Chapter 85

Chapter 85

Yale struggled to open his eyes.

His vision was blurred, transitioning from pure darkness to a gradual glow, as if he had just woken up from an extremely long sleep, leaving his mind blank.

Something seemed to cover his face, causing discomfort. He took a deep breath and tried to move his fingers, gradually regaining sensation in his body.

"Ahh!!"

Before he could flail and sit up, a nurse passing by the room glanced in and was startled by the sudden movement of the long-comatose patient.

"Y-You're awake? Duan Li, go call the doctor...!"

Realizing what was happening, the nurse immediately switched on the light and opened the door. After confirming that Yale was indeed awake, she hurriedly nudged her colleague to fetch the doctor.

"What a medical miracle! You're actually awake?! Do you feel any discomfort right now?"

The nurse rushed to check the machines, marveling as she recorded the patient's vital signs.

In the dead of night, she thought a zombie had risen!

"Cough, it's nothing..."

Yale opened his mouth, his voice a little hoarse. After regaining some mobility, he leaned back on the nurse-operated bed with his eyes closed, conserving his energy.

The doctor arrived promptly and, after conducting a basic examination, began to rave about a "medical miracle." The way he looked at Yale was as if he were observing an extinct precious monkey from prehistory.

"After you were declared brain-dead, you've been staying here. Occasionally, I would come to perform a physical check-up on you, and every time, the results were surprisingly good."

As he listened to Yale's chest, he muttered to himself. Seeing Yale's expression shift from discomfort to calm, and then quickly regain his composure, he became even more excited and puzzled.

"There are no signs of muscle atrophy, and no bedsores despite being bedridden for so long... You don't seem like a patient who has been in bed for such a prolonged period. Sometimes, I even suspect that you're healthier than me."

Yale sat for a while, and the discomfort gradually subsided. He had almost complete control over his body again. Hearing this, he chuckled softly, voice hoarse.

"Thank you, Doctor, for your concern. Perhaps I've been, cough cough... rather fortunate."

Once his eyes were no longer sensitive to light and the soreness had subsided, he attempted to open them. The world before him was once again crystal clear.

Before him lay an ordinary hospital room, illuminated by stark white light and filled with the scent of disinfectant. He sat on a narrow bed, clad in a thin hospital gown.

The doctor in a white coat appeared intrigued. "How exactly did you wake up? Did you just suddenly regain consciousness, or was there some sort of catalyst?"

"I... It seems like I had a very long dream, but upon waking up, I can't quite recall its details."

Yale lowered his gaze, attempting to recollect the period from his collapse to awakening. However, his memories seemed shrouded in a veil of fog, no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't grasp the reality beneath.

The doctor sighed softly, having observed that Yale was now stable, and prepared to leave.

"Regardless of whether you can sleep or not, it's advisable to rest more. Let's discuss anything else tomorrow."

"If you feel any discomfort, just press the call button. I'll come back tomorrow to give you a thorough examination."

Once they left, the room returned to its quiet darkness.

Yale followed the doctor's advice, lying down and pulling the covers over himself. Leaning on the remnants of his drowsiness, he closed his eyes, half-asleep.

The memory of the lengthy dream resurfaced in his mind. He belatedly sensed a lingering warmth, transmitting through the hazy mist, like feeling the warmth of sunlight through frosted glass.

...It must have been a beautiful dream.

*

"Doctor... Is that really true?!"

Yale stirred awake to the clamor of voices, struggling to open his eyes. For a moment, the noise around him subsided, only to erupt into even louder exclamations.

"Hey! Hey hey hey—It seems like he's really moving!"

He turned his head, and a large face leaned in closely, with two beady eyes wide with surprise. "Senior! You're really awake, aren't you?!"

Yale barely managed to resist the invasion of personal space and cleared his throat.

"Yes, I'm really awake. Don't get too close, I haven't brushed my teeth in ages."

"Oh..."

The junior reluctantly pulled back a bit but still stared at him with great curiosity.

"What a medical miracle, Senior. To recover from brain death on your own, you're truly a..."

He raised his thumb in admiration for the strongest of the strong.

