I wake to the smell of osmanthus blossoms so sweet it clings to my throat. The courtyard is bathed in golden light, lanterns swaying gently though there's no wind. Everything is perfect - too perfect. The marble beneath my feet gleams like it's never felt a human step. When I turn toward the sound of laughter, my breath catches.

There, in the center of the courtyard, stands Langjue - my baby brother, alive. Not a ghost or memory, but solid and real, chasing Shangjue through the blossoms with all the energy of a six-year-old who hasn't yet learned about loss.

"Gege! Catch me!" Langjue's voice rings clear, bright as a bell that shouldn't exist.

Shangjue turns, and for a moment, I see him - truly see him - unburdened by grief, his face soft with a smile I've only seen in faded memories. He laughs, actually laughs, and gives chase, his movements light without the weight of leadership and loss.

I take a step forward, my heart pounding. "Lang-didi? Ge?" My voice sounds foreign to my own ears.

No one turns. No one acknowledges me. It's like I'm not even here.

Langjue runs straight toward me, and I brace myself for impact - but he passes through me, cold as smoke. My brother doesn't even notice my existence.

The world seems to tilt beneath me. This isn't right. This isn't real. But as I look around at the perfect courtyard, the living brother who should be dead, and the Shangjue who doesn't grieve, I wonder if I'm the one who's not real anymore. The poison must have finally reached my mind.

I reach up to touch my face, my hands trembling, and wonder if I'll disappear entirely before anyone remembers I was ever here.