Wang Xiaolu's eyelashes fluttered slightly, like a butterfly about to take flight, and then he slowly opened his eyes. At first, they looked a little dazed, as if he had just woken from a distant dream and hadn't yet fully adapted to the light of the real world.
Wang Xiaolu's eyes wandered around the ward, from the snow-white walls to the hanging infusion bottles, to the white sheets covering her body, everything looked so strange yet familiar.
He tried to move, but the pain in his body immediately made him frown and let out a low and suppressed groan.
The ice-cold and transparent liquid was slowly flowing into his body along the slender tube on his wrist.
Memories came flooding back like a tide, and Wang Xiaolu seemed to still be stuck on that breathtaking scene.
The figure of that person is getting farther and farther away from him...
No matter how hard he screamed heartbreakingly while kneeling on the cold floor, the man never turned back to look at him.
Wang Xiaolu remembered that he was not a "real" person. His memories...his life experience...did not belong to him. In that imaginary dream, a voice guided him to find his complete self.
With his incomplete memories, he is no longer a complete person. He is already incomplete.
"No... no... I'm not a 'human'. It turns out I'm just a helpless soul."
"Wearing a human-like shell, living at the mercy of others every day, living in a dark hell, what is the meaning of such a life?!"
"Why... do you have to remind me... of who I am..."
"Wang Xiaojun... no... I'm not... don't call me that..."
“But even a jerk like me is living a good life…”
"I really want to see him again..."
"He is the star that is out of my reach."
…………………………………………………
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