Yale couldn't help but smile, and the tension dissipated silently. Looking around at the people gathered, mostly classmates who had rushed over upon receiving the news, he saw a senior from the same lab with reddened eyes. She turned away to wipe her tears when she noticed him looking.

"Thank goodness you're awake. It was fortunate we didn't give up and left you in the hospital back then."

"Yes, you don't have any family. It was truly despairing at that time, but... we've weathered the storm, and now it's all about peace and safety from here on out."

The senior placed the fruit basket and flowers together and offered some comforting words. After confirming Yale's awakening, he called their mentor to share the news.

Yale sighed and smiled apologetically, his pale face expressing regret. "I'm sorry for causing everyone worry."

A junior waved dismissively, speaking casually.

"There's no need to apologize. Senior, you were so dedicated that it led to your sudden collapse, not brain death. You've already become a headline inspirational figure on campus, with quite a reputation!"

He was already famous...?

Yale cleared his throat softly, intending to inquire about the experiment's progress, when the hospital room door suddenly swung open, and a somewhat familiar figure hurried in.

"Professor."

"The professor is here!"

Upon his appearance, a few voices reflexively chimed in with greetings. Following their line of sight, Yale indeed spotted that familiar, emotionally suppressed face.

He couldn't help but chuckle, but before he could call out "Professor," he was embraced firmly.

"Ah... Long time no see."

The elder, with his hair half-gray, was visibly moved. Upon reuniting with his once dazzling student, he couldn't hold back his tears and vigorously patted Yale's shoulder.

"Good! It's good that you're back! I knew it, you weren't meant to meet your demise!"

A wave of bitterness rose in Yale's nasal cavity. He blinked, trying hard to suppress his emotions, and hugged the elder back firmly. His voice was somewhat hoarse.

"Yes, I'm finally back."

Amidst the chaos, the hospital room finally returned to tranquility.

"The issue with medical expenses is taken care of. After learning about your situation, the school organized a crowdfunding campaign that covered your surgery and hospitalization fees, with some funds left over."

Having inquired about Yale's condition and confirming his well-being, the mentor gave him a detailed account of what had transpired during his absence, filling in the blanks of his memory.

"The research funding has also been replenished by the school, bridging the previous gap. The project is now in a favorable position."

"You can focus on recuperating for now. Taking a year or so off from school is fine. When you're fully recovered, we'll see if there's a suitable project to assign you to."

The situation was better than expected.

At least everything seemed to have frozen before his coma, with no significant changes to his life. That alone was enough for him to be grateful.

"Okay, I understand... Thank you."

Yale's shoulders relaxed. Meeting his mentor's concerned gaze, he surveyed the crowded room of classmates and couldn't help but smile, pressing his lips together.

That lingering sense of unfamiliarity and disorientation since waking up quietly dissipated amidst this lively, down-to-earth atmosphere.

Noticing his hidden disappointment, his senior sister comforted him.

"Everyone is almost graduating, except for you who has to repeat a year. But life isn't a race. Many of our classmates are choosing to pursue further studies. You can read and learn all your life."

"Exactly, exactly! Hey, Senior, I'm suddenly so curious—"

The junior eagerly seized the conversation, pulling Yale into a discussion about things he normally wouldn't know.

"Did you have any consciousness while lying in bed? Could you hear what was happening outside, or did you have dreams, or...?"

Yale felt a bit helpless but still replied sincerely.

"I don't think I had any consciousness. I don't have any memories from that time. Maybe I had dreams, but I forget them as soon as I wake up."

They chatted for a while more. During this time, Senior Sister even brought him a nourishing soup. After washing up and having the soup and meal, it was already afternoon.

"This is a mobile phone, and some money. Take your time to recover, Senior. No rush at all!"

The junior hastily handed him the items, all essentials for reconnecting with society.

Yale swiftly caught it, smiling as he said, "Alright, thank you."

"Goodbye for now, I'll come and visit Senior again tomorrow."

The crowd gradually left the infirmary. As the junior who was at the back tried to close the door, he lifted his gaze and suddenly froze in astonishment.

Yale sat quietly on the bed, his eyes curved in a gentle smile as he gazed in this direction.

