No matter in the south or the north, it seemed as if every hospital room's ceiling was the same, with no exceptions.
As though the suspended ceilings were all made by the same company, there was no variation or aesthetic to speak of, utterly monotonous and dull to the point of despair.
The air floated with the smell of disinfectant, and my mouth tasted sour with the remnants of medicine.
A cannula was still attached to my wrist, and the machine in the corner ticked steadily, every inch of my body aching unbearably, completely immobilized.
More importantly, the afternoon sun hit my face directly, blinding and intense.
Too sunny!
Nurse? Nurse! Could you pull the curtains for me?
Unfortunately, there was no nurse.
No kindhearted big sister nor meticulous care.
Beside the hospital bed on a chair, there was only a familiar figure, with a familiar thermos cup and a Ghost Work Ball placed beside him, calmly reading the newspaper.
"Teacher?" Ji Jue was stunned.
"Hm?"
