long gone cold.
And a piece of paper, held down by a silver guitar pick.
I recognized that pick.
It was a gift I had given him; he used it the first time he taught me to play guitar.
Back then, my hands were clumsy, and I always strummed the wrong strings. He held my hand, his fingertips calloused, patiently adjusting my posture.
Sunlight streamed through the window onto his focused profile, and the air carried the fresh scent of an acoustic guitar and the faint smell of soap on him. Those were our few, warm-toned memories.
I picked up the paper with trembling hands. It was his handwriting, elegant yet with a subtle, almost imperceptible weakness.
"Yingying:
By the time you read this letter, Brother will already be gone.
Don't cry, and don't be afraid. Brother is just too tired and wants to have a good sleep.
This world is vast and beautiful, with cherry blossoms, oceans, and so many landscapes you haven't seen.
Unfortunately, Brother's strength is only enough to accompany you this far.
I'm sorry I couldn't keep my promise to watch you grow up, to see you in your wedding dress.
Yingying, Brother doesn't hate anyone.
I don't hate Mom and Dad; they were just... trapped in their own unhappy cages. Nor do I hate this world; it gave me life, allowed me to meet you, Grandpa, Grandma, Maternal Grandpa, and Maternal Grandma... that's already good enough.
Please visit Grandpa and Grandma more for me. Grandpa likes to have a few drinks, but don't let him drink too much. Grandma has a bad stomach, remember to remind her to drink the stomach-nourishing tea I bought for her on time. The grapes in Maternal Grandpa and Maternal Grandma's yard should be ripe, right? Taste them for me and see if they're sweet.
Yingying, Brother loves you.
Much, much more than I love this world. This love is the cleanest, most precious thing in my short life. It makes me feel that my journey to this world was worthwhile.
Don't be sad for me for too long. Carry Brother's heart, and live well. Go see the cherry blossoms, go see the ocean, go love, go laugh, go experience all the good and bad of this world. Live passionately for me.
If there truly is a next life... don't be born as siblings again, let me be your husband, okay?
Finally, I wish my Yingying boundless blessings and peace every year.
Brother's last words"
Tears streamed out, blurring the handwriting.
I clutched that thin piece of paper tightly, as if holding onto his last lingering warmth.
Cold regret, like a venomous snake, gnawed at my heart.
The details I had overlooked, his forced smiles, the deep-seated fatigue in his eyes... like countless blunt knives, repeatedly slicing at my nerves.
Why didn't I notice sooner? Why didn't I hold onto him more tightly each time he plunged into the abyss?
I hate! I hate my parents' coldness and selfishness, I hate how their arguments corroded my brother's childhood and youth like poison! I hate that they gave him life but were stingy with even a shred of warmth!
I hate this world, why did it push such a gentle person to such an end! I hate those who lightly say, "just cheer up," they simply don't understand the despair of darkness devouring a soul!
But most of all, I hate myself.
I hate my stupidity, I hate my negligence, I hate that I was blinded by his carefully disguised "recovery"! I hate why I didn't stay by his side constantly after that New Year's Eve! I hate why, when he finally told me, "I'm relieved," I didn't hear the farewell in that calm tone!
I collapsed by the bed, burying my face in his cold arm, where there was no longer any familiar warmth or heartbeat. The faint scent of soap lingered in the air, mixed with disinfectant and the smell of death.
I cried heartbrokenly, emitting animalistic whimpers from my throat, as if I wanted to vomit out my internal organs. A huge wave of sorrow and regret engulfed me like a tsunami, and a sense of suffocation choked my throat.
"Brother... Brother, come back... come back! I was wrong... I won't ever let my guard down again... I won't believe your lies again... Open your eyes and look at me... Look at Yingying!"
I shook his cold body, my fingernails digging deep into my palms, leaving crescent-shaped blood marks.
"You said you'd watch me grow up... You said you'd take me to the south... You broke your promise! You're a liar! A big liar!"
But no matter how much I cried, how much I shook him, he would never wake up again, never look at me with those gentle eyes again, never ruffle my hair and call me "silly girl" again.
He slept forever, carrying all his exhaustion and wounds, escaping this world that suffocated him.
When Grandpa and Grandma arrived after hearing the news, Grandma fainted on the spot.
Grandpa, with his hunched back, shed muddy old tears, his withered hands repeatedly stroking Brother's cold cheek, mumbling:
"Fusheng... My Fusheng... Grandpa's wine... we haven't finished drinking it yet..."
