The sterile white hospital room reeked of disinfectant. Ji Feng lay unconscious on the bed, unaware of the voices echoing in his mind.
"Biological current stimulation initiated. Seeking fusion opportunity..."
...
"Neurological waves stable. Neural connections complete..."
...
"Host's central nervous system fusion successful..."
...
"Intelligent Core No. 1 commencing integration with host..."
...
"Integration complete. Database initializing... Ding!"
...
"Host body enhancement protocol activated..."
Time blurred.
When Ji Feng finally stirred, the first thing he saw was a face streaked with tears.
"Mom...?" The word slipped out before his groggy mind caught up. Then he jolted upright, eyes darting around the unfamiliar room. "Mom, why are we in a hospital? What happened?"
Beside the bed sat his mother, Xiao Sumei. Her red-rimmed eyes lit up the moment he moved. "Feng'er! You're awake!" She clutched his hand, wiping her cheeks with her sleeve. "How do you feel? Does anything hurt?"
Ji Feng shook his head automatically, then frowned. "Why are you crying? Did something—"
"You foolish child!" Xiao Sumei sniffled. "Skipping school on the first day! Collapsing from heatstroke in the street! If that kind passerby hadn't brought you here, I—" Her voice broke.
Skipping school? Heatstroke?
The memories crashed back. The humiliation. The breakup. Hu Xuehui's sneering voice—"a poor bastard child." He'd fled campus like a ghost, too shattered to face another second in that place.
His mother misread his pallor. "Feng'er! Your face is white as paper! Should I call the doctor—?"
"No!" He grabbed her wrist. Seeing the worry etched into her sun-weathered skin, guilt twisted like a knife in his gut. "Mom, I'm fine. Just... I'm sorry. I promise I'll never skip school again. I'll study hard. I won't make you worry anymore."
''Good... good boy." Fresh tears spilled down her cheeks, but this time, they were happy ones.
'Good boy'? Ji Feng nearly laughed bitterly. If he were 'good', he wouldn't have forgotten the woman who'd slaved day and night to raise him—selling vegetables in the market at dawn, saving every copper coin for his tuition—while he'd chased after that gold-digging Hu Xuehui.
'I was worse than trash.'
His mother's story was one of grit and shame. A pregnant rural girl cast out by her family, branded a shameless hussy by the village. No relatives would take her in. No neighbors offered kindness. She'd wandered to the county seat with nothing but the clothes on her back, surviving on scraps of mercy until Ji Feng was born.
His earliest memories? Strapped to her back as she babysat others' children by day, then scavenging through garbage dumps at night for sellable scraps. Only when he grew older did life ease slightly—thanks to a neighbor's loan, she bought a rusty tricycle and became a vegetable peddler.
And him? He'd used to be dutiful. After school, he'd rush to the market to help her pack greens, haggle with customers. Until Hu Xuehui. Until he'd started lying—"Mom, I have extra homework"—just to spend time with that viper.
'How blind I was.'
"Mom." He gripped her calloused hands. "I swear to you: one day, I'll make those who mocked us grovel at your feet. You'll wear fine clothes, live in a big house. Everyone will envy you for having a son like me."
It was his vow—not just to her, but to himself. Hu Xuehui's betrayal had burned away his childishness. What remained was steel.
Xiao Sumei pulled him into a hug, her shoulders shaking. For the first time in eighteen years of backbreaking struggle, she felt 'rich'.
But the moment shattered when the door slammed open.
A pudgy nurse barged in, lips curled in disdain. "Xiao Sumei! Your three-day hospital stay expires in twenty minutes. Pay up or get out!"
Ji Feng's mother stood hastily. "Nurse, my son just woke up. He's still weak. Could we have one more hour—?"
"Hah!" The nurse crossed her arms. "This isn't some back-alley clinic! No money? No bed! Stop wasting my time!"
Xiao Sumei's face flushed crimson, but she bit her lip. "I'll... I'll pay."
"Mom." Ji Feng's voice turned glacial. He swung his legs off the bed, staring down the nurse. "You said we have twenty minutes left. Correct?"
"So what?" She smirked. "Planning to hit me, country boy?"
"Then for these twenty minutes," he enunciated slowly, "this room is still ours. Which means—" He pointed at the door. "Get. Out."
"You little—!"
"Now." His voice could've frozen hell. "Or I'll report you for harassing patients."
The nurse's jowls quivered with rage. But rules were rules. With a final glare, she hissed, "Twenty minutes. Then security drags you to the gutter where you belong!"
The door banged shut behind her.