Zhou Yunchen was lying on the operating table, his throat tight due to the smell of disinfectant. The memory chip that Dr. Shen Lu was about to implant was the complete memory of a talented painter. Three months ago, he saw an advertisement online. He was so poor that he gritted his teeth and borrowed a loan shark. As soon as the anesthesia was introduced, my heart rate skyrocketed, and the siren stung my eardrums. Electric shock, resuscitation, and blood pressure rose. When I woke up, there was a tube in my throat and my head was buzzing. Shen Lu stood beside the bed, looking wrong. He tried to remember who he was, but found that there was a stranger's voice in his mind
