Bright Sword: This unit is really ruthless

The doctor nodded and helped him untie his hospital gown.

When Zhang Ling saw the wound on his chest, he was completely stunned. There should have been a hideous bullet hole, but now there was only a shallow scar, which was almost invisible.

This further confirmed his suspicion.

"It seems that I really have traveled through time..." Zhang Ling muttered to himself.

At this time, the door of the ward was pushed open and a young and beautiful nurse walked in.

"Mr. Zhang, your family is here to see you." The nurse said with a smile.

Family? Zhang Ling has no family in this era.

He looked towards the door in confusion, and saw a middle-aged man in a suit and tie with an extraordinary demeanor walked in, followed by a young woman who was dressed fashionably and had an elegant temperament.

"Ling'er, you finally woke up!" The middle-aged man walked to the bed excitedly and held Zhang Ling's hand tightly.

Zhang Ling stared at him blankly, and suddenly some unfamiliar images flashed through his mind. Luxury cars, villas, banquets...

"Dad...Mom..." he called tentatively.

"Hey!" The middle-aged man and the young woman answered in unison, their eyes full of care and joy.

Zhang Ling was completely stunned. Not only did he travel through time and space, he also had a new identity and a new family.

What exactly is going on?

The pungent smell of disinfectant penetrated Zhang Ling's nose. He coughed violently several times, and his throat felt as rough as if it had been polished by sandpaper. The white ceiling, the pale walls, and the transparent liquid in the infusion bottle were being injected into his blood vessels drop by drop. Everything was strange and familiar. He remembered the pain of the bullet piercing his chest on the battlefield, Xiaoya's horrified eyes and Lao Zhao's desperate roar, and then... nothing happened.

"I... am still alive?" Zhang Ling uttered with difficulty, blood oozing from his cracked lips.

A doctor in a white coat came over, adjusted his glasses, and said calmly, "Are you awake? How do you feel?"

"Where...is this?" Zhang Ling tried hard to recall, but found his mind was in a mess and his memory of this place was completely blank.

"This is the City Center Hospital. You were in a car accident and have been in a coma for three days." The doctor explained, picking up a stethoscope and beginning to check Zhang Ling's physical condition.

Car accident? Zhang Ling was even more confused. He clearly remembered that he was shot and killed on the battlefield. How could it be a car accident? Could it be... all this was just a dream?

After the examination, the doctor said, "You are recovering well. You can be discharged after a few more days of observation."

Zhang Ling lay on the bed blankly, his mind racing. He tried to recall every detail of the battlefield, Xiaoya's face, Lao Zhao's beard, Yamamoto Ikki's cold smile, and the artillery fire all over the mountains. Everything was so clear and real, it didn't seem like a dream.

"Doctor, I want...I want to see my wound." Zhang Ling hesitated for a moment, but still expressed his doubts.

The doctor was stunned for a moment, then said: "Your wound has been treated, there is nothing to see."

"No, I want to take a look." Zhang Ling insisted.

The doctor couldn't persuade him, so he had to lift up his hospital gown. Zhang Ling's chest was wrapped in thick bandages, and no wounds could be seen.

"Doctor, what about my...gunshot wound?" Zhang Ling asked tremblingly.

The doctor frowned and said, "What gunshot wound? You just have broken ribs, no gunshot wound."

Zhang Ling was completely confused. No gunshot wound? Was the feeling of being shot in the chest an illusion? He sat up suddenly and tore off the bandage on his chest. On his smooth skin, there were only a few scratches and no trace of bullet holes.

"This...how is this possible?" Zhang Ling muttered to himself, his eyes empty, as if he had lost his soul.

Seeing this, the doctor thought he was stimulated and comforted him: "Don't be excited, take a good rest, and wait until you feel better before you deal with anything else."

Zhang Ling ignored the doctor's words. The scenes on the battlefield kept flashing in his mind. The huge contrast with reality made him feel extremely confused and frightened. Who was he? Was he Zhang Ling, a soldier on the anti-Japanese battlefield, or a car accident patient in this world?

Just then, the door of the ward was pushed open, and a young and beautiful girl walked in with a basket of fruit in her hand.

"Brother Ling, you're awake!" the girl exclaimed in surprise when she saw Zhang Ling.

Zhang Ling stared at the girl blankly. The unfamiliar face and the unfamiliar name made him even more confused.

"You are......"

"I'm your girlfriend, Brother Ling, don't you remember me?" the girl asked worriedly.

Girlfriend? Zhang Ling's heart suddenly sank, and he subconsciously thought of Xiaoya. Xiaoya was still in that war-torn era, waiting for him to return. But he, in this strange world, had a strange girlfriend.

He took a deep breath and tried to calm himself down. He knew that now was not the time to be sad and confused. He had to figure out what was going on. He looked at the girl, forced a smile, and said, "I... I seem to have lost my memory. I don't remember a lot of things."

A trace of heartache flashed in the girl's eyes. She walked to the bedside, gently held Zhang Ling's hand, and said softly: "It's okay, Brother Ling, think about it slowly, I will always be with you."

Zhang Ling looked at the girl's gentle eyes, feeling mixed emotions. He didn't know how to face this strange world, nor how to face this strange "girlfriend".

At this moment, the news broadcast came from the TV: "Recently, archaeologists discovered an ancient tomb in the Qinglong Mountain area. According to preliminary research, the age of this tomb can be traced back to the Anti-Japanese War period..."

Zhang Ling suddenly raised his head and stared at the TV screen. Qinglong Mountain...isn't that the place where he fought?

