My head hurts.
It was as if thousands of steel needles had been pierced into my brain, turning everything upside down.
Xie Zhiwei struggled to open his eyes. His vision was blurry at first, and then slowly focused. What came into view were the simple wooden beams, and the air was filled with an indescribable medicinal smell, bitter and mixed with a hint of staleness.
Where is this?
