After who knew how long, the remnants of Jiang Cheng's consciousness began to stir. He was exhausted, more exhausted than he could describe, like someone struggling through the midnight sea, swimming forward without direction, without a goal, and with no end in sight.
He could feel someone calling out to him.
The voice was urgent, and at the same time, familiar.
It belonged to someone he knew, someone he was... very close to. A few images flashed through Jiang Cheng's mind, but they were all fragments. Even pieced together, they couldn't form a complete picture.
His breathing gradually quickened. After all, there was nothing left in his world but darkness. Beneath him, above him, all around him... everything was the same. The darkness wrapped around him like thick tar, dragging him deeper and deeper.
"Doctor!"
"Doctor!"
The person was still calling him. So annoying—annoyingly familiar. Jiang Cheng furrowed his brow. He instinctively felt that whenever this person called for him, trouble followed.
He hated trouble. He didn't want to trouble others, and he didn't want others to trouble him. He was a cold-blooded person; he had long since defined himself that way.
But strangely, the voice calling out to him seemed to be an exception.
It annoyed him, but he didn't hate it.
And there was a kind of magic in that voice. It slowly pulled him out of the thick darkness. If he had to describe it, the voice had a healing quality.
When he had completely broken free of the darkness, a beam of light fell upon him.
His eyelids trembled, and Jiang Cheng slowly opened his eyes.
A huge face was right in front of him.
"Doctor!"
The Fatty cried out excitedly, the flesh on his face trembling with excitement.
"Cough, cough..." The shout nearly knocked