The words "parents" held a special meaning for Chen Ge. Whether in the memory fragments scattered through his mind or in the recollections the doctor had told him, parents were the starting point of every mystery.
It could be said that the most critical reason Chen Ge had become the person he was today was because of his parents.
He knew this very clearly, yet he didn't know why such a thought would arise.
The parents in his memory were nothing more than two names. The moment he tried to think about anything related to them, his brain would explode with searing pain.
The parents described by the doctor had concrete images, but they failed to generate any sense of recognition in Chen Ge — as though the doctor were speaking about someone else's parents entirely.
Given Chen Ge's personality, he would never have raised the matter with anyone. But he hadn't expected Zuo Han to bring it up so directly.
Every word from Zuo Han's mouth was like a knife, plunging straight into Chen Ge's mind and piercing through one memory fragment after another.
"They're still alive?"
All of the hospital's conclusions rested on one major premise: that Chen Ge's parents had died in a car accident. But if his parents were still alive, then everything the hospital had told him could be completely overturned!
So to prove what was real and what was illusion, to determine whether he truly was sick — it was actually quite simple. All he had to do was find his parents.
That was Chen Ge's last thought before the pain dragged him into unconsciousness. As his body crumpled, he shoved Zuo Han hard — he was worried the second personality inside him might hurt Zuo Han.
Watching Chen Ge slip back into unconsciousness, Zuo Han drew a sharp breath. "Terrifying willpower. Every blood vessel in his body was bulging like parasitic worms, and he still managed to hold on long enough to push me away before passing out."
Truthfully, Zuo Han was a little afraid of Chen Ge too. But certain small gestures and details Chen Ge showed from time to time always seemed to chip away at that fear.
Just now, for instance — enduring that level of pain, Chen Ge had still been worried about whether he might hurt someone else.
"Someone this gentle — why does he have to suffer like this?" Zuo Han turned to look at the ward door, and his gaze turned cold. "This world looks wonderful at first glance. My memories are all happy ones. But it was precisely this 'perfect' world that locked me in a psychiatric hospital. Is it really as beautiful as it seems?"
…
When Chen Ge woke again, it was already evening. Doctor Gao and two orderlies were in the ward. Zuo Han lay on his side in the same position he had been before, apparently asleep.
"Time for your medication, Chen Ge." Doctor Gao tipped three white pills out of a bottle and watched Chen Ge swallow them before his expression softened slightly. "There's food on the cabinet by the bed — make sure you eat. Lock your door before you go to sleep tonight. We've had a small problem in the hospital recently. One of the patients was injured, and we haven't figured out who did it yet. Don't wander around at night."
"Okay." Chen Ge nodded weakly. His body seemed to have hit its limit — his complexion was terrible.
"Get some rest." Doctor Gao sighed and had the orderlies unbuckle the restraints on Chen Ge's wrists and ankles before leaving the ward.
"Why does it feel like Doctor Gao is getting busier and busier? The other day he gave off an extremely confident impression — did something happen?" Psychiatrists tried their best not to show their own problems when treating patients, so when handling certain difficult cases, they would deliberately put themselves in peak condition beforehand. Doctor Gao had done this well at first, but over the past few days his condition had deteriorated noticeably.
"Is there a patient in this hospital more troublesome than me?" Once Doctor Gao was gone, Chen Ge's expression returned to normal. "It might not be a patient, either. Maybe it's another doctor who's got him worried."