Grandpa, who always loved to sip a little wine and secretly slip us pocket money, seemed to age ten years in an instant.
On the day of the funeral, the sky was so gloomy it seemed about to collapse. My parents' faces bore just the right amount of sorrow and fatigue, like they were acting in a clumsy play.
I looked at Brother's black-and-white photo on the tombstone, with his gentle smile, my heart desolate. The pastor read the eulogy, his voice distant and blurry.
My gaze fell on a newly planted wild ginger plant next to the tombstone, its tender green leaves trembling slightly in the wind. Grandma had insisted on planting it; she said wild ginger was fragrant and could soothe the soul.
Rest his soul? My brother’s soul had long been crushed by the world’s indifference and pain. Could it truly rest in peace?
During the burial, I seized an opportune moment and gently placed the faded guitar pick next to his urn. It was our last, warm connection.
My fingertips touched the cold urn, and an indescribable chill instantly shot through my entire body. My heart felt as if an invisible hand had fiercely clutched it, almost stopping its beat.
The world before my eyes began to spin and distort. All sounds in my ears vanished, leaving only a sharp ringing.
A violent, icy force, laden with endless sorrow and a desire for destruction, erupted within me like a dormant volcano!
Buzz—!!!
An invisible shockwave violently spread out from me as its center!
The sky instantly turned a bizarre blood-red! A massive, blood-red moon, oozing viscous blood-light, hung above the firmament!
The ground beneath my feet vibrated violently, the hard concrete cracking inch by inch like a fragile eggshell!
Countless thick, grotesque bone spikes, entwined with dark red blood patterns, pierced out from the cracks like fangs from hell, accompanied by an ear-splitting whoosh!
“Ah—!”
“What’s happening?!”
“An earthquake?! Run!”
The crowd attending the funeral instantly plunged into extreme panic and chaos! Screams, cries, and trampling sounds intertwined! People scattered in terror, fleeing to avoid the horrifying bone spikes that were growing wildly!
I stood still, unmoving.
My tears had long dried, and only a burning, hellfire-like blood-light remained in my eyes. Immense sorrow and rage surged and roared through my veins like molten lava.
Why?!
Why must gentle people be driven to death?! Why can callous people live with a clear conscience?! This world! This damned, unjust world!
“Ugh ah ah ah ah—!!!”
A shrill, inhuman shriek erupted from my throat!
Accompanying this shriek, a colossal, terrifying figure composed of stark white bones and dark red blood patterns abruptly tore through the void behind me and emerged!
It was a Skeletal Giant!
It stood three meters tall, its entire body covered in twisted, thick, pale bone spikes, each entwined with dark red blood patterns that writhed and flowed like living things!
Embedded in its chest was half a bottle of murky malt liquor, emitting a strong alcoholic scent! The viscous liquor dripped continuously from the bottle’s mouth like bloody tears, hitting the ground with a “hissing” corrosive sound and rising in pungent white smoke!
The Skeletal Giant had no head, but above the half-bottle of malt liquor in its chest, a fiercely burning, blood-red flame, condensed from pure hatred and sorrow, floated! In the center of the flame, a distorted, pained, silently roaring face was faintly visible—it was my brother’s face!
“Roar—!!!”
The Skeletal Giant let out a deafening roar, a sound that seemed to come from the deepest hell, filled with endless malice and a madness to destroy everything!
It abruptly raised its massive bone claw, bringing with it a tearing shriek through the air and a strong stench of blood, and slammed it fiercely towards the black sedan where our parents were sitting!
“No—!” My mother let out a shriek of extreme terror!
Boom—!!!
Like being struck by a ten-thousand-ton hammer! The sturdy car was instantly crushed into twisted scrap metal! Glass shards mixed with metal parts flew in all directions like a downpour! The people inside… didn’t even have time to scream before they were pulverized into a bloody mess by the terrifying force!
“Mur… Murderer!!!”
“Monster! Run!”
The crowd completely collapsed! Crying out for their parents, they scrambled and crawled to escape this area that had become like hell on earth!
The Skeletal Giant slowly turned around, the floating blood-red flame “watching” the chaotic fleeing crowd, the burning flames churning violently, as if silently laughing maniacally! It raised its bone claw again, about to slam it down onto the densest part of the crowd!