The dazzling sunlight danced upon his hair and collar, casting a delicate veil of gossamer white down the contours of the young man's slender form, making him appear as if he were radiating light himself.

Not a single trace of the passing years had left its mark on him.

His black hair and eyes, as well as his fair skin, remained identical to how they were in memory. It was like a well-preserved ink painting; a gentle shake would remove the dust and reveal its original freshness.

It seemed as if he hadn't been diagnosed with brain death and lain motionless on a dark hospital bed for so long. Instead, he had been lost in the crevices of time, escaping all turmoil to awaken safely once more.

Noticing Yale's gaze, the man appeared slightly perplexed, waving with a smile. "Goodbye?"

"…Goodbye, I'm leaving!"

A faint sense of unease brushed across his mind, but the junior dismissed it quickly, soon bursting into a wide grin as he waved goodbye before shutting the door.

Thud.

The door closed gently, sending a subtle tremor through the room, leaving behind an eerie silence.

Yale gazed at the door in a daze for a moment before lowering his eyes. Reaching into his pocket, he retrieved the old phone and pressed the power button for an extended period.

The device was fully charged and still functional, albeit the WeChat app was sluggish due to an abundance of messages. After clearing out the notifications, the performance improved significantly.

He tried making a call, only to discover that his phone service had been suspended. Intending to recharge his account, he found that his bank card was unexpectedly locked, requiring an in-person visit to a physical branch to unlock it before it could be used for transactions.

He'd have to unlock the card once he was discharged from the hospital.

Flipping through the phone, Yale indeed found the landlord's contact information. He learned that his belongings had been packed away in a storage room, and his previous apartment had already been rented to someone else.

...He was truly homeless now.

He let out a soft sigh, acknowledging that this was, in fact, a more fortunate outcome than he could have hoped for.

The ward was eerily quiet, with only the sound of breathing audible.

Since last night until just now, he had been surrounded by numerous voices—expressions of amazement, delight, inquiries, and concern—that had almost filled every corner of his world.

Although he found it bustling and warm, it wasn't until this moment that Yale had some solitude, allowing him to begin pondering over other matters.

The past was irretrievable, and the future still uncertain but full of brightness and hope.

He should have followed his mentor's and senior's advice, putting all thoughts aside to focus on recuperating and continuing his education.

After all, pursuing further studies was a solid path to take.

However, there was an inexplicable whisper that lingered deep within his heart, only surfacing in moments of silence, urging him—

Don't forget... Don't forget *%$...

Yale pinched the bridge of his nose, attempting to decipher the muffled voice, but to no avail. Eventually, he abandoned the effort, full of doubts.

This subtle anomaly prevented him from fully embracing the path before him, leaving him at a crossroads, hesitant to proceed upon waking up.

It felt like... if he were to ignore this, he would definitely regret it.

Well, let's just take it one step at a time.

*

Yale spent a few days in the hospital, ensuring that his body was in perfect health and ready for discharge.

He sent out a group message to announce his departure, expressing gratitude and asking people not to visit him anymore.

"Leaving already?"

The doctor who recognized him greeted him, emphasizing once more, "Young man, take better care of your health in the future. Especially avoid pulling all-nighters – one visit to the hospital is enough."

Yale coughed softly. "Alright, I'll keep that in mind."

Three years without being hospitalized, then getting stuck for three years straight.

He had had his fill of sleeping in the hospital, and he no longer wished to lie on that stiff hospital bed.

Yale didn't have much luggage in the hospital. After completing the discharge procedures, he could leave immediately with just a small bag.

Pushing open the hospital doors, the hustle and bustle of the outside world instantly flooded his senses.

The ceaseless flow of vehicles and the bustling crowds were images ingrained in his bones for over two decades, evoking a sense of familiarity upon sight.

Yale froze for a moment, almost feeling a hint of apprehension in that instant.

"Hey, handsome, are you leaving or not? Don't block the entrance, okay?"

A middle-aged man in a vest and shorts patted him, then, after Yale turned around, gave him an appraising once-over.

"You're really handsome! My instincts were spot on."

Yale quickly pulled the door wide open, stepping aside to let the man pass. "Sorry, please go ahead."

