Xiao Zheng tightly clenched his own hand, his eyes filled with confusion. Every time he tried to recall the past, his head felt as though it might explode, becoming unbearable. All he wanted now was to know who he was.
"...Xiao... Zheng!" After a painful struggle, these two words surfaced in his mind. Could this be his name?
Xiao Zheng was striving to remember, but his head was already throbbing with pain, a violent tearing sensation in his mind, as if it would rip him apart. Eventually, Xiao Zheng had to stop thinking and wiped the cold sweat from his forehead.
The girl and boy nearby also heard Xiao Zheng's murmur. The boy shook his head slightly and said slowly, "Your name is Xiao Zheng? That's a pretty name. No need to rush; your memory will surely come back gradually."
The mute girl cupped her chin with both hands, staring blankly at the man.
