The morning was a bit chilly, and when I stretched my hand out from the bed, it felt ice-cold. Outside the screen window, there was a dim gray haze. At first glance, it still seemed very early. I turned over, just about to close my eyes to rest for a bit longer, when Dad came to call me. He said that all the procedures for my sister’s hospital admission had been completed, and Doctor Lin had arranged to meet him at 10 o’clock at the National Taiwan University Hospital. However, Dad had a meeting to attend and might not make it back in time, so he asked me to take my sister to the hospital first. He would bring her clothes later. Before leaving, Dad reminded me repeatedly to be extra careful when taking my sister.

When I entered my sister’s room, Mom was quietly packing my sister’s clothes and belongings. When she saw me walk in, she asked:

“Did your dad talk to you?”

“Yes, Mom.”

Mom lowered her head and continued packing. I sat on the bed without saying a word, silently watching as she took my sister’s clothes out of the wardrobe, one by one, neatly folding them and placing them into my sister’s small suitcase. The room was very quiet, except for the soft rustling sound of clothes being handled. I sneaked a glance at Mom’s face—it was pale, and her eyelids seemed slightly puffy. Mom had always suffered from insomnia, so she rarely got up early. But today, I had vaguely heard her talking in the next room just after dawn.

“Mom, you got up so early today, you must be tired. Why don’t you take a rest?” I said, seeing how exhausted she looked, bent over as she worked. I stood up, wanting to help fold the clothes, but Mom waved her hand, still not lifting her head. Yet, I noticed large teardrops glistening on the corner of the red sweater she was holding.

“Mom, do you want to see my sister one more time?” I asked when I saw that she was nearly done packing. Mom’s lips moved slightly as if she wanted to say something but held back. After a while, she finally replied:

“Alright, go bring your sister here.”

But just as I was about to step out of the room, Mom suddenly stopped me.

“No, no—not now. I can't see her right now.”

Our yard had always been rather shabby, and it looked even more desolate in October. The branches of a few hibiscus plants hung here and there, with cocoons dangling from them. A few flower buds had barely sprouted before they were eaten by caterpillars, with purple sap oozing out like the blood of wounded soldiers. There used to be two rows of azaleas newly planted along the path, but last month a typhoon came through, and they all collapsed—now shriveled up like stunted old spinsters, unlikely to bloom next year. My sister sat at the end of the path on a pile of stones, holding her chubby cat in her arms. Her face was snuggled against the cat’s head, murmuring something softly to it. When she saw me approaching, she stared at me for a moment and then suddenly broke into a childlike grin:

“Hehe, little brother, I was just telling Mimi (the cat) to behave. I'll get it a fish to eat later! Oh, little brother, it was so cold last night, I was scared to death! I brought Mimi into the bed with me—it was so warm under the covers, but the floor was freezing, Mimi would’ve frozen! Hehe—hehe—Mimi was being naughty, licking my face in bed, and then it ran out again. Look, Mimi, you're sneezing now, aren't you? Behave, okay? I'll get you a fish later—”

She kissed Mimi on the tip of its nose, and the cat wriggled, purring contentedly.

My sister's coat buttons were done up wrong, making her look even more bloated, with her flesh bulging out in sections. One of the sleeves wasn’t pulled on properly, leaving the sweater sleeve sticking halfway out. She had forgotten to take out her hairpins, and two or three dangled behind her ears, swaying as she talked. Her hair was messy, tangled into clumps.

“Little brother, Mimi is so picky! There was no fish last night, and it wouldn’t even eat rice—it made me so mad!” My sister said this just as Mimi meowed twice. She quickly kissed it again, as if afraid of offending it. “Oh, oh, don’t be scared, I wasn’t scolding you or hitting you. If you behave, I won’t say anything. Little brother, look, look at how pitiful Mimi looks.”The rickshaw had been waiting outside for a long time. I had been thinking about how to get my sister to board without raising her suspicions, and then I suddenly remembered that there was a chrysanthemum exhibition at the new park these past few days. The new park was right across from the National Taiwan University Hospital.

“Chrysanthemum exhibition? Uh—uh—well, I do want to go, but Mimi hasn’t eaten yet. I think I’d better not go.”

“Don’t worry, sis. We’ll be back soon, and we can buy two fish for Mimi to eat when we get back. How about that?”

“Really? Little brother.” My sister was so happy that she grabbed the corner of my shirt, laughing. “You promised, okay? Two fish, little brother! Mimi, did you hear that?” She kissed Mimi on the tip of its nose several times.

I helped straighten her clothes and hair before guiding her to the rickshaw. She originally wanted to take Mimi with her, but I firmly refused. She looked so upset when she finally put Mimi down and said to me, “Don’t do that, little brother. Mimi is so pitiful. Without me, it will cry. Look, little brother, it’s really going to cry—Mimi, oh, I’ll be back soon, and I’ll bring fish for you.”

