Hao lay in bed, tossing and turning, unable to sleep.His thoughts were like crashing waves, with no outlet, filling his mind with confusion and doubt.
"If life can start over, can fate really be changed? If nothing changes, does that mean all is lost?"
This question had been haunting Hao, tormenting him and preventing him from finding rest.Every time he thought he had it figured out, another unsettling feeling would pull him back.He turned over in bed, pulling the blanket closer, closing his eyes, but still unable to stop the questions running through his head.
"If nothing changes, will I repeat the same suffering as before?"
This thought kept him awake, as if trapped in an endless loop.Then, suddenly, his older brother's voice pierced through the silence, filled with frustration and anger:"Can you be quiet?!"
Hao froze for a moment, realizing he had been tossing around in bed for quite some time.He responded softly, "Okay,"then tried to force himself to stay still, staring at the ceiling, thinking quietly.The cracks in the ceiling seemed to silently tell him: this is the reality you cannot escape.
His thoughts became hazy, his eyelids heavy.Finally, Hao closed his eyes and drifted into sleep.
In his dream, he found himself still lying in bed, struggling for breath, his chest tight.Everything around him was a blinding white, and he couldn't see clearly.There were many voices—sobbing, whispers—"Please accept our condolences. He should have about a month left to live."
The words pierced Hao's heart like a knife, and he jerked awake.He recognized the voice.It was drenched in sorrow, as if telling Hao: There is no hope for you.
Hao gasped for air, feeling like he couldn't breathe.He tried to move, but his body felt frozen, as if bound by some invisible force.
Suddenly, he opened his eyes wide, breathing heavily—The blaring sound of an alarm clock shattered the dream.
6:30am.
Hao blinked, the world around him quiet.He stared at the ceiling, his heart still racing.The dream— it felt like he had relived the feeling of his own death.But this time, he knew—It was just a dream, and he was still alive.
Still, the deep fear of fate lingered, like a shadow following him.What if the words in the dream were true?What if this rebirth only meant he had to relive everything again?How could he choose differently to break this cycle of fate?