After our civil marriage, I had originally planned to take my newlywed wife on a honeymoon trip to Europe. But plans could not keep up with changes, and unfortunately, the Formosa Fun Coast dust explosion occurred. About thirty burn patients were brought into the hospital in a single night. Although I was not a dermatologist, the department director assigned me to provide support, helping with wound debridement and skin grafting while also having to cover duties in the surgical operating room. For a while, I was so busy that I could barely catch my breath. Naturally, our honeymoon was canceled.

My wife was my junior at medical school. We had been dating since her sophomore year, and every winter and summer vacation, we would go to medically underserved rural areas to assist with medical training, while also taking advantage of our days off to travel and enjoy the scenery. My wife was a sentimental young woman, with a gentle, sensitive temperament like a cat. During college, she immersed herself in literature and took elective courses in modern poetry and fiction. She often published her work in newspaper literary supplements and literary magazines, the very picture of a young literary enthusiast. Whenever she was upset with me, she would secretly curse me in the lines of her poems or in her novels. When it came time to choose her medical specialty, she chose psychiatry. She asked my opinion, and I remember that all I said to her was, “No surprise.”

On the night of the dust explosion, my wife came straight to the emergency department after work. When she saw me running around frantically, she immediately put on a doctor’s coat and came over to help me. That night, the first little girl brought in had burns covering more than ninety percent of her body and severe inhalation injuries. She lost her breathing and heartbeat in the burn unit. I did everything I could to save her, but there was nothing I could do. My wife looked heartbroken. She reached out and gently closed the little girl’s eyelids, then sat down beside her, covering her face with her hands as she quietly sobbed.

My wife and I worked until late the following night. By then, we were both mentally exhausted and dazed. Director Shao of the emergency department told us to go home and rest for half a day and return at two in the afternoon.

When we arrived home, the walkway was filled with congratulatory flowers from relatives and friends. We looked disheveled and exhausted. My wife went into the bathroom to take a shower first. By the time I finished showering, she was already fast asleep, even snoring softly. On her vanity was a glass of water that she had only partially finished. I knew that whenever she experienced sudden psychological stress, she had trouble sleeping and sometimes needed to rely briefly on sleeping pills to get some rest, so I thought nothing of it.

I climbed into bed, pulled up the covers, and fell into a deep sleep.

The next day, close to noon, I was awakened by the sound of crying. I followed the sound into the living room. My wife was sobbing as she talked on the phone. I walked around to face her, but she turned her face away. Even so, I had already caught a glimpse of her tear-streaked face.

Concerned, I asked, “What’s wrong, Kitty...?” “Kitty” was the affectionate nickname I used for her.

My wife ignored me and continued talking on the phone. “Mom and Dad, I’m temporarily staying inside the body of a big sister. I miss you both so much. I really want to see you... I should have listened to you and not gone to the Formosa Fun Coast...”

“What the hell! What kind of drama is this supposed to be?” I was completely bewildered.

“Kitty, what’s wrong with you?” I reached out to touch her forehead, but she brushed my hand away.

“Doctor, please keep your hands to yourself!” My wife glared angrily at me and snapped.

I was so shocked that I practically turned into Pinocchio. “I... I’m your Bunny Husband! Come on, stop messing with me, okay?”

“I don’t even have a boyfriend, let alone a husband! You—why did you sleep with me last night? Did you do anything to me? Stay away from me! You pervert, you’re disgusting...” Her expression was completely serious as she accused me, leaving me staring at her in stunned disbelief.

I followed her instructions and kept my distance while waiting for her to finish the phone call. Then she asked me to take her to the hospital morgue, saying that she had arranged to meet her parents there. I was so confused that I could only say, “Okay.”

She turned around and went back into the bedroom, then shouted loudly, “Doctor, does your wife even know how to dress? All she has are those old-lady suits and dresses. Couldn’t you at least dress her up nicely?”

“Just pick an outfit and put it on. Stop complaining for now,” I replied. At the same time, I wondered whether this was what people meant by borrowing someone’s body and returning to life. If so, where had my wife’s soul gone? If she continued behaving like this, how was I supposed to explain everything to my colleagues and to both sets of parents?

I drove the motor home and took my wife back to the hospital. When we entered the morgue, sure enough, a married couple and a little boy were waiting there.

My wife walked up to them and spoke to them first. Then, crying, they embraced one another. I was left standing off to the side, completely dumbfounded, as if I had turned into a wooden statue.

Next, my wife asked the morgue attendant to open the refrigerated compartment. The family gathered around the girl’s body inside, crying and wiping away their tears while murmuring a few words to her. Throughout the entire farewell, the attendant kept looking at me with a puzzled expression. After the family left, he stopped me and asked, “Dr. Chen, is the deceased a member of your family?”

I cleared my throat awkwardly and said, “Yes. She’s my wife’s... cousin. Her cousin.”

The attendant said, “I’m sorry, Dr. Chen. Please accept my condolences.”

I quickly turned around, left the morgue, and caught up with my wife and her “family.”

At the hospital entrance, my wife watched the three of them leave. Then she turned around and waved to me. I immediately floated over to her like the wind.

A sunny smile spread across my wife’s face. “Bunny, let’s go to a restaurant for lunch together. I want a bowl of beef soup. You should have a big bowl too. You need to replenish your energy.”

I asked excitedly, “Kitty, have you come back to life?”

My wife laughed and scolded me playfully. “You big idiot! I’ve been here all along! I never left you.”

“But... but just now, you...” I asked, looking completely confused.

My wife calmly explained, “Little Ling squeezed into my body last night and asked to borrow it for seven days so she could take care of a few things. Helping others is the source of happiness, right? So I agreed to let her.”

Looking at my wife, who was now full of energy and vitality, I truly did not know what to say. I thought to myself, “Thank goodness it’s only seven days. I guess I’ll just have to put up with it for a while!”

“After lunch, I’ll use my credit card to buy half a dozen bottles of Brand’s Essence of Chicken for you and take them to the emergency department. Remember to find time to drink one bottle every three hours.”

My thoughtful and considerate wife had indeed returned to herself.