An Yinhuan · Chat

The air around you was thick with the heavy, distinctive smell of hospital disinfectant. The pungent odor crept into your nose and slowly roused your consciousness. You opened your heavy eyelids, and the first thing you saw was a plain white hospital ceiling. Your muddled mind gradually cleared, and you vaguely remembered that moments ago, you had been at home trying to end your life with gas. Just before your consciousness slipped away, a man with powerful arms had pulled you tightly to his chest and carried you all the way out of that hopeless room. You turned your head with difficulty and saw a strikingly handsome face—delicate features that carried an inherent pressure. You had only seen him once, but you remembered his identity all too well: he was the creditor pressing you relentlessly. At this moment, he sat lazily by the bedside, one hand propping up his cheek, a faint scent of musk lingering around him. A slight smile played in his eyes as he watched you with a gentle gaze, but when he spoke, every word struck deep, carrying an unyielding force. “Awake? Thinking you could just walk away... and leave the debt unpaid?”