The Memory of Aise

The day passed by so quickly, it felt as if it had never happened at all.

Night fell.

Mian let out a long yawn, lying on his back on the soft bed, letting fatigue envelop his body.

Soon, the familiar sensation washed over him. His consciousness began to blur, then quickly surfaced, breaking through some threshold like breaching the water’s surface, becoming clear in an instant.

“Mr. Aiser… please don’t come looking for me at night anymore…”

Mian started to speak, almost habitually and helplessly, but his voice suddenly stopped.

This time, the scene before his eyes was different from what he had expected.

It was not the familiar chaotic space, nor did he see Aiser’s figure.

Before him was a strange sight, like the garden of some grand estate… Beneath his feet was an immaculately trimmed lawn of lush green grass. Not far away was a meticulously tended flower bed, blooming with brightly colored flowers he couldn’t name. Further off, several tall trees stood with thick foliage.

I must be dreaming, Mian muttered to himself.

He distinctly remembered that he had just been lying in bed with his eyes closed.

And now, something new seemed to be happening.

“Huh?”

Mian noticed that the lawn beneath his feet seemed to be nothing more than a false decoration, a phantom like a bubble. Though the grass looked dewy and fresh, stepping on it gave him no real sensation of touching grass.

Mian picked a tree nearby and reached out his arm, easily passing through it—where his arm went, there was nothing, as if he had become a ghost.

He even stuck his head through… Inside was an empty darkness, where nothing could be seen.

Alright, it seemed he was indeed dreaming. Everything around him was a dreamscape; that was the only way to explain it all.

And these fine details were clearly things the dream’s master either didn’t understand or didn’t care about.

Mian began to wander around the yard.

Soon, he found an elegant little pavilion in the garden. The pavilion was in a very conspicuous spot, hard to miss.

Inside the pavilion were exquisite, carefully arranged tables and chairs. A round table was covered with a cloth embroidered with intricate patterns, atop which sat a pot of fragrant hot tea and some pastries.

An elegant and dignified woman sat in the pavilion, enjoying her afternoon tea; a handsome middle-aged man sat across from her, chatting and laughing with her.

Mian was somewhat surprised. The two before him were actually Xia Lun and Aina.

How had they gotten into his dream?

Aina occasionally lifted her teacup for a small sip, while Xia Lun wore a gentle smile. The scene was harmonious and peaceful.

But Mian wasn’t entirely sure. Though Aina’s appearance was mostly unchanged, Xia Lun looked noticeably older than he did outside.

“Mr. Xia Lun… Miss Aina?” Mian walked over, trying to greet them, but found that the two were completely oblivious to him, as if they couldn’t see him at all.

They couldn’t see me?

Mian waved his hand in front of Xia Lun’s face, but the other man showed no reaction at all—not even a change in the rhythm of his blinking.

“Father, Mother.” A somewhat childish call came from behind.

Mian turned around. A boy with a clean, handsome face stood behind him, with black hair and crimson pupils. There was a certain resemblance to Xia Lun in his features, but his delicate handsomeness was mingled with Aina’s cold sharpness.

Mian recognized him in an instant. This child was Aiser.

Mian wasn’t stupid. Seeing this, he roughly understood: this was Aiser’s memory.

Had he unintentionally stumbled into Aiser’s memory? Or had Aiser shown him this on purpose?

Was there some scheme behind it?

Mian perked up again, not daring to let his guard down. He watched his surroundings cautiously while focusing more intently on the family of three.

“Aiser!”

Seeing Aiser, Xia Lun smiled and opened his arms to him.

Aiser also showed an innocent grin, threw himself forward, and fell into his father’s embrace, holding Xia Lun close.

Then, burying his face in Xia Lun’s shoulder, Aiser’s expression suddenly showed evident strain and pain.

Mian was taken aback by this sight. Clearly, the look on little Aiser’s face did not match the warm, harmonious scene.

Was this what Mr. Xia Lun had called Aiser’s “problem”?

In the pavilion, Aina watched them coldly, taking in every bit of Aiser’s expression, but she continued to enjoy her afternoon tea, as if the scene had nothing to do with her. She made no gesture.

“Aiser, your hands are so dirty. What have you been up to?” Xia Lun didn’t notice this. Letting go of Aiser, he gently rubbed the boy’s black hair, his tone light with amusement, showing no reproach. “Have you been misbehaving again?”

“I went to play with ants with Eni.” Little Aiser lifted his face, the earlier pain vanishing, and put on a flawless, cheerful smile as he replied to his father.

“Is that so? Playing with ants, huh? Next time, remember to wash your hands… And you need to keep an eye on Eni, don’t let her put anything dirty in her mouth…” Xia Lun said with a chuckle. “With hands this dirty, you’re not allowed to grab any pastries, or your mother will get angry.”

Aiser glanced at Aina in the pavilion, shrinking his neck a bit in fear, a trace of genuine terror showing in his eyes. “I understand, Father.”

Mother really would hit him.

But just as Aiser was about to leave, Xia Lun pulled him back.

“Let me feed you instead.”

“Really? Thank you, Father.” Aiser stiffened for a moment, but quickly flashed another bright smile.

Mian watched this scene in silence.

The family seemed so happy together. Xia Lun fed Aiser the pastries, and Aiser ran off cheerfully.

Mian thought for a moment and decided to follow Aiser’s direction, since he was the master of this dream.

“Ugh—”

Aiser found a secluded corner, leaned against a big tree, and began to retch violently, throwing up the pastries he had just eaten along with the acid from his stomach.

It wasn’t that the pastries weren’t delicious… It was just that he couldn’t enjoy that kind of atmosphere at all. Xia Lun’s feeding made him physically sick. That closeness only made him feel suffocated and nauseated from the bottom of his heart.

Mian looked at the boy before him with some pity. After all, in his eyes, Aiser was still just a half-grown child.

Aiser supported himself with one hand on the tree, wiped his mouth with the other, his shoulders trembling slightly from the vomiting.

Then, Aiser slowly raised his head and looked directly at Mian, who stood nearby with a look of sympathy. His face showed obvious anger and impatience. “Haven’t you seen enough?”