Zhou Xing opened his eyes suddenly.
It's not a laboratory, it's not a hospital, it's not a paradise - if there really is a paradise, it shouldn't be so shabby, right?
Above the head is a yellowed ceiling, the walls are peeling off like a snake shedding its skin, and there are spider webs hanging in the corners. The bed beneath me creaked, and the springs were almost poking through the mattress. Outside the window came the sound of electric car horns, the shouts of vendors, and the dialect curses of the couple next door arguing: "You damn ghost, you spilled instant noodle soup on my keyboard again!"