On the TV screen, archaeologists were cleaning cultural relics from a tomb, and a blood-stained military uniform suddenly appeared in the camera.

Zhang Ling recognized the military uniform at a glance. It was... his own military uniform!

He stood up suddenly, pointed at the TV screen, and said in a trembling voice: "That...that's mine..."

At this time, the scene switched to a tombstone in the cemetery, on which were engraved a few clear words: Tomb of Zhang Ling.

The pungent smell of disinfectant penetrated Zhang Ling's nose, causing him to frown. The white ceiling, white sheets, white walls, everything was so white that he couldn't tell where he was. He tried to move, but found that his whole body was sore, as if he had been run over by a truck.

"Are you awake?" A gentle female voice sounded in his ears.

Zhang Ling turned his head with difficulty and saw a young nurse in a white coat standing beside his bed, looking at him with concern.

"Where...is this?" Zhang Ling's voice was hoarse and weak.

"Hospital," the nurse said with a smile, "You've been in a coma for three days."

Three days? Zhang Ling tried hard to recall what happened before he fell into a coma. The sound of gunfire, the blood, Xiaoya's desperate cry... Was all this just a dream?

"I... I'm still alive?" Zhang Ling couldn't believe it.

The nurse nodded and said, "You are lucky. The bullet only grazed your lung and did not hurt any vital parts."

Lucky? Zhang Ling smiled bitterly. He would rather die than let Xiaoya fall into Yamamoto Ikki's hands.

"Xiaoya...how is she?" Zhang Ling asked anxiously.

The nurse's smile disappeared, she hesitated, and said, "I'm sorry, I don't know what you're talking about."

Zhang Ling's heart sank suddenly, and an ominous premonition came over him. He struggled to sit up, but was held down by the nurse.

"The doctor said that you need to rest now and not move around."

"No, I want to go find her!" Zhang Ling ignored the nurse's objection and forced himself to sit up. A violent coughing made his eyes go dark and he almost fainted again.

"Don't get excited," the nurse quickly supported him, "You are very weak now, you need to rest well."

"Tell me, where is Xiaoya?" Zhang Ling grabbed the nurse's hand, his eyes full of anxiety and uneasiness.

The nurse was frightened by the despair in his eyes. She stammered, "I...I really don't know..."

Zhang Ling fell back on the bed dejectedly. He knew that Xiaoya must have been in trouble. He closed his eyes and let the tears fall silently. He hated himself for not protecting her.

"Yamamoto Ikki...I will definitely kill you!" Zhang Ling said gritting his teeth, his voice filled with deep hatred.

In the following days, Zhang Ling's body gradually recovered, but the pain in his heart became deeper and deeper. Every day he pestered the doctors and nurses to ask about Xiaoya's whereabouts, but the answer he got was the same: I don't know.

One night, Zhang Ling lay in bed, tossing and turning, unable to fall asleep. Xiaoya's figure kept appearing in his mind, her smile, her crying, her desperate eyes...

Suddenly, he heard a burst of footsteps outside the ward. He sat up alertly and listened carefully.

The footsteps got closer and closer, and finally stopped at the door of his ward.

"Who?" Zhang Ling asked in a low voice.

The door opened gently and a dark figure flashed in.

In the dim light, Zhang Ling couldn't see the face of the person coming, but could only vaguely see a tall figure. He subconsciously reached under the pillow, but found nothing. Damn, his gun was confiscated.

"Don't be nervous, Zhang Ling," the shadow's deep voice carried a hint of laughter, but it made Zhang Ling feel creepy, "It's me."

As the shadow approached, moonlight shone through the gaps in the curtains, illuminating that familiar yet hateful face - Yamamoto Ikki.

Zhang Ling's pupils suddenly contracted, and a raging fire burned in his chest. "It's you! You beast! Where's Xiaoya? What did you do to her?"

Yamamoto Ikki walked to the bedside, looked down at Zhang Ling, and a cruel smile appeared on the corner of his mouth. "Don't worry, your little lover is fine now, but..." He paused deliberately, looking at the despair gradually emerging on Zhang Ling's face, his heart was filled with perverted pleasure, "She is mine now."

"You!" Zhang Ling roared and pounced towards Yamamoto Ikki, but was easily dodged by the other party.

"Don't waste your energy, Zhang Ling," Yamamoto Ikki said with a disdainful smile, "You are like a tiger with its teeth pulled out. You pose no threat to me at all."

Zhang Ling collapsed to the ground powerlessly, his fists clenched tightly, his nails dug deep into his flesh, blood flowing down his fingers. He hated himself, he hated his own incompetence, hated himself for not being able to protect Xiaoya.

"You know, Zhang Ling," Yamamoto Ikki squatted down, leaned close to Zhang Ling's ear, and said in a voice that was almost whispering, "Your little lover is really beautiful, especially her desperate eyes, which really makes people unable to stop..."

Every word Yamamoto Ikki said was like a sharp knife, stabbing Zhang Ling's heart. He felt as if his lungs were about to burst, and a fishy-sweet taste surged in his throat.

"I...want to...kill...you..." Zhang Ling squeezed out a few words from between his teeth, his voice so hoarse that it was almost inaudible.

Yamamoto Ikki laughed, stood up, and patted Zhang Ling's face. "Want to kill me? What can you use to kill me? Just because you look half dead?"

He walked to the door, stopped, looked back at Zhang Ling lying on the ground, and said, "Enjoy your last moments, Zhang Ling. I will let you see with your own eyes how I destroy everything you have."