Ye Yuwen woke up from the pain.
It's not the kind of pain that occurs when your head hits the bedside table while you're asleep, it's the kind of pain that makes your entire body feel as if someone has dismantled it and reassembled it, with a few pieces wrongly installed in the middle of the assembly. He lay on the wet ground, his face buried in a puddle of cool mud, and his nose was filled with sand and a fishy smell of the sea.
"Cough... Cough cough..."
He struggled to turn over, facing up to the sky, and rolled his eyes. What he saw was a sky that was so blue that it looked fake, and a few coconut trees with crooked necks swaying in the wind. My head was buzzing like a swarm of wasps.
Ye Yuwen just lay there and calmed down for three to five minutes, and then the swarm of wasps in his mind finally calmed down. He sat up on the ground and looked down at himself - good guy, the plaid shirt he was wearing was torn into strips, and there was a big hole in his trouser leg. A large piece of skin fell off his knee, and the blood almost covered his leg. The bleeding stopped now, and there was a layer of black and red scabs.
"Where the hell is this?"
