"Little brother... little brother..."
In the dream, there seemed to be a boy running ahead, and she used all her strength to try and catch up to him, but he always ran very fast, very fast.
The crowd scattered them, and she could no longer find him.
Sweat beaded on Gong Shirao's forehead, and her hands were tightly clenched.
The little her pinned a vintage hairpin, and she heard him say his name was Zhan Nanjue.
She told him her name was Gong Shirao, and she repeated her name over and over until she could no longer see the small figure in the crowd...
Until her love could no longer be found.
"Little brother..."
"Little brother... don't go..."
What responded to her was a distant, distant blur, a vague smile. That hurried smile was scattered by the crowd, falling apart in the air, leaving only a sky full of thick smoke, wave after wave, pouring into her throat.