“Bro… Brother…”
I looked at the terrifying Skeletal Giant, at the distorted, pained face in the flames, my heart aching as if it were being torn apart! This wasn’t him! This wasn’t my brother! My brother was gentle, he was pure! He would never become such a bloodthirsty monster!
“Stop! Stop it!” I shrieked with all my might, trying to regain control of my body! But that violent will for destruction was like a towering flood, instantly submerging my consciousness! The Skeletal Giant’s bone claw, bringing with it the shadow of death, slammed down mercilessly!
Just at this critical moment!
Buzz—!!!
A soft, amber glow, carrying a faint scent of malt and tea, suddenly surged from within me! In the light, a translucent, slender young man’s apparition, wearing a faded white shirt, slowly emerged, standing in front of the Skeletal Giant!
It was my brother! It was the gentle, pure brother from my memories!
He looked back at me, his eyes clear, with a familiar helplessness and doting affection, as if saying, “Silly girl, causing trouble again.” Then, he raised his ethereal hand and gently pointed at the violent Skeletal Giant.
“Good boy… put the bottle down.” His voice was gentle, yet carried an undeniable power.
The Skeletal Giant’s descending bone claw suddenly froze in mid-air!
The burning blood-red flame in its chest fluctuated violently, and the distorted face in the flame struggled painfully, as if resisting something.
The dark red blood patterns entwined on the bone spikes flashed wildly, flickering on and off!
“Roar—!!!” The Skeletal Giant let out an even more furious roar, seemingly wanting to break free from the invisible restraint!
My brother’s apparition sighed softly, his figure becoming even more transparent.
He spread his arms, as if to embrace the violent monster.
The amber light became even softer and warmer, like the warm sun in winter, slowly enveloping the Skeletal Giant.
“Brother… I’ll help you smash this damn world!”
“Brother… I’ll help you smash this damn world.”
My brother from memory and the Skeletal Giant roared (or murmured) simultaneously, and the Skeletal Giant’s massive body trembled violently! The half-bottle of malt liquor in its chest suddenly erupted with dazzling blood-light!
Boom—!!!
A world-shattering bang! The Skeletal Giant’s massive body, along with the half-bottle of malt liquor, suddenly exploded!
It turned into bone fragments burning with blood-red flames and viscous liquor, flying everywhere! Like a bloody meteor shower!
The shockwave of the explosion violently threw me backward! I fell heavily to the ground! My vision went black, and I completely lost consciousness… When I woke up again, I was lying in a hospital bed. Outside the window, the sun was bright, birds chirped, and flowers bloomed, as if that bloody funeral had been just a nightmare.
But the deep weakness in my body, as if emptied, and the crystal-clear memory of my brother’s apparition’s last gentle and helpless gaze in my mind, all reminded me that everything had been real.
The doctor said I had been in a coma for three days, my body extremely weak, and my mind severely traumatized. They couldn’t explain what had happened to me, only calling it a rare stress reaction.
Only I knew it wasn’t a stress reaction.
It was my brother’s… last protection, and deepest curse, left to me.
I inherited that power, born of love, capable of tearing reality apart.
It was powerful, yet full of destructive potential; each use felt like burning away the last traces of my brother remaining in this world.
That amber healing light was the gentle fragment of my brother’s soul; that blood-red Skeletal Giant was the echo of him, twisted by pain and despair.
I hated this power. It constantly reminded me of the pain and helplessness of losing him.
Yet, I had to rely on this power. Because only it could prove that he had existed so truly, and loved me so intensely.
I changed my name. No longer the name my parents had casually given me. My name is Su Yingying.
Su, meaning to revive from death. My brother, in another way, “awakened” within me.
Heng, refers to Asarum. My grandmother said it could soothe souls. I hoped its fragrance could calm my brother’s wandering soul.
Ying, means to entwine endlessly. This love and pain born of him, this power and curse gained because of him, will intertwine with my life like vines, until death.
I was discharged from the hospital.
With simple luggage, I moved into the small room my brother had rented before his death. The room still held his faint scent of soap and the aroma of his acoustic guitar. I caressed the dust-covered guitar, my fingertips gliding over the strings, producing a muffled sound.
Outside the window, the sun was just right. I picked up the guitar pick, clutching it tightly in my palm, its cold touch reaching deep into my heart.
Brother, do you see?
This damn world hasn’t been smashed yet.
I will see it for you. With the eyes you gave me, with the power you gave me.
I will live on. With your love, your pain, your anger, your tenderness.
I will live passionately for you.
Until… the day we meet again.
