The lights in the operating room hurt my eyes. Don't be nervous, it will be over soon. The doctor was wearing a mask and his voice was muffled. I stared at the metal patterns on the ceiling. When I counted to the seventeenth line, the anesthetic pushed into my blood vessels. Before I lost consciousness, I heard him say: No. A-7, memory transplant preparation. My name is Qin Lan, I am twenty-four years old and have worked as a technician at Cyber Memory Company for two years. To put it bluntly, this job is to change people's memories. If you want to forget your ex, come here; if you want to experience the life of a rich man, come here; if you want to pretend that you have traveled around the world, come here. The company's business is booming. The operation desk I am responsible for is on the seventeenth floor, and I can see the entire east district's neon signs outside the floor-to-ceiling windows. Red and green lights reflected on the screen, and data flowed down like a waterfall. Sister Qin, the customer information has been sent over. Intern Xiao Zhou handed over the tablet. I glanced at him: male, thirty-five years old, corporate executive, trying to implant a memory of vacationing in the Maldives. Standard package, template number three. I said, go prepare the equipment. Xiao Zhou responded and almost hit the door frame when he ran out. This kid is messy, but he works quickly.
