Dr. Li hadn’t anticipated that Lou Wei would ask this question, and he hesitated for a moment. He lowered his head to skim through Wen Fan’s medical records and then nodded. “In general, we don’t encourage patients to receive treatment at home. If you insist on taking him home for recuperation, I can provide you with a list of necessary items, and the cost of medication is separate.” He pulled out a new form from the nearby table, “For the care of patients outside the hospital, we won’t be responsible for any accidents that may occur. You need to sign a new medical form for that.”
After some consideration, Lou Wei, for the sake of extra caution, didn’t agree with the doctor’s proposal but instead suggested an alternative. “If I were to take him out for just one day, would I still need to go through the formalities?”
Considering the hospital’s regulations, Dr. Li replied hesitantly, “You could, but…,” he looked puzzledly at Lou Wei, “What exactly do you want to do by taking Wen Fan out? Considering his current condition, he’s not really fit for leaving.”
Lou Wei hesitated for a moment and ultimately decided not to reveal Wen Fan’s situation. With Li Yunqing’s matter now at hand, he couldn’t let anyone know about Wen Fan’s situation for safety reasons.
Fortunately, Dr. Li didn’t press further. Lou Wei signed the form, and he proceeded to discuss with the two hired nurses about Wen Fan’s discharge for a day tomorrow.
That night, Lou Wei didn’t sleep at all.
He stayed awake until dawn, barely closing his eyes. He got up before six, sitting at the edge of the bed, staring blankly at Wen Fan who was asleep on the other side.
In the dimly lit room, his gaze carried a mix of distress and gloom.
He closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose, letting out a long sigh.
Only he knew how much his hands were trembling.
Lou Wei remained seated at the edge of the bed, motionless, and watched over Wen Fan for several hours.
When Wen Fan woke up, he met Lou Wei’s bloodshot eyes, startling him. He quickly sat up.
“Brother?”
Lou Wei raised his hand to rub his forehead, then shifted and sat up. “Get up. We’re going to the hospital.”
Furrowing his brows, Wen Fan got out of bed and still had his gaze fixed on Lou Wei. He sensed that Lou Wei’s state of mind wasn’t quite right. He took a step closer and almost rushed up to Lou Wei. “Brother, what’s wrong with you?”
Lou Wei stared at him, his gaze lingering, before reaching out to gently touch Wen Fan’s face from a distance. “I’m worried about you.”
Lou Wei continued, “Machines aren’t always effective.”
Moreover, Wen Fan had been detached from his body’s consciousness for so long. Even if he were truly sent back into his body by a device, would he wake up in a stable condition? What if returning to his body’s consciousness turned him into a true vegetative state?
Lou Wei didn’t dare delve into the thought further; he was afraid he wouldn’t be able to accept the outcome.
Wen Fan was still so young. If, after returning to his body, he remained unresponsive, or worse, if his consciousness got trapped inside…
Lou Wei couldn’t even bear to think about it.
Upon hearing Lou Wei’s first sentence, Wen Fan immediately understood what Lou Wei meant. He tried to grab Lou Wei’s arm, but his hand passed right through it.
Wen Fan watched as his own projected body missed Lou Wei’s grasp, his face showing little disappointment, but rather a sense of encouragement. “It’s okay, I believe that you’ll always be there for me, Brother.”
Upon hearing Wen Fan’s words, a heavy stone seemed to lift from Lou Wei’s heart in an instant. They locked eyes for a long while before Lou Wei spoke softly, each word carrying a promise, “Yes… I will definitely make you wake up.”
He wanted to give Wen Fan a hug, but now he couldn’t even offer a simple touch.
Having given the entire company a day off yesterday, Lou Wei could bring Wen Fan’s body into the company today without anyone noticing.
As he and the hired nurses positioned Wen Fan’s body close to the equipment, the pallor of worry that had haunted Lou Wei’s face had turned utterly ashen.
The two nurses beside him were clueless about the situation, unaware of what the enormous egg-like machine before them was used for. As they placed Wen Fan on the reclining chair of the device, they were swiftly ushered out by Lou Wei.
Lou Wei placed his phone beside Wen Fan’s body and gazed down at his peacefully sleeping form.
Then, he walked to the console next to the machine and stared at the start button for a while before taking a deep breath and pressing it.
A soft chime sounded, and the game pod activated.
During the preparatory phase of the game pod opening its interface, Lou Wei walked over to the phone and softly spoke to the image of Wen Fan on the screen, “Five minutes from now, I’ll press the ‘Start’ button. By then…”
Wen Fan looked up at him, his clear voice resonating from the phone within the game pod. “By then, I’ll be back in my body.”
Lou Wei nodded. “I’ll be waiting for you.”
He restrained his excitement, knowing how much his emotions were stirring.
Lou Wei didn’t say more, his gaze fixed intently on Wen Fan.
As the game pod officially launched into the virtual world, Lou Wei saw the phone screen blur for a moment. Then, in the next second, Wen Fan disappeared from the screen.
The QQ penguin that had been standing next to Wen Fan at the equipment froze for two seconds. It turned its head to look at its own backside and then glanced at the nearby app shelf. Confirming that Wen Fan had disappeared from the screen, it suddenly emitted two wide noodles-shaped tears.
Lou Wei raised his hand and touched the penguin on the screen. However, when he withdrew his hand, all the apps on the screen had returned to their static state once again.
An inexplicable fear surged within Lou Wei.
What if… What if everything had returned to the time before he met Wen Fan? What if Wen Fan didn’t wake up again?
