Chapter 74: Prison of Memories

After successfully retrieving the antidote, Lu Chenzhou and Su Wanqing fought their way out of the abandoned pharmaceutical plant. But just as they broke through the encirclement, a stray bullet tore through the night sky and struck Su Wanqing in the abdomen. She gritted her teeth through the pain, handed the sample to Lu Chenzhou, and whispered, "Go... get it to the lab." With that, her body collapsed, swallowed by darkness.

The last thing she remembered was the chaotic lights outside the warehouse. When she opened her eyes again, the world around her had completely changed.

She found herself in a strange, boundless void. The air was thick with the scent of metal, and a steady ticking sound echoed in her ears—like the hands of a giant clock, counting down something unknown. There were no windows, no doors, not even walls. The entire space was shrouded in a surreal stillness, like a prison forged from illusions.

She tried to stand, but her legs felt chained by an invisible weight, rendering her movements sluggish and heavy. Her vision blurred, and a suffocating helplessness seeped through every inch of her body. It was as if her consciousness was dissolving into this place, her connection to reality gradually slipping away.

"What... is this place?" she muttered, a creeping unease taking hold of her chest.

Her thoughts drifted like mist. Suddenly, blinding lights surged around her, and massive screens flickered to life. A sharp buzzing sound cut through the silence, and then—memories.

Images washed over her in a chaotic tide: her parents, her colleagues at the forensic institute, and that familiar face—Lu Chenzhou.

The fragments played on repeat, blurring and breaking apart whenever she tried to focus on them. She reached out, but her fingers only grasped air. The closer she got, the more fragmented the scenes became, as if taunting her.

"Su Wanqing, what do you really want?" a low, indistinct voice echoed from all directions, pressing down on her like a storm cloud.

She spun around—no one. Just the flickering cascade of broken memories, spinning like a shattered carousel.

A creeping dread took root in her heart. This wasn't just a coma. She was being dragged into a fabricated consciousness—a prison built from her own memories. This wasn't a dream. It was deliberate. A trap.

Suddenly, she heard footsteps. A silhouette emerged from the light—Lu Chenzhou.

His face was tense, his brows furrowed, eyes full of worry.

She opened her mouth to call his name, but no sound came out. Her throat was sealed shut, as if even her voice was imprisoned here.

"Wanqing, can you hear me?" his voice echoed through the illusion like a distant call.

Tears welled up in her eyes. She moved toward him, each step as heavy as walking through molasses. But before she could reach him, his figure began to fade.

"Don't be afraid, Wanqing. I will find you," he said again, his voice unwavering, like an anchor in the storm.

"I'm here," she screamed in her mind, even if her voice was no louder than a whisper. She just wanted him to know—she was still alive.

Then—light.

A crack opened in the endless void. And with it, Lu Chenzhou's silhouette was pulled away into the dark.

"No—" she cried, struggling against the pain that tore through her mind. Her body convulsed as the illusion shook. She felt the electric surge rip through her consciousness, like static burning through nerves.

And then, she understood.

This was a mental prison—created by them.

A psychological trap designed to break her from the inside.

"They're trying to destroy me," she hissed, as her memories and pain all resurfaced. "But they won't win."

At that moment, Lu Chenzhou's figure returned—clearer this time, eyes sharp as ever.

"Wanqing," he said, his voice cutting through the illusion like a blade, "you can break free. This isn't real—it's all in your mind."

She looked at him, trembling. "You… you never left?"

"Never," he nodded. "Believe in yourself. Come back."

With tears in her eyes, she took a deep breath and took a step forward.

Then another.

And another.

She reached out her hand—and smashed it against the barrier in front of her with every ounce of strength she had.

The illusion cracked.

The space trembled. The fake memories shattered like glass. The invisible chains fell away, and she felt herself being pulled back—toward light, toward warmth.

"I will not be your puppet," she whispered into the void.

A blinding white flash consumed everything.

And then—reality.

Su Wanqing's eyes flew open.

A sterile hospital ceiling came into view, fluorescent lights blinking above her. The beeping of machines surrounded her, grounding her. And at her bedside—a figure she knew better than anyone.

"You're awake," Lu Chenzhou said hoarsely, gripping her hand tightly.

She turned her head slowly, locking eyes with his—eyes filled with worry, exhaustion, and a desperate kind of relief. A soft smile tugged at her lips.

"Thank you… for staying."

"I promised you," he said quietly. "No matter what happens—I'll never let go."

Her eyes grew resolute. Though the illusion was broken, the real battle had only just begun.