Time passed little by little. One month. Two months.
Year after year.
Without realizing it, you turned seven years old. You had an excellent memory and clearly remembered that the past few years had been filled with joy and carefree days.
You had a warm home, a father and mother who loved you, and a younger sister named Herta, who was beautiful, adorable, and intelligent.
All of this made you feel profoundly content.
On your seventh birthday, many guests once again arrived at your small home.
They brought you countless gifts and blessings. The well-wishes were elaborate, but their meaning was always the same.
Long life. Good health. A bright future.
You looked at the dazzling array of presents, at Herta's mother and father greeting relatives and friends, and at little Herta, who had grown even cuter over the past two years, with just a touch more pride in her demeanor.
When you blew out the candles, the wish you silently made in your heart was only a single sentence:
"I hope it stays like this forever."
"Idiot, it's time to cut the cake for everyone!"
Little Herta lifted her doll-like face and gently handed you the small cake knife.
The most important ritual of a birthday party is cutting the cake.
And now, Herta wanted to give you this honor.
You smiled, glancing at the people around you who were watching to see what you would do. You carefully stepped behind Herta and took the small knife.
Then—
You placed your hand over your sister Herta's hand.
"This way… we can cut the cake together… After all, it's our birthday…"
You said softly.
"Hmph. Idiot isn't completely boring after all…"
The corners of little Herta's lips curved upward slightly. Her hand held yours, and yours held the knife.
Just like that—
The two of you cut the enormous cake together.
Applause erupted throughout the banquet hall. The guests raised their glasses to Herta's parents, envying them for having such wonderful children.
For a moment, everyone laughed joyfully, sincerely wishing the best for both of you.
That night, as always, you gazed at the starry sky. On your seventh birthday, the heavens seemed exceptionally clear.
As you looked out at the sea of stars, you suddenly thought of the world beyond.
Hundreds of years later, out there, there would be a train that would occasionally visit you, and a space station that would bear your sister's name.
The Astral Express. The Herta Space Station.
That must be a story from a very, very distant future, right?
You wondered.
Would you want to be part of it?
While you were lost in thought, two cool, small hands suddenly reached around you from behind, gently covering your eyes.
"Idiot, I have a birthday present for you…"
"So you did prepare one? Hmph, hmph!"
Little Herta's voice carried a faint hint of menace.
If you dared say no, then perhaps she would—
Get angry.
"Of course. For such a cute sister, no gift is ever too much."
Hehe… then I'm really looking forward to it. What did Idiot prepare?
Little Herta's voice was cheerful. Her small hands gently turned you around, still covering your eyes.
"Open your eyes, idiot!"
You felt her cool hands leave your eyes. You looked at the table in front of you, where a document lay.
Gravitational Lensing: The Real Interaction Between Two Planets Separated by Millions of Light-Years and Belonging to Different Galaxies
You scanned through the entire paper and discovered—
You couldn't understand it at all.
Only the final section was perfectly clear.
"At present, the two planets have been named at the discoverer's request as follows: the nearby Zhanlan Star, belonging to the Sirius constellation, is named 'White Star.' The distant Zhanlan Star, belonging to the Orion constellation, is named 'Herta Star.'"
"..."
You felt a sudden tightness in your throat, unable to find words to describe how you felt upon receiving this gift.
"Hehe, what do you think, idiot? There's a connection between those two stars, you know?"
"That distant star—no, it should now be called the Herta Star—the reason it appears so bright to us is because of the existence of the White Star."
You were completely lost listening to little Herta's simplified explanation of gravitational lensing. You looked at the beautiful seven-year-old girl in front of you, and your astonishment was beyond measure.
Is this what a genius is like?
Suddenly, a surge of pride welled up inside you. No matter how much of a genius she was, she was still Su Xiaobai's sister.
You pulled little Herta into a gentle embrace, filled with emotion and affection. You were deeply moved.
From this day forward, those two stars would carry your names.
How wonderful.
"I also have a gift for you."
Amid your emotions, you felt a quiet sense of pride. No matter what, she was your sister.
Of course, the gift you had prepared for her had also been done with great care.
"Close your eyes."
You gently smoothed Herta's hair, which had been slightly tousled by the hug, and gestured for her to close her eyes.
The light was dim. You did not notice the faint blush on the girl's cheeks as you fixed her hair.
From a corner of the rooftop, you took out a potted plant of purple bellflowers, still in bud. You had carefully selected and cultivated them for half a year. Their blooming season had arrived, but they still lacked a bit of "nourishment."
You casually picked up the violin you had prepared earlier.
"Open your eyes."
At your words, Herta opened her eyes and looked at the flower buds before her. They had not been vibrant before, but now, under the moonlight, they appeared dazzling.
She gazed at the flowers, the corners of her lips lifting slightly. With her keen perception, how could she not have noticed you going up to the rooftop from time to time lately?
They haven't bloomed yet. I guess Idiot misjudged the flowering season… but still… a gift from my brother—even a pot of unopened flowers—is the best. I like it.
You did not hear the girl's silent thoughts.
You simply turned your back to her, looked at the crescent moon, and skillfully placed the violin on your shoulder.
"Thank you, Brother."
The girl thanked you softly, holding the pot of unopened flowers close to her chest.
"Don't rush… this is only half of it…"
You said with a smile, as the melody you had prepared earlier surfaced in your mind.
"For You."
Your favorite instrumental piece before entering the simulation.
You closed your eyes. The melody flowed through your mind, through your wrist—
And into little Herta's ears.
Your delicate emotions, smooth transitions, and light, cheerful yet gentle and romantic melody instantly spread across the rooftop.
The guests had not yet left and paused to look in that direction.
"It's a piece I've never heard before."
"So beautiful…"
"It's Xiaobai… I've never heard him play this."
Herta's mother's eyes reddened. Through this music, she heard your heart and the resonance of harmonious sound.
The beautiful melody moved her to tears at once. Beauty may be indescribable, but it can be felt.
And on the rooftop, little Herta, who had inherited her aesthetic sense from her mother, was utterly entranced.
When the song ended, you turned around.
"Happy birthday, Herta."
"Wow! The flowers—the flowers bloomed!"
Little Herta looked at the pot of purple bellflowers in her arms. At some unknown moment, they had bloomed, and she suddenly cried out in surprise.
"Thank you, Brother! I'll treasure this flower forever…"