"Good evening, Gao Ming. Are you feeling unwell again?" After a long silence, Xuan Wen composed her expression, as though theirs were nothing more than an ordinary doctor-patient relationship. "Have the auditory and visual hallucinations started interfering with your daily life again?"
"Those things I couldn't understand were never hallucinations. I don't need treatment, and I won't run away." Gao Ming stepped over the broken glass on the floor, his lips moving slightly. "Inside the laboratory certified for Level Five security clearance, I said thank you to you. Those words seemed to sting you. They mattered a great deal to you."
"You must have been mistaken."
"Even your back was trembling. A Criminal Murder Ghost specializing in psychology exposed a weakness in that instant." Gao Ming kept walking forward, closing the distance between them. "Why do you still remember me? Why do you still remember me from the nightmare?"
Gao Ming stopped between the moonlight and the shadows. A man who should have lost his memories was demanding to know why the other person still remembered him.
That was not really what he wanted to say, but when he opened his mouth, that strange question came out instead. Perhaps it was because he was desperate to be certain of one thing—through his countless deaths in Hanhai, one person had never abandoned him, dragging him out of the mire again and again. He did not want to believe that person had been deceiving him all along.
"Of course I remember you. When you were brought to the hospital, your body was almost shattered. The other doctors and I snatched you back from death." The woman closed the medical chart and looked away, gazing through the twisted bars at the darkness outside the window.
"You snatched me back from death. That's right.