A chill passed through Lou Wei’s heart, and he sat down beside Wen Fan’s body, looking down at him on the reclining chair.
The prone form of Wen Fan lacked some of the vitality compared to when he was awake. His clear dog-like eyes were tightly shut. Because of the nutrient supply throughout the day, his complexion didn’t appear rosy, but rather a pallid hue tinged with a sense of desolation.
Still astonishingly handsome.
Lou Wei reached out and gently stroked Wen Fan’s face, feeling the chill on his fingertips, which seemed to penetrate into his heart.
He looked at his watch and endured the agony of waiting for those five minutes to pass.
Meanwhile, within the virtual world of the game, Wen Fan sat quietly on a meadow. The game world lacked seasons, and the place he was situated was eternally in spring. Lush vitality surrounded him, with flowers and plants all around. The time icon in the upper right corner displayed the current real-world time.
Wen Fan took a deep breath and followed the clock displayed by the icon, counting down the minutes.
Just as the five minutes were up, he suddenly heard a ding sound from the sky, a system prompt. Immediately after, a powerful force of suction came rushing towards him. Although Wen Fan didn’t see any changes in the surroundings, this force carried him forward.
As he stepped into a certain boundary, he saw that the scenery around him seemed to have been clipped out of space. Half of his body, which had crossed the boundary, was plunged into an abyss of darkness where he couldn’t see his own hand. The other half of his body remained in the picturesque environment of the game cabin.
Could this really be his current brain consciousness?
Wen Fan looked at the pitch-black space in front of him, feeling an intense bone-chilling cold. Nevertheless, he chose to step further in.
Once his entire body was within the dark space, the scenery from the game cabin suddenly disappeared, leaving only an expanse of darkness.
Wen Fan rubbed his arms and then continued walking forward.
He couldn’t feel a solid ground beneath his feet. It was as if he were walking in an empty space, and every step he took felt exceptionally difficult.
While moving forward, Wen Fan suddenly saw a glimmer of light. He hurriedly followed the light and discovered it was an open door.
Beyond the door was a dazzling white light. Covering his eyes, he stepped inside, but as he did, his legs grew weak, and the sensation of weightlessness caused him to kneel down in the doorway.
Almost immediately, he was helped to his feet by someone. A gentle and soft female voice sounded, “Why did you fall again? Let me see if you’re hurt.”
When Wen Fan heard this voice, he was momentarily stunned. He quickly looked up and met a pair of eyes that were strikingly similar to his own.
“Mom?”
When Wen Fan called out, he realized his voice was trembling.
However, he soon noticed that his mother in front of him appeared too young. She seemed to be in her early thirties, with flowing ebony hair cascading down her back, revealing an exquisitely alluring face. Beside her was the shoe cabinet by the entrance. Wen Fan turned his head and saw that the door behind him had closed. Everything seemed to depict the scene of him just returning home from outside.
But when he quickly lowered his head to examine his own body, he realized he was in the body of his high school years, and when she was in her forties. He was even wearing his blue and white high school uniform, which hadn’t been taken off. His physical age and his mother’s appearance and state were completely mismatched.
This sense of dissonance made Wen Fan feel uncomfortable. He tugged at his clothes and then heard another voice beside him: “Hey there, kiddo. You’ve grown up. You used to call me ‘Mommy’, but after going out for a bit, you’re back calling me ‘Mom.'”
This voice had accompanied Wen Fan for over a decade, always advising him on how to navigate through life’s challenges. Wen Fan looked up and saw a middle-aged man sitting on the sofa in the house. The man was handsome and refined, wearing glasses as he read the newspaper. Occasionally, he cast a glance at them, his lips curved in a smile.
Wen Fan had been living alone for too long, so long that he thought he had forgotten what this life was like. But now, he realized that the image of home in his memories had never changed.
Wen Jian and Lian Xun, along with Wen Fan, went downstairs as usual to the small snack street by the door and had lunch, tasting all the familiar flavors.
Pedestrians passed by them on the street, each breath feeling as real as that of a living person.
Wen Fan was starting to lose his grip on reality, unable to determine whether he had truly returned to his high school years or if it was all a dream. The sensation of having dinner while holding hands with his parents was too vivid, and even the taste of the food seemed incredibly real. But the unsettling feeling was hard to ignore, filling him with anxiety.
It was only when the three of them returned to the front door of their house again that things started to shift.
Wen Jian took out his keys and unlocked the door, leading Lian Xun inside.
However, as Wen Fan lifted his foot to enter, he was suddenly pushed away by Wen Jian, who ruffled his hair with a forceful gesture.
In that instant, he felt as if he had been abandoned, triggering a rush of memories. He vividly recalled the night of the car accident, when he lost his parents—loneliness and fear swept over him.
Just as he was about to speak up, he heard Wen Jian softly and gently saying, “Son, it’s time for you to go back.”
A vague realization dawned on Wen Fan. He widened his eyes, trying to see his parents’ faces clearly, but his tears blurred his vision.
In a daze, all he could hear was his mother Lian Xun’s tender voice, “Fan Fan, your dad and I want you to be well.”
Before he could respond, Wen Fan felt a familiar force pulling him. He didn’t even have time to utter a word before this force swiftly carried him back into the darkness.
The intense sensation of weightlessness and dizziness nearly made him faint. It took a while before his consciousness gradually returned, but soon after, he heard Lou Wei’s voice coming from the darkness, “Fan Fan?”
