"Hmm..."
A terrible headache plagued him.
It felt as if his head had been cleaved by an axe, buzzing incessantly, each nerve shrieking in agony.
Ye Hanjun slowly rose from the ground, feeling cold sweat soaking his back, an unprecedented sense of weakness enveloping his organs.
"What... what happened to me?"
Ye Hanjun clutched his throat, gasping for air desperately.
After a while, when his breathing eased slightly, he sat foolishly on the ground, at a loss.
His unfocused pupils, like those of a soulless puppet, the kind with severed strings, exuded a pitiful and incomplete quality.
"Hiss!"
One bizarre image after another flashed through his mind like scenes from a film.
Ye Hanjun felt as if struck by a heavy hammer and made a motion as if to vomit, but no blood came.
His memory was reviving, finally remembering his name, his experiences.
"I was... transcending tribulation!"
