Ye Xiaoxiao remained motionless on the hospital bed. Her mother stayed by her side day and night, her eyes bloodshot from exhaustion.
The professional caregivers arranged by Wayne had arrived, along with specialized nursing equipment suitable for long-term coma patients. As the machines were wheeled in, Mrs. Ye asked with tearful eyes:
"Wayne... all of this... must be very expensive, isn't it?"
Wayne, who was pouring hot water for her, gave her a casual glance. "Auntie, money is only a problem if it can't solve things."
Mrs. Ye's nose reddened. "But I can't let you spend so much... I can consider it a loan. When Xiaoxiao wakes up, we will find a way to pay you back..."
Hearing the word "repay," Wayne finally turned around. He took off his mask, revealing a rare smile—not flamboyant or sharp, but gentle, soft, and full of ache.
"Auntie," he said softly, "if you talk about paying me back... I'll actually get angry."
Mrs. Ye froze. Wayne walked over and placed the cup of hot water in her hands, his tone comforting yet thick with suppressed emotion.
"I just want Xiaoxiao to wake up. Nothing else matters. I'm not doing this because I'm generous..." He paused, looking down, his voice as quiet as if he were afraid to wake someone. "...it's because she was the first person to ever treat me like family."
Mrs. Ye burst into tears. She took Wayne's hand with a trembling grip. "Child, you aren't unloved. You are a good boy... a truly, truly wonderful boy."
Wayne's composed facade shattered into dust. His eyes welled up, but he forced the tears back. He looked away, whispering, "Auntie, don't say that... I won't be able to take it."
In that moment, Mrs. Ye truly looked at him as another son. And for the first time, Wayne had no disguise in front of a mother. The room fell silent, save for the hum of machines. Xiaoxiao slept on, but the room was filled with a newfound warmth—the warmth of a home.
[The Qiao Residence]
At the breakfast table, Madam Qiao suddenly received a phone call that turned her face pale.
"Feifei? Your dance troupe heard you woke up. They want you back this afternoon to rehearse the new choreography!"
Ye Xiaoxiao nearly sprayed her milk. "Go back? Today??" Her legs went weak, and she almost slid off her chair.
Qiao Fei's soul practically exploded. "It's over, it's over! My legs—your legs—nobody's legs can handle this!!"
Qiao Sheng frowned. "Why is the troupe in such a hurry?"
Madam Qiao looked anxious. "White Feather premieres in City A next month. You're the lead dancer. they say they can't do it without you!"
"But I—I—" Xiaoxiao wanted to say she couldn't even manage a basic aerobics class, but Qiao Fei's soul floated right in front of her face, rolling her eyes in fury.
"Shut up!! Shut your mouth right now!!" Qiao Fei's soul clutched her hair as if she were about to ascend to another plane of stress. "Do you even know what a 'lead dancer' is? It's not just posing! It's jumping 80 centimeters off the ground, spinning three times, and landing like you're stepping on a cloud!! You nearly died just walking down the stairs!"
Xiaoxiao: "...I didn't choose this!" She was on the verge of tears. "I even lose the rhythm when I'm doing morning exercises with the old ladies in the park...!"
Qiao Fei's soul: "Show me. Jump. NOW!"
Xiaoxiao took a deep breath, awkwardly lifted her arms and legs—looking like a chubby duck trying to squeeze out the elegance of a swan. Fate was not kind. Her leg began to shake violently halfway through as if someone had turned on a high-speed vibration mode.
Qiao Fei's soul looked like she was witnessing the apocalypse. "It. Is. Over."
Qiao Lin approached them (well, Xiaoxiao), his brow furrowing. "Feifei, are you still not recovered? Why is your posture so unstable?"
Qiao Fei's soul frantically gestured to Xiaoxiao: "Say your back hurts, your feet hurt, your head hurts—EVERYTHING HURTS!!!"
Xiaoxiao blurted out, "It hurts... everything hurts..."
Qiao Lin immediately switched to doctor mode. "I'll take you for a full evaluation—"
Qiao Yi suddenly appeared, his voice gentle. "Don't rush her. Feifei just woke up a few days ago. I'll handle the dance troupe and tell them she still needs rest."
Xiaoxiao was moved to tears. "Third Brother...!"
"Follow me."
Qiao Fei's soul spoke coldly but floated swiftly toward the back of the second floor. Xiaoxiao followed, eventually stopping before a set of grey-white sliding doors. Qiao Fei pushed them open.
Xiaoxiao's jaw dropped. "Wow..."
It was a dream studio. White oak floors so polished they acted as mirrors; three walls of floor-to-ceiling glass; rows of dance shoes from child to adult sizes; curved barres, professional sound systems—even a grand piano in the corner.
"This is the dance studio," Qiao Fei's soul said, arms crossed. "My parents had this built for me when I was five. I grew up here, practicing five hours a day."
"Five hours? Every day??"
"That's normal for a professional. Ankles, knees, glutes, core—nothing can be lazy."
Xiaoxiao was breaking into a sweat. "But I... I don't even know how to warm up..."
Qiao Fei pointed to the center of the room. "Stand there. Feet together. Arms down. I need to see if you are teachable or a lost cause."
Xiaoxiao stood up, looking like a bent toothpick in the wind. Qiao Fei's soul covered her face. "Oh, heavens..."
"Am I going to be 'returned' today...?" Xiaoxiao whispered.
"Don't worry," Qiao Fei said. "Even if I wanted to return you, I can't. You're in my body." Her voice was cold, but there was a strange, protective resignation in her tone.
Qiao Fei moved in front of her, demonstrating a position. "First move: Plié. Bend your knees."
Xiaoxiao panicked. "What language is that??"
"French."
"Can you say it in Chinese...?"
Qiao Fei took a deep breath, suppressing her urge to scream. "SQUAT."
Xiaoxiao squatted instantly. THUD. She almost sat directly on her rear.
Qiao Fei: "..."
Xiaoxiao: "I-I tried my best...!"
Qiao Fei suddenly drifted closer, looking at Xiaoxiao's reflection in the mirror. Her voice was no longer sharp, but eerily calm.
"Ye Xiaoxiao, listen to me. You are using my body. This body has danced ballet for twenty years. It remembers every movement. As long as you don't snap it in half, I can teach you."
Xiaoxiao's eyes prickled. "I'll work hard... I really will."
Qiao Fei's soul stared at her for a long second, then tapped Xiaoxiao's forehead. "Fine. Starting today... I will teach you how to be Qiao Fei. Even if you dance like a duck with a leg cramp."
"Ugh..."
"Don't cry. Now, let's start with something that won't kill you—standing on your tiptoes."
In the studio, the mirrors reflected two girls—one standing in a body not her own, and one teaching with a soul that couldn't return. Two worlds, in the same mirror, slowly began to overlap.