I’m I dead…

Zheng Fan thought he should already be dead.

However, moisture, warmth, and long-lost heat slowly roamed over his body.

At first, this feeling was only faint and slight, difficult to capture, but gradually, the sensory stimulation began to become clearer and clearer.

Was this the feeling of being dead?

It seemed

not so unacceptable;

even

a little comfortable.

The input of nerves was like a dry canal being reintroduced with running water, from moisturizing cracked soil to wetting and finally to water storage, a gradual process.

With the unfolding of all this, Zheng Fan's perception of the outside world began to become more and more sensitive.

He could feel his hands, his feet, and the warm liquid dripping from his chest.

A strange thought began to emerge from his consciousness.

Zheng Fan began to wonder

if he

was really dead?

No one knows what it's like after death, even though the studio's partners had created many horror stories about ghosts, but they were just fantasies after all.

In the end, the dead can't write a few hundred words of experience like elementary school students and send it back.

Zheng Fan began to try to do something. The first thing he did was to open his eyes.

At this time, he had the feeling of the Foolish Old Man moving mountains. On one hand, the perception of various parts of his body was rapidly recovering, and on the other hand, no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't open his eyes.

It was like being in a state of sleep paralysis, wanting to resist, but only being left with futile struggles.

"Clang!"

A sound came,

followed by a wave of heat splashing on his face.

Under this stimulation, Zheng Fan finally opened his eyes.

At first, his vision was blurred. He could perceive some light, but he couldn't form an image.

Then, a shadow attacked, constantly wiping his face and blocking his vision again and again.

It was like a person who had just woken up washing his face with a hot towel, which could indeed bring a period of refreshment.

Zheng Fan's vision began to become clearer and clearer.

First, he saw a face, the face of a girl about fourteen or fifteen years old.

The girl was wearing a simple long dress, holding a copper washbasin in one hand and a towel in the other, looking at him with a look of trepidation.

So,

he was awakened by this girl accidentally splashing a basin of hot water on him?

And the warmth and comfort he had felt before was her wiping his body?

The girl was very frightened because her negligence had splashed a basin of hot water on this noble person, and this noble person was the one her mother had repeatedly told her to take good care of.

For the past six months, her job had been to serve him, even though he had been unconscious and had not woken up, but she had not dared to slack off in the slightest. The most obvious evidence was that this man had been bedridden for half a year, and he didn't even have a bedsore.

Only those who have truly taken care of bedridden patients know how much effort it takes to prevent bedsores.

But the girl didn't complain at all, and she was very grateful for this job.

In other words, this man was her life. If she made any mistakes, according to her mother's temper, she would probably kick her directly into the red tent in the brothel to receive those smelly customers.

Her mother's temper was not good, and very bad.

If her mother knew about her mistake and found the bed was wet, she...

The girl's trance didn't last long, because she suddenly found that the man's eyes were actually open!

The girl blinked,

Zheng Fan blinked,

4. 5 seconds of silence,

"Ah!!!"

The girl let out a scream.

The scream made Zheng Fan's head twitch, almost knocking him unconscious again. It was a pity that this girl didn't train as a soprano.

"Mom, he's awake, he's awake!!!"

The girl turned around, shouting loudly as she ran out of the room.

The room was finally quiet, leaving only Zheng Fan alone.

Zheng Fan tried to move his hands and feet. At first, he felt a little numb, but soon he found a support point and got up from the bed with some difficulty, supporting himself with his hands and getting off the bed.

His legs were a little weak, but fortunately, he had prepared in advance and maintained his balance so he didn't fall directly to the ground.

In this way, he panted for a while before releasing his hands again, letting himself stand completely on the ground, but his back was a little bent, his center of gravity was slightly squatting, and he was still carefully maintaining stability.

The whole process was a bit like a newborn baby learning to walk again. This body seemed a little too weak, and he was already sweating profusely.

At this point, Zheng Fan had the mind to look around the room. It was a wooden structure, a bit old, and the furnishings in the room were also very retro. There was a dressing table in the corner with a bronze mirror on it.

"Where am I…"

Based on the layout of the room he was in, if he ruled out the absurd possibility that he was now being sent to the Hengdian Affiliated Hospital,

he had

transmigrated?

As a creator, Zheng Fan was naturally no stranger to the word "transmigration," but he really didn't expect it to happen to him.

He staggered to the dressing table and looked at the bronze mirror.

Almost everyone has heard of bronze mirrors, but not many people have actually seen and used them, after all, they have been eliminated for many years, but when Zheng Fan stood in front of the mirror, he was also slightly surprised by the effect of the bronze mirror.

Although it was definitely not as good as the glass mirrors of later generations, it was much better than he had imagined.

Zheng Fan looked in the mirror and touched his face. The face in the mirror was his own. Well, it seemed that it wasn't a soul transmigration…

Moreover, the face in the mirror was somewhat different from when he died. Before his euthanasia, he had become skin and bones due to the torment of the disease, but now, there seemed to be more flesh on his face, although he was still a little thin and pale, but it was already within the acceptable range for a normal person.

Looking down, Zheng Qiang noticed that he was naked, not even wearing a top.

It was just that when he woke up earlier, he really didn't notice it for a while.

When a person doesn't have any clothes on, they tend to feel insecure, especially in this unfamiliar environment, this unease is even stronger.

Now that he thought about it, the girl was wiping his body?

What Zheng Fan didn't know was that the girl had been helping him wipe his body almost every day for the past six months.

Or the girl accidentally splashed a basin of water on his face.

To the right of the dressing table, there was a chair with a set of clothes on it.

These clothes were very familiar, a set of hoodies, mainly black, mixed with some dark red. At the same time, there were also a pair of boots under the chair.

These were the clothes Zheng Fan was wearing when he committed suicide. He liked this style of clothing. He had designed and customized many sets because he felt that hoodies could bring him a sense of security, especially when he put down the hood to cover most of his face, it could give him the peace he needed.

He put on the clothes and boots with some difficulty. Zheng Fan was already so tired that he could only sit on the chair and lean against the dressing table, panting non-stop. His body, which had just woken up, was indeed too weak, but no matter what, it was much better than his sick body when he committed suicide. At least, after this body rested and recuperated for a period of time, it should be able to recover a lot.

At this moment, Zheng Fan suddenly noticed a figure appearing at the door. He was still panting and immediately looked up.

In an instant

Zheng Fan was struck by lightning

Standing at the door of the room was a woman, about thirty-five or six years old, wearing a blue long dress, a phoenix hairpin in her hair, red lips, and naturally charming eyes. This was a charming age, and this woman had an elegant temperament and a well-proportioned figure.

Of course, no matter how beautiful or sexy this woman was, it was not the point, nor was it enough to surprise Zheng Fan like this. What really shocked Zheng Fan was that

he

knew this woman

Moreover

he had personally drawn this woman

"Feng… Feng Si Niang?"

Zheng Fan felt like he was dreaming. Could it be that once a person dies, they enter an endless dream?

In that case, it seems that death is no longer a terrible thing, but a liberation to pursue freedom.

The woman looked at Zheng Fan standing in front of her

her mouth was slightly open, and there was a sparkle in her eyes. For a moment, her red lips were slightly open in a smile, and her tears were falling in a cry, already extremely失态.

In the end

the woman simply put her hands in front of her abdomen, bent her knees

and sobbed

"Master, you're finally awake!"