As the man walked out, Yale finally released the door handle, stepping cautiously from the shade of the eaves into the bright, bustling sunshine.

The sunlight was more blinding than he had anticipated.

Yale squinted slightly, raising a hand to shield his eyes. Exiting the hospital grounds, he suddenly felt a touch of bewilderment.

The intersection before him was both familiar and alien. He was still in the same city, in an area he once knew well, but much had changed over the three years.

Shops, dwellings, and roads had all undergone renovations, diverging from his faint recollections.

Yale felt an inexplicable sense of déjà vu.

"Beep beep!"

A taxi pulled up beside him, honking twice. He hastily took two steps back to signal that he wasn't looking for a ride. The car promptly drove off.

"It seems to be No. 17 High School. The old buildings should still be there. Let's take a stroll to get familiar with the place."

Yale scanned his surroundings, his eyes suddenly brightening as he headed towards an area that had retained its original appearance.

It was almost time for school to end, and the vendors outside the high school were already set up, eagerly awaiting the hungry students to rush out so they could make a good sale.

"Starch sausage! Handsome guy, would you like a starch sausage?"

"Pipajiao! One yuan per stick of delicious Pipajiao! Tasty and savory Pipajiao~"

He strolled beneath the trees, soon feeling the sunlight less glaring. Originally, he planned to buy something casual to eat and then head to unlock his bank card.

The sizzling oil in the pan sounded appetizing, while the golden egg mixture exuded a tender fragrance. An array of ingredients, skewered on bamboo sticks, awaited selection before being plunged into the cooking oil – all were delicacies capable of easily stirring one's cravings.

"Maangchi! Two yuan each, five yuan for three! You can choose your flavors!"

Back when he was in **, a significant portion of his longing had been for the hometown's delicious food.

**?

Yale froze for a moment. A fleeting thought flickered across his mind, but he couldn't grasp that elusive **.

Lost in thought, he stood there for a while, coincidentally stopping by the maangchi stall. The enthusiastic owner, a friendly lady, waved at him.

"Handsome guy! Our maangchi is particularly tasty with many flavors. Would you like to give it a try?"

Yale snapped back to reality and instinctively looked at the stall. Indeed, he saw colorful maangchis of various flavors, looking particularly translucent and attractive.

"This one is passion fruit flavor, this is blueberry, strawberry, mung bean, osmanthus... You can choose any flavor you like. Three for five yuan, very affordable!"

"Take a look at this."

Yale was captivated, instinctively reaching out, only to grasp at thin air. His desire to share the moment froze along with his hand.

He paused, looking at his hand in confusion before turning to the crowd.

Just now... who did he want to invite to see this with him?

Yale didn't have many close friends, not due to any particular reason, but simply because he enjoyed solitude more. He usually went places alone and had long grown accustomed to it.

His spontaneous desire to share just now was unusual for him.

Yet, he was completely unaware of how this new habit had formed, or with whom he had developed it subconsciously.

But it was undeniable that when his hand reached out and found nothing, an emptiness seemed to open up within him, a hollow ache that stung with the slightest breeze.

"Handsome guy, would you like another? This is really delicious, the taro filling even bursts in your mouth! And here's the strawberry one you were eyeing."

The proprietress, slightly puzzled, still energetically promoted her puddings, picking up the strawberry one as she followed Yale's gaze.

"I'll have one strawberry, one passionfruit, and one taro paste, please."

Yale pursed his lips, selecting three flavors. He dug into his small bag for some cash his mentor had given him and handed over a twenty-dollar bill.

After walking a short distance with the plastic bag in hand, he took a bite of the passionfruit-flavored one.

It seemed to contain real passionfruit juice, with an authentic tartness that made Yale frown in slight distress. He ate it while enduring the tingling sensation in his teeth.

...He didn't usually like such sour flavors, but he had subconsciously chosen it.

Perhaps it was because that nonexistent "person" liked it.

Hmm, it could also be a ghost.

He sighed, allowing his mind to wander for a moment. However, the fog still lingered, and he could only suppress his curiosity for now.

Passing by a store, he picked up some toast bread as dinner for tonight. Yale quickly found the bus stop and located a bank from memory.

