My head hurts so much it feels like it's going to explode.
When Situ Yuxin opened her eyes, they were filled with gray. Gray ceiling, gray walls, gray dust all over. She was lying among a pile of broken bricks and rotten wood, her left arm was numb from the pressure, and she was holding something hard in her right hand.
It's a nameplate.
She turned over and took a look, and her pupils suddenly narrowed.
"Chen Zhiqiang, 1987-2024."
