IBO – Chapter 11 Little Song Buli’s Magical Journey of the Heart

This novel contains sensitive and taboo content like R*pe, Mu**er etc. Read only if you are comfortable.

Amid Song Buli’s eager anticipation, the red slash on the calendar finally reached March 12.

Song Buli had originally wanted to wake up early today, but Song Yiran got up even earlier than him.

Song Yiran woke up at four in the morning. Moving quietly, he left the bedroom and went to the storage room.

Looking at the large box of balloons and streamers hidden in the corner of the storage room, Song Yiran could already imagine how happy Song Buli would be when he saw the decorated courtyard.

By the time the courtyard and the kitchen were fully decorated, an hour had passed. Song Yiran was extremely satisfied with the results of all his hard work.

Just look at the courtyard filled with streamers and balloons—he dared to guarantee that no child could say no to a scene like this.

Since it was a birthday, long-life noodles were a must. Song Yiran started fussing around in the kitchen to make them.

The most technically demanding part of long-life noodles is rolling a single strand of dough into a very long noodle that ultimately fills an entire bowl.

However, Song Yiran hadn’t mastered that skill.

Although the noodle broke a few times during the process, it didn’t affect the delicious taste in the slightest.

The broth he made was an ancestral recipe passed down through the Old Song family. Forget boiling noodles—even if you used this broth to boil shoe soles, they’d still be tasty.

Add to that the soul of long-life noodles—two sunny-side-up eggs—and the bowl of long-life noodles was complete.

But in Song Yiran’s view, that still wasn’t enough. He had to add meat slices.

After piling a generous heap of meat slices on top of the noodles, Song Yiran finally felt it looked right. Kids should eat more meat, after all—and Song Buli was still a little wolf, so he needed even more meat.

Only by eating more meat could he grow strong.

Song Yiran was determined to raise Song Buli to be big and sturdy.

Once the noodles were ready, Song Yiran went to wake up today’s birthday star.

“Birthday boy, time to get up! If you don’t get up now, the sun’s going to be shining on your butt!” Song Yiran called out as he gently patted Song Buli’s back through the blanket.

Song Buli, woken by the patting, was still half-asleep. Song Yiran simply picked him up and carried him to the bathroom to wash his face.

After washing up, as his consciousness gradually cleared, Song Buli finally realized what day it was today.

Song Buli wriggled excitedly in Song Yiran’s arms, his little ears twitching twice. “Big brother, Lili wants to look at the calendar.”

The moment he said it, Song Buli felt a bit regretful. If he wanted to look at the calendar, his big brother would definitely put him down—and he was a little reluctant to leave his big brother’s embrace.

But if he didn’t see it with his own eyes, he felt a tiny bit unwilling.

Just as Song Buli was sinking into deep indecision, Song Yiran saw right through him and directly carried Song Buli over to the desk.

Song Buli had been immersed in his inner struggle, but in the blink of an eye he realized he was already at the desk—and his big brother hadn’t put him down at all.

He looked at Song Yiran with a bewildered expression. How did his big brother know what he was thinking?

The moment Song Yiran saw the puzzled little look in Song Buli’s eyes, he knew exactly what was going on. An infant’s thoughts were far too easy to guess—whatever was on their mind was written all over their face.

Song Yiran rubbed Song Buli’s head. “You need to focus when looking at the calendar.”

Only then did Song Buli come back to his senses. Right—he was here to look at the calendar.

He hurriedly shifted his gaze to the calendar on the desk. The day that had been circled had already been crossed out with a diagonal line.

The instant Song Buli saw that bright red stroke, excitement surged in his heart.

Although he had been counting the days every day and constantly imagining the arrival of this moment, when the day truly came, he found himself at a loss.

He had never celebrated a birthday before, and he didn’t know how one was supposed to be celebrated. Would there be lots of delicious food? Would his big brother spend the whole day playing with him?

Just as Song Buli was using his little head to think about how today might be spent, a small bib was suddenly tied around his chest without warning. When he turned his head, he saw Song Yiran helping him fasten the strings.

After a few deft movements, Song Yiran tied a pretty bow for Song Buli.

“Lili, today is your birthday, so you have to wear a bib today.” As he said this, Song Yiran himself felt a little puzzled. When the bibs first arrived, Song Buli had liked them very much, yet he simply refused to wear them.

Aside from that one time when the bibs had just arrived and Song Yiran had forced Song Buli to try one on, Song Buli had never worn them again.

In fact, Song Buli really liked those bibs—he even wanted to wear them every day—but he didn’t dare.

He knew his big brother liked him very much and treated him like a real younger big brother.

But although this period of time had been beautiful, things that were too beautiful were like a dream.

Perhaps he had failed to find food again, fainted from hunger, and then had this wonderful dream.

Song Buli was afraid that this truly was just a dream—because when the dream ended, there would be nothing left.

He would still be that homeless vagrant child, curling up in the grass every day, hoping that tomorrow he might find a little more food.

So he didn’t dare to wear the bib. He knew that once certain paths were taken, there was no going back.

Compared to ordinary clothes, these bibs were more like a Pandora’s box to Song Buli.

If he grew used to wearing bibs, and this really was just a dream, then when he woke up, he would be forever trapped in reality.

Because once he had these warm memories, it would be like a beam of light suddenly shining into a dark, sunless mire.

And when that light disappeared, how could someone who had never seen sunlight in their entire life be willing to return to the darkness?

He would struggle desperately, trying to see that light again—but the more he struggled, the deeper he would sink into the mire, until he was finally swallowed by it.

Until death, never seeing the light again.

Song Buli originally wanted to take the bib off, but when he saw the concern in Song Yiran’s eyes, he suddenly didn’t want to remove it anymore.

