A Record of Smiles

I was born with memories of a past life. And by past life, I don't just mean my previous life, but also the worlds I have lived in. I died of stomach cancer in my previous life, at the age of twenty-five. The disease had tormented me so much that I longed for death, but my parents wept at my bedside, and my grief-stricken brother was consumed by gloom. I couldn't just give up. I fought on and forced myself to smile, thinking I could spend a little more time with my family and leave them more memories. But when I accidentally overheard a conversation between my brother and the woman who was soon to be my sister-in-law, I understood: as long as I was alive, I could only cause my parents suffering.