As the rickshaw drove off, I saw Mom standing behind the door, holding a handkerchief to her mouth.

My sister clung tightly to me. I held her chubby arm—it was so warm. She hadn’t been out on the street in a long time, and seeing the lively scenes outside, she was so excited. Her eyes were wide open, like a child visiting the city for the first time.

“Little brother, do you remember when we used to take rickshaws to elementary school in Guilin?” My sister had the clearest memories of our childhood.

“Little brother, back then—you were, what, eight years old?”

“Seven, sis.”

“Oh, and now?”

“Eighteen.”

“Oh! Hehe, little brother, back then we loved swinging together. One time, you fell off—”

“And I bumped my chin, right?”

“That’s right! I was so scared, you wanted to cry—”

“You told me not to cry. You said boys shouldn’t cry, didn’t you?”

“That’s right! Back then, Lili and Jianjian were still around. They were also a brother and sister, remember? Oh.”

Yeah.”

“Jianjian was run over by a car. What happened to Lili afterward—”

“She died of pneumonia, sis.”

“That’s right, I cried for a long time. Later, we helped dig two graves for them at the entrance of the cave, and we even put up headstones! From that time on, I never raised dogs again.”

Thinking of Lili and Jianjian, my sister’s face showed a bit of sadness. After a moment of silence, her thoughts shifted to something else.

“Little brother, back then we loved growing pumpkins. Every day after school, we’d sneak into someone’s stable to steal horse manure to use as fertilizer. Oh, that year, we had one really big pumpkin. How heavy was it again, little brother?”

“Over thirty pounds, sis.”

“Oh, I remember. We took that big pumpkin to the countryside to give it to Grandma. She laughed so hard she couldn’t stop and rewarded us with lots of hawthorn cakes and water chestnuts. What did Grandma always call me again, little brother, do you remember?”

How could I forget? Grandma always called my sister “Apple Girl.” She had been round and chubby since she was little, with rosy cheeks that glowed, and her eyes were like two playful round buttons on a toy bear. Every time Grandma saw her, she’d grab her chubby cheeks and kiss her for ages.

“Haha, little brother, ‘One, two, three, one, two, three, turn left, turn right—’” My sister was so happy she suddenly started singing the song we used to sing at school when we were young. The rickshaw driver turned his head and gave her a strange look. I knew what he was thinking, and my face flushed with embarrassment. My sister didn’t notice. She was still as innocent as when we were children, though the difference was that her once rosy apple-like face had now turned sallow, like it had been eaten by worms, with a bit of puffiness that seemed like it would deflate at a touch. Her eyes had changed too, now dull and lifeless, like the eyes of a goldfish that had been dead for four or five days.

“Shh! Sis, don’t be so loud. People are going to laugh at you.”

“Oh, oh, ‘One, two, three—’ Haha, little brother, what happened to Grandma afterward? It feels like I haven’t seen her in a long, long time.”

The more recent events became, the blurrier my sister’s memory seemed to be.

“How strange! Little brother, what happened to Grandma?”

“Grandma passed away a long time ago, sis.” She had already asked me this question many times.

“Grandma passed away? Oh! When did she pass away? Why didn’t I know?”

“You were still studying abroad at the time, sis.”

My sister’s expression suddenly changed, as if something had pricked her. There was a hint of fear in her eyes, and her lips trembled for a while before she stammered:

“Little brother—I’m scared. When I was alone in the dark dormitory, I sneaked out. Later, I fell into a ditch, and then they caught me and brought me back. They locked me in a small room. They said I was crazy. I told them I wasn’t crazy, but they didn’t believe me. They wanted to lock me up. I was so scared, little brother. I missed you all so much. I didn’t know what to do. All I could do was cry—I desperately wanted to go home. I said that at home, no one would lock me up—”

She clung to me even tighter, as if completely dependent on me.

My face grew warm again, and my palms started to sweat a little.

At ten in the morning, the National Taiwan University Hospital was bustling with activity. The entrance was filled with rickshaws, people coming and going—patients being admitted, others being discharged. Some people had bandages wrapped around their heads, some had their feet in gauze, while others, with nothing visibly wrong, looked miserable and had to be helped inside, moaning and groaning. When our rickshaw stopped at the hospital entrance, my sister quietly asked me, “Little brother, weren’t we going to see the chrysanthemums? Why are we here—” She stared at me wide-eyed.

My sister pointed toward the hospital, and I quickly responded, "Oh, yes, sister, we'll visit a friend first and then go see the chrysanthemums, okay?"