"Screech—"

The bus rocked to a halt before him, hissing as it released air, and the front door swung open with a bang. Yale rushed on board, digging into his small backpack in search of two yuan.

...Wait a moment.

Where was the change he had just received?

Yale's confusion grew as he rummaged through his bag. He was sure he had taken the change from the shop owner – it had been a ten and a five, and he had specifically broken down that five into smaller bills.

"Beep, two yuan."

While he searched, a sharp-looking woman with short hair boarded the bus. She first scanned her ride code, glanced at him, then refreshed it and scanned again.

"Beep, two yuan."

Yale froze for a moment, realizing that the woman had paid for his fare. Without thinking, he blurted out, "%￥#."

Wait, what nonsense was he spouting?

Yale blinked, coming back to his senses, and quickly corrected himself, "Um... thank you!"

The short-haired sister looked slightly perplexed but still nodded at him before turning to sit down in her seat.

There were many seats on the bus, and Yale chose one by the window.

The glass and seat were warmed by the sunlight, while the view outside the window was blurring and receding in motion.

He saw many familiar sights. The outline of the city grew clearer from vagueness, gradually filling in the gaps of those lost years.

A sense of joy and comfort sprouted continuously, descending from the ethereal sky to the solid ground.

It should be like this. It should be exactly like this.

Like a fetus returning to its mother's womb, nestled in warm amniotic fluid, every cell exuded the delight of reunion and belonging—

He truly belonged here, both in body and soul.

Yet, Yale could keenly feel that he was suppressing the desire to share and confide.

That tree had such an odd shape, resembling a rose.

Feeling slightly hungry, he craved for some bread... but then he remembered he hadn't bought any water. Eating it dry would surely choke him.

Ah, school was already over. Here, students wore identical blue and white uniforms every day, switching between different sets.

The clay-roasted chicken from this place was particularly delicious, with an authentic flavor, tender and juicy... though it was a bit pricey.

It felt as if there should be someone, sitting right beside him at this moment, attentively listening to all his whimsical thoughts and responding with concise yet gentle words.

This person would meticulously take care of everything, ensuring he wouldn't just casually overlook his dinner. Sometimes quiet, sometimes chatterbox, but in any case, utterly endearing.

This was the other half of his life and soul, unforgettable and indispensable.

After realizing he couldn't suppress these emotions, Yale let them flow naturally, feeling that peculiar sensation coursing through him, like the sun enveloping him.

He was longing, but not entirely absorbed in the present world. In fact, his yearning was evenly divided, neither side less significant than the other.

Yale opened his mouth, wanting to call out the name that lingered on his lips, but he found himself unable to cross that threshold.

He took a deep breath and leaned, somewhat weary, against the glass window.

...Never mind.

*

With the bank card unlocked and topped up with credit and data, the smartphone finally regained its convenience.

As evening fell, the air grew cool like still water.

Unable to return to his previous rental, and needing to wait until tomorrow to retrieve his belongings, Yale decided to stay temporarily at a hotel.

Click.

The hotel room door clicked shut behind him. Exhausted, Yale threw himself onto the bed, closing his eyes to conserve energy. Only then did he begin to regain some strength.

After lying in the hospital for so long, his body had taken a toll. He was now significantly thinner, with the bones easily distinguishable beneath his skin.

The clock on the hotel wall ticked steadily.

The door to the small balcony was ajar, and the evening breeze billowed the smoke-gray curtains, gently brushing against a glass vase holding dried roses on the table before subsiding.

The last vestiges of the sunset faded, casting the room into a dim light.

"..."

Yale opened his eyes soundlessly, his gaze lost in the sky outside the window, feeling inexplicably disoriented.

He had finally returned home.

But it wasn't as comforting or joyful as he had imagined.

He himself couldn't pinpoint the reason; his memories had deceived him, yet they couldn't disguise his unconscious reactions and emotions.

Had he, during his coma, merely dreamed an illusory, beautiful fantasy?

Or...had he genuinely experienced a new chapter of life?

Author's Note:

Yeye: Oh my, seems like I gained a ghostly husband during the coma (thinking).