Mist Illusions

Bang! Bang! Bang!

The knocking outside the door jolted Chen Xingyi awake from his deep sleep.

“Are you feeling better?” A gentle woman's voice broke the quiet of the room.

Chen Xingyi slowly opened his eyes. A sharp pain in his head made him draw a cold breath.

“What happened to me?”

Holding his head, squinting, he surveyed his surroundings. It was unmistakable that he was in a hospital room—the air was thick with the scent of disinfectant, the walls and sheets so spotless they gleamed, and the woman before him was clearly dressed in a nurse’s uniform.

“Ah? You don’t remember? You were in a car accident yesterday. The ambulance brought you here,” the somewhat plump nurse said, pen in hand, taking notes as she spoke, her tone full of concern.

“I…was in a car accident? I don’t remember a thing.”

Chen Xingyi cradled his head, eyes closed, trying to recall yesterday’s events. Whether it was the pain from touching his wound or the strain of thinking right after waking up, the throbbing in his head intensified and he let out a low moan.

“Careful with that wound, young man.”

From the doorway entered an elderly man in a faded white coat, glasses perched on his nose, the deep lines on his face betraying his age. He spoke as he walked in.

“And you are…?”

“I’m your attending physician. How are you feeling?”

The kindly-faced doctor seemed like a savior to Chen Xingyi, who quickly sat up and stammered, “I…I can’t remember anything.”

The old man adjusted his glasses, looked Chen Xingyi straight in