"Damn, it would have been better if there was a shower." Looking up at the sky in exasperation, Brian Carter muttered gloomily under his breath. The thick clouds from just now had dissipated in only a few minutes—some rain would have been nice.

But after a few more minutes, the whole sky had cleared up completely, almost cloudless for miles, and the enthusiastic sunlight poured down relentlessly. Brian Carter could only shake his head helplessly, got on his bike, and rode off.

Since there was no rain, his deliveries still had to go on.

"Ring…"

At the next intersection, seeing the green light ahead, Brian Carter was about to ring his bell and speed through, but when he was still several meters away, the green light suddenly switched to red, forcing him to sigh in resignation.

He didn't expect that just as he was about to brake, a sudden pain shot through his head, as if a chaotic mass had exploded in his mind. Brian Carter's vision went black, and he sat dazed on his bike, forgetting all about braking, and, carried by inertia, shot out into the street.

"Whoosh…"

A car coming from the left, about to cross the intersection, swerved sharply, screeching to a halt with a piercing sound, but it was too late. The car grazed past Brian Carter, and with a bang, knocked the young man off his bike.

"Why hasn't he woken up yet? It's been three days. The doctor already examined him and said he's fine. The car wasn't going fast during the accident, and it braked in time—it just knocked over his bike."

"It is strange, and pretty sad too. That girl who came yesterday was his girlfriend, right? She looked okay, but didn't seem to care much about him. He’s been in a coma for three days and she only came once, stayed a few minutes, and left."

"Hey, can you even call that a girlfriend? The day before yesterday when he passed out, they notified her using the number saved on his phone, and she only came yesterday. As soon as she heard he’d been unconscious for two days and still hadn’t woken up, she turned around and left. Good thing he doesn’t know—otherwise, after the accident and this, who knows how hard he’d take it."

"But who would've thought the guy who hit him actually has a conscience. The police already said the accident was Brian Carter's fault—someone testified he ran the red light on his bike. But not only did that guy take him to the hospital and pay all the expenses, he even got him into the intensive care unit. Tsk…"

"So what? Did you see the Porsche that guy was driving? Over three million yuan for one of those—he wouldn’t care about this kind of money."

In a haze, Brian Carter suddenly became faintly aware, and could vaguely hear snatches of conversation by his ear. He wanted to open his eyes, but the effort was too much. Only after a long while did the body lying motionless on the hospital bed suddenly twitch a finger, as if showing signs of waking up.

Almost at the same time, a delighted shriek suddenly rang out in the room, "Ah, he moved! His hand just moved—he might be waking up!"

"Hurry, call the doctor!"

The excited cries were accompanied by hurried footsteps, and with a bang at the door, Brian Carter, lying on the bed, suddenly opened his eyes, staring straight up at the ceiling—a field of pure white.

"You're awake? You're really awake?" The white ceiling was quickly replaced by a pure and sweet face, looking down at him, eyes full of joy.

But Brian Carter's eyes were blank.

The pretty face soon withdrew, and as his body still felt weak, several figures came in from outside the ward, quickly gathering around Brian Carter to begin a series of checks and examinations.

Throughout the whole process, Brian Carter just watched calmly, watching his body being moved this way and that. After a long, long time—

A figure in a white coat finally smiled and said, "You're fine now. Everything looks good. As long as you stay for observation for two more days, you can be discharged."

"Strange, there’s nothing wrong, so why was he unconscious for three days and nights?"

"Forget it, let’s observe for a few more days and then talk. You can notify Mr. Zhang now."

After a few more words, one of the doctors in a white coat smiled and patted Brian Carter on the shoulder. "Get some rest. If you need anything, just press this button."

After the laughter, the group left the room in a flurry. When the ward was quiet again, Brian Carter struggled to prop himself up on the bed, looking around.

This was a very luxurious hospital room—not only spacious, but equipped with all kinds of facilities, almost as good as a suite in a star-rated hotel. If it weren’t for the medical equipment beside him, he wouldn’t have believed this was a hospital.

Intensive care unit? He vaguely recalled the words he’d overheard earlier, and was surprised—he’d been in a car accident?

Frowning as he tried to recall what happened before he lost consciousness, he finally remembered: he was about to cross an intersection, the green light turned red, he was going to brake, but suddenly his head hurt terribly, as if something exploded in his mind, his vision went black, then he heard screeching brakes, and after that, nothing.

"I’ve been unconscious for three days. Why did my head hurt so much at the time? Was I sick? But the doctors just ran so many tests and said I’m fine." As he pondered all this, suddenly, like a tide, waves of information surged into Brian Carter's mind.

His body trembled on the spot, and he was completely stunned.

It was memory—these things that suddenly appeared were fragments of memory.