With the year nearing its end, Shen Yi sent Song Sijun a message.
“Are you free these next few days? Come meet me.”
Almost the instant Shen Yi sent it, a voice call came through. It was hard to tell how long he had been waiting by his phone.
She answered at once.
“Big sis.”
Hearing the movement on the other end, Shen Yi lowered her voice as well. “Mm, I’m here. I just wanted to ask if you’re free tomorrow…”
“Yes.” He answered so quickly it sounded as if he were afraid she might change her mind. “I am. Anytime is fine. Anywhere is fine.”
He spoke too hurriedly. Shen Yi heard his breathing hitch on the other end before he forcibly steadied it.
“Okay,” she said. “Then let’s meet tomorrow afternoon.”
The next day, Shen Yi arrived at their meeting place early.
The winter sun lay thinly over the streets, giving off barely any warmth even where it touched the skin.
People streamed past in all directions. Most were families out together after the New Year, their laughter mingling with the winter wind.
That kind of liveliness usually belonged to other people.
Song Sijun was curled up in one corner of a bench, his knees pressed together and his chin tucked into his collar, quiet and still.
Without making a sound, she slipped around behind him, pulled a bulging red envelope from her pocket, and pressed it into his hand.
“Happy New Year.”
She smiled brightly.
Startled by the sudden movement, Song Sijun instinctively lowered his head and looked at the red envelope that had appeared in his palm.
Then he suddenly looked up at her.
The faint haze in his eyes scattered all at once, leaving them astonishingly bright.
He smiled and said, “Happy New Year, Big sis.”
Looking at him like that, Shen Yi felt her heart soften.
In her memory, Song Sijun had always seemed like a child.
It wasn’t that he was particularly mature. Even though he had grown much taller than her, whenever she turned to look at him, she still felt as if he were the little boy who used to follow behind her, clutching the hem of her clothes without saying a word.
He had always been a little childish.
For instance, he insisted on drinking milk from the same cup every time. He was extraordinarily sentimental, carefully storing away all the clothes he had worn as a child because he couldn’t bear to throw them out. And whenever they walked, he habitually stayed on her right side, because when they were little and held hands, she had always held his right hand.
These stubbornly consistent little habits made him seem like a child who had never grown up.
And after she had been given another chance at life, even when he grew older, he was still like a ghost—quiet, obedient, never fighting for anything, never making a sound, like a shadow clinging to her heels.
Wherever she went, he followed. If she didn’t turn around, he didn’t speak.
Shen Yi always felt a tender affection for him. She reached out and pinched his cheek. The skin beneath her fingers was cool and thin, with hardly any flesh. She frowned, then released him.
“Can I give you a hug?” she asked.
She had spent too long in that other timeline.
Shen Yi felt as though it had been ages since she had seen him.
Song Sijun froze for a moment. His eyelashes trembled like butterfly wings stirred by the wind. Then he turned his face away, his voice shaking slightly.
“Of course.”
When Shen Yi wrapped her arms around him, she realized he had grown considerably taller since the last time she remembered seeing him.
He’s grown up.
The thought made her press her lips together in quiet happiness.
Growing up was a good thing.
He had been only fifteen when he died in his previous life, still so young.
Back then, she hadn’t even had time to see him one last time.
She patted the back of his head. His hair was soft beneath her palm, chestnut-brown like his mother’s.
“Do you want to go play at Shen Xun’s house? Everyone’s there.”
“I…”
After hesitating for a while, Song Sijun’s voice came softly from the crook of her shoulder.
“I don’t want to go.”
Shen Yi let him go.
Song Sijun seemed worried that she might dislike him for it. He glanced away, and in the end avoided her gaze entirely, looking off into empty space as he said, “I don’t like that place.”
“I only know you and Shen Xun there.”
And Shen Xun…
In this life, the two of them weren’t close.
Song Sijun had no intention of getting involved with the Shen family again.
The bustle and laughter had always belonged to other people.
Rather than take part, he preferred to stand to the side and watch.
Never reaching out. Never getting close.
Shen Yi, however, was delighted by his refusal. She ruffled his hair and said with a sigh, “You finally know how to say no to me. If you don’t like it, then let’s go out and walk around today.”
Song Sijun rarely refused her anything on his own.
Usually, whether she offered him something good or bad, he accepted it as though he had grown accustomed to doing so.
Even if she said something casually, he would carry it out with complete seriousness.
The fact that he could refuse her was a good thing.
Song Sijun stared at her for a moment. Seeing her smiling eyes, he lifted the corners of his lips as well.