A dream, then let it be a dream. Even if it really was a dream, let it become an even more beautiful one.

No matter what happened after he woke up, at least right now, in this dream, he had a home—and he had a family.

That was enough.

After thinking it through, Song Buli decided to cherish every single moment he spent with his big brother.

But when he was carried out of the bedroom and saw the entire courtyard filled with streamers and balloons, the courage he had finally mustered vanished again. What lay before his eyes only made him more certain—this had to be a dream.

Because no one would love him, and no one would prepare these things for him.

Song Buli buried his head deep in Song Yiran’s arms, unwilling to look at those little decorations anymore. It was as if, if he looked even one more time, the dream would shatter.

Seeing Song Buli’s reaction, Song Yiran thought that he didn’t like the decorations and asked, “Lili, do you not like these?”

Afraid that Song Yiran might think he didn’t like them, Song Buli hurriedly replied, “No! Lili likes them a lot! They’re really pretty!”

But Song Yiran didn’t quite believe it. His head had been buried the whole time—he only glanced once and then refused to look again. Could that really be called liking them?

So Song Yiran pressed on, “If you like them, then why won’t you look at them a bit more?”

Song Buli didn’t want to answer the question directly, so he found an excuse. “Big brother, Lili is really hungry. What are we having for breakfast?”

Song Yiran felt that Song Buli was acting a bit strange today, though he couldn’t quite put his finger on why. Maybe kids were just like this—moody, with emotions that came and went.

“I made you longevity noodles today. Big brother will take you to eat them.”

With the topic successfully changed, Song Buli let out a sigh of relief. Luckily, big brother didn’t continue pressing the issue.

But what exactly were longevity noodles? They should be delicious, right—after all, big brother made them.

When they arrived at the kitchen, Song Buli fell silent, while Song Yiran smiled.

Smiling, Song Yiran said, “Lili, happy birthday! All of this was specially prepared for you by big brother! No need to be overly moved—this is all big brother’s love for you!”

Seeing the balloons and streamers filling the room, Song Buli felt very moved. When he saw the large banner hanging on the wall, he felt even more touched.

On that red banner, written in huge characters, were the words: “Happy 5th Birthday to Little Lili!”

When Song Buli was lifted onto the table and saw the bowl of longevity noodles in front of him—loaded with lots of meat—he felt extremely moved.

But when he looked across the table and saw Song Yiran smiling at him with a look of deep satisfaction, he found that he couldn’t hold it together anymore.

No more pretending. Cards on the table. Song Buli really wanted to cry.

Seeing all the streamers and balloons in the courtyard and the kitchen, he knew that big brother must have spent a lot of time preparing all of this.

When big brother was making these things, he was probably thinking only of him. Every balloon, every ribbon, carried big brother’s care and affection.

When big brother wrote that big banner, his heart must have been full of blessings for him—a genuine hope that he would truly have a happy birthday.

All of this was big brother’s heartfelt intention. And all that meat on the longevity noodles—this too was big brother’s love for him.

Big brother wanted him to grow up healthy and happy. But big brother surely didn’t know that this was all just a dream.

Big brother was only someone in the dream.

Big brother didn’t know it was a dream. Big brother only knew to treat him well. But once the dream ended, big brother would surely think he had disappeared. Big brother would definitely be heartbroken…

Song Buli seemed to foresee that future scene. He didn’t dare think about it too deeply, but he couldn’t stop himself. In the end, tears fell like pearls from a broken string, pattering onto the tabletop.

When Song Yiran saw this, he was anxious—but at the same time, there was a strange sense of familiarity.

He skillfully pulled Song Buli into his arms, gently patting him, and softly asked, “Lili, can you tell big brother what’s wrong? Are you feeling unwell anywhere?”

Looking at Song Yiran’s concerned expression, Song Buli steeled his heart and decided to tell him everything.

So after Song Buli finished explaining his entire train of thought, Song Yiran fell silent.

Although Song Buli’s reasoning was a bit jumbled logically, after sorting it out, Song Yiran finally understood.

It turned out that the little crybaby in his arms had been living too well these past days and had come to believe that all of this was just a dream.

He had even taken Song Yiran to be a character in that dream, and thought that Song Yiran didn’t know it was a dream either—so if the dream ended, Song Yiran would think his little big brother had disappeared.

It sounded messy, but an example made it clearer.

In Song Buli’s understanding, it went like this: suppose Song Buli was someone who had transmigrated into a book, arriving in the world of that story, where he met “himself.” That person treated him very well, like a real younger big brother.

But Song Buli’s transmigration had a time limit. One day, he might return to his original world, while “he” wouldn’t know that Song Buli had transmigrated at all.

If Song Buli suddenly returned to his original world, “he” would only think that his big brother had gone missing—and would spend his days in tears, frantically searching.

After sorting through all the logic, Song Yiran didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.

He patiently explained everything to Song Buli, letting him know that this wasn’t a dream—it was reality.

To make his words more convincing, Song Yiran added, “Lili, there’s no sense of taste in dreams. If you don’t believe me, you can try this bowl of longevity noodles. If there’s flavor, then you’re in reality.”

Song Buli took a bite of the noodles. They were just as delicious as ever—no, wait, that wasn’t the point. The point was that they had flavor.

So… this really wasn’t a dream?

Thinking about everything he had said earlier, Song Buli suddenly realized how silly he had been.

Song Yiran gently patted Song Buli’s head. He really didn’t know how a child who had just turned five could come up with such thoughts—this imagination was a bit too wild.

He didn’t know whether he should praise him for being imaginative, or quietly feel sorry for all the anxiety he’d been carrying these past days.

Song Yiran rubbed Song Buli’s little ears. “Lili, from now on, if you have any questions, you can just ask them directly.

“But right now, you should eat your meal.”