My sister nodded without saying anything and walked with me inside. It was much warmer inside than outside, a bit stuffy. The air had an unpleasant smell that stung the nose, like a mix of disinfectant and the stench from spittoons. The cries of children getting injections, the groans from the emergency room, and the trembling of patients on stretchers in the hallway all mixed together, creating a buzzing hum in this large, museum-like building. The hallways and waiting rooms were full of patients, sitting one next to the other, waiting for their number to be called. Some were reading newspapers with their heads down, while others stared blankly. Whenever someone walked by, everyone would look up in unison.

As I walked my sister through the corridors, I wished I could hurry and cross them in just a few steps. Every time a gaze swept over us, I had to lower my head. But my sister's pace was slowing down, and though she didn’t say anything, I could see the growing fear in her eyes. There was a particularly large crowd outside the surgery department, blocking the hallway. To get through, I had to push through the crowd. Just as I was anxiously making a path with my hands, my sister suddenly grabbed my arm tightly and stopped.

"Little brother, I think we should go back."

"Why? What's wrong, sis?" My heart skipped a beat.

"Little brother, this place is no good. These people... I want to go back."

I quickly lowered my voice and spoke gently to her, "Sis, didn’t you want to see the chrysanthemums? We’ll visit our friend, and then we'll go—"

"No! I want to go back." My sister bit her lower lip stubbornly. She used to behave like this when we were children, and back then, I would always indulge her. But today, I couldn't. My sister tried to turn back, but I held onto her tightly, not letting her go.

"I want to go back!" My sister suddenly raised her voice. Immediately, all the patients turned to look at us. Dozens of eyes stared at me, making me feel extremely awkward.

"Sis—" I called out to her, pleading. But she didn’t care. She kept struggling to leave. The harder I pulled her back, the more fiercely she resisted. Her chubby body twisted and turned, and I could barely hold onto her. Everyone in the hallway gathered around. Some people laughed, and two children ran behind my sister, pointing at her and laughing. My face burned like hot iron, growing painfully hot.

"Sis—please—sis—" My sister gave a sudden tug, causing me to lose my balance and fall against her. Immediately, the crowd burst into laughter. In that moment of panic, without thinking, I pinched my sister's arm hard. She cried out in pain, "Ouch!" and stopped struggling. Gradually, she became calm and obedient, though her round, swollen face twisted with pain.

"What's wrong, sis?" I stammered, feeling guilty.

"Little brother—you hurt me." My sister rolled up her sleeve, revealing a purple-red bruise on her round arm.

It was a long walk to Dr. Lin’s office, with three or four turns before we found a hallway different from the others. This corridor was narrower and sloped downward, gradually leading underground, making it dimly lit. Few people seemed to come here, and the dust on the floor was thicker. At the entrance stood a large iron gate, like the ones in prisons, casting striped shadows on the ground. After the guard let us in, he immediately locked the gate behind us. As we walked, I pretended to be relaxed, talking to my sister about stories from our childhood. She slowly started to cheer up again. Later, she remembered our cat at home and said to me, "Little brother, you promised, remember? After we see the chrysanthemums, we’ll buy two fish for Mimi. Poor Mimi, I’m afraid it’ll cry."

At the end of the corridor, there was another iron gate. Above it, a sign read "Neurology Department" in large characters. Behind the gate was a series of wards, and Dr. Lin's office was right by the entrance.

When Dr. Lin saw us, he greeted us warmly and exchanged a few words. My sister, grinning, said, "Little brother is taking me to see the chrysanthemums." After a while, two nurses appeared behind my sister. I knew this was the moment we had to part. I held my sister's arm as we walked toward the inner gate, the two nurses following behind us.My sister held onto me tightly, a faint smile on her face—just like when we used to walk home from school, hand in hand. My sister’s smile was always so gentle. When we reached the iron gate, the two nurses stepped forward and took my sister away. She mumbled “Little brother” but didn’t have time to say anything else before the gate made a loud "clank," locking her on the other side. It was only then that my sister suddenly seemed to realize what was happening. She quickly turned around, grabbing the bars of the gate with one hand and reaching out to me with the other, trying to hold onto me. At the same time, she burst into tears.

“You said you were taking me to see the chrysanthemums—why—little brother.”

Purple-clad chrysanthemums, celestial chrysanthemums, moon-drunk chrysanthemums, and large white chrysanthemums—ah, they smell so nice. I leaned in close to one large white chrysanthemum covered in dew and took a deep breath. A cool fragrance filled the air, making me feel much more at ease. It had started raining outside, and there were only a few scattered visitors left in the new park. I thought to myself: if—if my sister were here with me now to see these bowl-sized chrysanthemums, how happy she would be. I was a bit afraid to go back—I was afraid that Mimi, my sister's cat, might really start crying.