Tang Yu's body hurt so much that she couldn't even curl up.
The process, akin to torture, made her cry until she could hardly make a sound in her throat.
She collapsed into the chair, shattered to pieces.
Tang Yu felt like she had a very, very long dream, in which she couldn't wake up no matter what.
It was a nightmare, a pitch-black world, where she could see nothing, hear nothing.
Was it Hell after death?
Otherwise, why would her mood be so desolate?
When Tang Yu was conscious, she smelled an acrid scent of disinfectant.
Her long eyelashes trembled slightly, and she slowly lifted her eyelids, her eyes weakly moving.
There was a woman in a white coat standing beside her, fussing over an IV bottle hanging on a rack.
"I..." Tang Yu just started to speak when her throat felt painfully stretched.
"You're awake?" The doctor quickly took the cup of water next to her and held a straw to her lips.
