After an unknown period, Ou Zhanpeng regained consciousness. The scene before his collapse still replayed in his mind. He stared with vacant eyes, unblinking and unmoving.
A pleasant voice sounded in his ear, "You're awake?"
Before him stood a woman in a spacesuit adorned with a red cross. Her face was etched with concern as she looked at Ou Zhanpeng. Her name tag read: Lan Qingyu.
Awake?
His muddled brain finally cleared a little. Ou Zhanpeng sat up abruptly, his forehead thudding against the cabin wall. But he paid no mind to the pain, first touching his forehead, then his body, as if lost in a thick fog—I'm still alive?
Yet, he couldn't recall how he had survived. He fell into deep self-doubt: Could it all have been a nightmare?
The moment this thought crossed his mind, a thunderous boom erupted in his ears, like a jet engine starting up beside him, making him dizzy and nearly causing him to faint. Fortunately, the sound's intensity quickly subsided, becoming barely audible after a short while.
However, before Ou Zhanpeng could relax, the sound rapidly intensified, like a mischievous child turning the television volume to maximum.
Ou Zhanpeng heard mechanical roars, the sound of hurried footsteps, and the voices of many people. A cacophony of noise assaulted his eardrums, as if an elaborate Buddhist ritual were being performed.
He clutched his ears in pain, trying to block out the external sounds. But his own breathing sounded like thunder, his heartbeat like a drum, and his rushing blood like a ceaseless river, making him agitated and helpless.
Lan Qingyu had no idea what was happening. No matter how she asked, Ou Zhanpeng didn't respond, startling her into calling for a medic.
Ou Zhanpeng's ears remained in chaos. The fluctuating intensity persisted for several minutes before finally returning to normal.
He tentatively released his ears and exhaled deeply—finally normal!
Just as he rejoiced in the recovery of his hearing, his vision began to falter. Lan Qingyu's face suddenly zoomed in, unnervingly close, revealing every pore. Then it rapidly retreated until it was a blurry mess.
This back-and-forth continued for a while before his vision also returned to normal.
Once his eyes settled, his nose became the next afflicted sense. Strange odors amplified infinitely, filling his nostrils. Two, in particular, were the most potent: the sour stench of his own body and the delicate fragrance emanating from Lan Qingyu.
Don't ask how he knew; he just did.
Then his taste buds were subjected to a barrage of various flavors, tormenting them repeatedly.
Even his skin joined the mayhem, becoming hypersensitive one moment, as if pricked by needles with the slightest touch, and then utterly numb the next, feeling nothing at all.
His five senses were taking turns!
Ou Zhanpeng decided to give up struggling. Let it do whatever it wanted. He would lie down and let it torment him.
Lan Qingyu was almost driven mad. She merely wanted to measure Ou Zhanpeng's blood pressure. First, he cried out in pain at her touch, and then she couldn't get a reading no matter what. Yet, when she looked up, he was lively and showed no abnormalities.
Despite the chaotic state of his body, Ou Zhanpeng's consciousness remained clear. He had already guessed the truth: the doctors must have used some potent hallucinogenic drug to save him!
After nearly ten minutes of this ordeal, his chaotic senses finally calmed down.
The doctor, who had arrived in a hurry, listened to Lan Qingyu's account and immediately conducted a thorough examination of Ou Zhanpeng. The results were excellent; he was perfectly healthy.
He called Lan Qingyu aside and they discussed quietly for a moment. Finally, he wrote a sentence on the electronic medical record: "Physical health: excellent. Behavior: abnormal. Suspected sequelae of traumatic brain injury."
Ou Zhanpeng's face darkened. Who were they calling crazy? *They* were the crazy ones!
He hadn't noticed that the whispers of these two were barely louder than a mosquito's hum, imperceptible to a normal person. Yet, he had inadvertently heard every word.
The young master Ou immediately unbound himself and rolled off the bed. With a slight push, he shot out, colliding with the opposite bunk.
Damn it! The side effects weren't just on his senses; they were affecting his neural responses entirely!
The doctor and Lan Qingyu turned to look. Ou Zhanpeng gave a sheepish smile and offered an excuse, "It's just too narrow here!"
This wasn't a spacious medical bay but a cramped four-person dormitory, notorious for its tight space. When filled with occupants, the small cabin felt as crowded as a can of sardines, earning it the nickname "Canned Cabin" from the soldiers.
The doctor asked with concern, "How are you feeling?"
"Great!" Ou Zhanpeng flexed his bicep. "Better than ever."
"Then you're discharged," the doctor said.
Ou Zhanpeng nearly threw his back out. Although he hadn't planned to stay, the sudden shift was too abrupt.
Before he could respond, the cabin door opened again, and Ling Xiao drifted in casually. Gripping a handrail on the wall with one hand, he flashed a broad, charming smile, "My heavens, you're finally awake! Do you know you almost croaked?"
Ou Zhanpeng smiled back, touching his healed forehead, "How long did I sleep?"
Details weren't urgent. Since they were both alive, there would be plenty of opportunities later.
"Not long, a little over two days," Ling Xiao said, holding up two fingers and then tilting his head outward. "Let's go, we need to make room for the injured."
Ou Zhanpeng finally understood why the doctor was so eager to have him leave. After exchanging greetings with the doctor and nurse, he followed Ling Xiao out of the cabin.
Seizing the moment when no one was around, he suddenly pointed to his forehead, "Ling Xiao, look here. Is there anything wrong?"
Ling Xiao raised an eyebrow and put on a serious face, "Of course, there is. When was your brain ever normal?"
"Your brain is abnormal!" Ou Zhanpeng was furious. How could this guy be so carefree at a time like this?
However, Ling Xiao's words also conveyed crucial information: there was nothing wrong with his forehead!
But no matter how strong his recovery ability, wounds shouldn't heal this quickly, right?
Having escaped certain death in a desperate situation, yet finding the supposed wounds vanished, Ou Zhanpeng's memory was suddenly cast into doubt. "How's the base?"
Ling Xiao's smile immediately turned into a grimace. "Mostly destroyed. Only about a third of the cabins are still usable. In just two days, we've dropped over 70 kilometers in altitude. They're working on repairs, but I don't know if we can save it."
Ou Zhanpeng quickly pressed, "What about the fleet?"
"The Wuzhou and Haijiang are sunk, and the Polar is heavily damaged."
Ou Zhanpeng blinked in confusion. That was right, exactly as he remembered!
He was completely bewildered. Where had something gone wrong... He suddenly understood, "This is the Polar?"
"Yes, it's the Polar."
"Where are we going?"
"You'll know when you follow me," Ling Xiao said mysteriously.