Eighteen

The next day, Xiao Ai returned to the city hospital for a follow-up visit. Dr. Zhao carefully removed the bandages from her head—this was the final wound to heal. Once the scars there were gone, her entire body would be restored.

Layer by layer, the gauze came away, revealing flawless, porcelain skin. A fresh, youthful face emerged, delicate and lovely, with enchanting eyes and a gentle innocence. Until now, only Xiao Ai’s eyes, mouth, and nostrils had been visible; the rest had been hidden beneath wrappings. Now, her entire face was clear to see.

“It’s completely healed, exactly as before! It’s a miracle!” Dr. Lihua Zhao exclaimed with delight, her expression radiant with joy. She seemed as moved as if her own dearest kin had recovered, her heart swelling with relief at seeing the girl restored.

“Exactly as before?” Xiao Ai echoed in surprise, uncertain what Dr. Zhao meant.

“Yes, just as before. Child, you have been reborn—it is truly a miracle.” The doctor spoke with her usual conviction, as though divine intervention had touched them, though Xiao Ai could not tell if she truly believed it herself.

“What was I like before?” Xiao Ai wondered if Dr. Zhao was referring to a time when they had known each other.

But Dr. Zhao shook her head, her reply ambiguous. “Don’t dwell on the past. What matters is that you are alive again. You are blessed, my child!”

“I can’t remember anything from before. Do you know who I was? Have we known each other a long time?” Xiao Ai pressed, sensing Dr. Zhao might hold answers.

Suddenly, tears welled in Dr. Zhao’s eyes. She embraced Xiao Ai tightly, leaving the girl bewildered by the doctor’s unpredictable manner.

At that moment, someone entered—it was Dr. Edmund Ai.

“To be honest,” Edmund said, “you look so much like our daughter, Wen.”

Startled, Xiao Ai turned to face him.

Dr. Lihua Zhao explained, “Edmund and I are married. Wen is our daughter.”

Xiao Ai was shocked—so this was what they meant by ‘just as before.’ It wasn’t about herself, after all. Yet, in that instant, a flurry of images flashed through her mind, the sensation sharp as an electric jolt. Pain throbbed in her head. In the fleeting visions, she glimpsed a white van, three people inside, laughing together. But the pictures flickered by too quickly for her to grasp.

Edmund reached into his coat and brought out a photograph: a family portrait, their daughter included. Xiao Ai examined the photo, comparing it to her reflection—indeed, the resemblance was remarkable. But she had no memory of looking this way.

“Your daughter’s name was Wen? What happened to her?” Xiao Ai asked.

“She’s gone, she’s in a very faraway place,” replied Dr. Lihua Zhao.

“Where did she go?” Xiao Ai pressed, perplexed.

“It doesn’t matter now. It’s as if she’s returned—you and she are indistinguishable. If you’re willing, we will be your parents.” Tears streamed down Lihua Zhao’s face, her eyes pleading with longing.

Her gaze was heavy with hope, but Xiao Ai did not know how to respond.

“Gone to a faraway place? Where exactly?” she tried again, desperate for clarity.

But the couple only gazed at her, their sincerity palpable, offering no direct answer.

“Do you really believe I’m your daughter? But I have no memories, I don’t know how I became like this,” she kept asking.

“It’s alright, child, don’t be afraid. We’ll help you, do everything we can. Even without memories, that doesn’t matter. We can start anew, from this moment on,” Edmund told her gently.

“Start anew?” Xiao Ai repeated. Still, she yearned for the truth.

“Wen is truly gone. We know you are not her, but to us, we long for you to become part of our family,” Lihua Zhao said quietly.

When they said “gone,” they meant dead, surely. How had Wen died? Again, stabbing pain shot through Xiao Ai’s mind.

She composed herself, realizing she could not probe too deeply—whenever she did, the pain returned. Was there some mysterious connection between herself and Wen? Between herself and—

“Is it really alright? For me to become your family…” Xiao Ai hesitated.

Both doctors nodded solemnly, earnestly clutching her hands and refusing to let go. Xiao Ai was deeply moved, though the truth she sought still felt distant.

Then, suddenly, the world before her eyes began to ripple like water, growing surreal and insubstantial. She saw Dr. Edmund and Dr. Zhao’s lips moving, but their voices could not reach her; they seemed like wavering images on a screen.

Then, as if someone had pressed pause on a film, the picture froze. The world was utterly silent—even a lock of hair falling toward the floor hung suspended in midair, as if time itself had stopped.

Only Xiao Ai could still move. Then, beside her ear, came a strange “click-clack” sound, like the grinding of mechanical gears…

It was a sound she remembered well—she had heard it before, under hypnosis. Before her, the frozen picture began to break apart, like a jigsaw puzzle coming undone, revealing a darkness behind—a vast, empty void. Terrified, she realized what she had long suspected: this was not reality.

The “click-clack” grew louder. Behind her, a titanic, gear-laden machine loomed, advancing relentlessly, its structure mutating and expanding, growing ever more intricate, reshaping itself again and again until it filled the entire darkness, swallowing everything in Xiao Ai’s field of vision. She was engulfed, trapped in a sealed chamber, yet a voice managed to penetrate the mechanical shell—

From all directions, a three-dimensional voice echoed: “By now, you must realize this place is not real. If you wish to wake, you must follow my instructions.”

She had heard this man’s voice before, but could not recall who he was.

“Don’t hesitate—wake up! Return to your reality. I am here to rescue you.”

“Who are you? And who am I?” Xiao Ai demanded.

“There’s no time for questions. Wake up and you will know.”

“What must I do?”

“Only one person can pass through the path to awakening.”

“What do you mean?”

“You and Xiaoya Shen—only one of you can wake.”

“What happened to Xiaoya? Why is she involved?”

“I can only tell you this: she does not wish to return to life. Why not take her place? You need this chance more. Don’t waste any more time. You must act quickly!”

“What does it mean, she doesn’t want to live? What are you saying?” Xiao Ai pressed, lifting her head.

“I can’t explain further—there isn’t enough time. I must now insert the implant code.”

“What code? Where am I? Who am I?” she cried.

“The code is meant for—” The voice was abruptly cut off, silenced at the crucial moment.

Suddenly, the massive machine lurched and shifted. Ahead, a point of light appeared, growing and stretching into what looked like a tunnel. After a moment’s hesitation, Xiao Ai followed the path of light.

The passage was long, its end nowhere in sight. Along its sides, projections flickered—like scenes from a movie, memories played out in reverse. They were recollections of everything that had happened since she met Xiaoya Shen. If she continued forward, perhaps she could see memories from before their meeting. Would she finally learn how she had lost her memory? Was the truth waiting for her just ahead? Driven by urgency, she rushed onward, faster and faster…

“You’re going the wrong way! Come back! Do you hear me?” The voice returned, and at last she recognized it—it was him! The man who claimed to be Edmund Ai’s business partner—Horlen.

Who was he? Xiao Ai wanted her memories back, but this man refused to reveal anything. He was not truly present here; he must be in the real world, outside. He seemed determined to control this place, to force Xiao Ai to choose as he wished.

No, she would not let herself be manipulated. She needed to find her own way, to discover where she had come from—only then could she choose her future path. Resolute, Xiao Ai ignored Horlen’s words and pressed on. The pendant at her throat began to glow, the crystal stone flashing like a beacon, guiding her forward.