He had been so happy when he received her message the day before that he had hurriedly had someone drive him over. Once he arrived, he had simply kept waiting.
He had come too early. After sitting on the bench for a long time, his face had gone pale, as if winter had drained all the color from him.
It wasn’t until Shen Yi took his hand that he realized how cold his whole body was.
The moment Shen Yi held him, she noticed it too. His fingers were as cold as if they had just been pulled from icy water, without a trace of warmth.
She glanced back at him, then unwound the scarf around her neck—the one she had been wearing as an accessory—and haphazardly wrapped it around his.
The red scarf was warm and soft, instantly covering his neck and half his face.
Song Sijun couldn’t help saying, “…I’m not cold.”
“I’m hot,” Shen Yi replied with a perfectly straight face, continuing to pull him toward the nearby night market.
The night market was brightly lit and especially lively after the New Year. Vendors crowded both sides of the road, their stalls steaming with heat. Multicolored strings of lights hung above them, merging into a warm, glowing river.
She walked along, looking from stall to stall, occasionally turning back to ask whether he wanted to eat something.
Every time, he shook his head and said he wasn’t hungry.
Shen Yi asked him again, “Is there anything you want to do in the new year?”
“Try my best to stay alive.”
After a moment of thought, Song Sijun answered seriously.
Shen Yi laughed. “That’s such a grim answer.”
Song Sijun let out a sigh in turn. Not wanting her to worry, he tilted his head with feigned childishness and replied, “There’s nothing I can do about it. Usually, people are only alive because they’re alive.”
“Try my best to stay alive, and see you happy. That would be even better.”
He was often happy simply because she was happy. That was probably the meaning of his life.
But Shen Yi couldn’t laugh at his sudden answer.
She stopped walking.
The crowd at the night market streamed past them.
Shen Yi stared at him.
She had always felt that there was something wrong with the way this child thought.
He hadn’t been quite right since his previous life.
“But you’re not living for me. You have a life of your own.”
“I know.” Song Sijun answered softly, his voice half-carried away by the night wind. He frowned. “But I still can’t help it… For now, I can’t find any meaning in my existence.”
The light from the stalls fell across his face. Though it was warm and glowing, in the boy’s eyes it seemed to sink into a deep pool, unable to shine back out.
“Besides, I can’t find any other meaning. Just think of it as… something I like. Everyone has their own pursuits.”
There was still a faint smile at the corners of his mouth, floating only on the surface. Whatever lay beneath was impossible to see.
Seeing him like this, Shen Yi frowned. She placed a hand on his shoulder and gripped it firmly, forcing him to look at her.
She didn’t like that look on his face, as though nothing in the world mattered to him.
“But I’m only your older sister.”
“And you’re an independent person.”
“When people come into this world, they’re meant to see many things and meet many people.”
Shen Yi tried to explain it to him gently. “You’ll have other important people and things in your life, too. Your life can’t revolve around me alone.”
Song Sijun smiled, still wearing that hollow, false emotion that barely rose above the surface.
He blinked. “But I haven’t found any yet.”
“It’s all right if you haven’t found them yet.” She paused, then lightly squeezed his shoulder to make sure he was listening. Shen Yi’s voice softened. “We both have long lives ahead of us. I can go looking with you.”
“If something makes you happy—or unhappy—you can always come and tell me.”
People needed to love something, someone.
Shen Yi had found the family she longed for, and she was willing to work for it.
She hoped Song Sijun would find something like that, too.
And if he never did, that was all right.
Even so, Shen Yi still hoped he would make himself the center of his own life, instead of placing all his weight on another person.
“Really?” Song Sijun’s amber eyes shifted faintly. His gaze lingered on her face, as though trying to determine whether she meant it.
Soon, he seemed to sink into a whirlpool called happiness. His expression drifted, and for some reason, there was a strange, almost giddy excitement in his eyes.
Of everything Shen Yi had said, Song Sijun had heard only the most important part:
“The future is a long way off, so you’ll stay with me while I search for meaning?”
“Mm.” Shen Yi assured him once again, her gaze gentle. “I hope you’ll find happiness, too.”
Song Sijun smiled.
“Good. Then that’s enough.”
In truth, the future didn’t matter to him, nor did finding the meaning of his existence.
Those things were too far away.
He couldn’t paint even the faintest color into the picture of tomorrow in his mind.
But if Shen Yi promised to stay with him, then that alone was enough.
All he wanted was one promise from Shen Yi.
With that, he would ask nothing of the future.
