The time of the city

After leaving the restaurant, Nan Feng drove straight to the suburbs. When the car stopped, a single-family house hidden in the woods came into view. The lush trees around it acted like a natural barrier, completely obscuring the house.

Nan Feng nodded with satisfaction: "Very good. Have you prepared a month's worth of food, water, and spare clothes?"

The person beside him replied respectfully, "Mr. Qiao, everything is prepared as you instructed. The room is also equipped with survival equipment, just in case."

Nan Feng walked into the house, checked it carefully, and waved, "Okay, you guys go. Come pick me up in half a month."

The man nodded. "Mr. Qiao, the doors and windows can only be opened from the outside. We'll pick you up in half a month. There's a call center installed in the room. If you have any questions, call us anytime and we'll come as soon as possible."

"I know, let's go."

After everyone left, Nan Feng heard the sound of a door being locked from outside. With a determined look in his eyes, he walked into the bathroom, poured all the medicine he had on him into the toilet, and watched it flush away.

"I hope what Ni Jiamu said is true and that I can recover my memory."

He had stopped taking his medicine at noon, and it was almost evening, but he hadn't shown any discomfort yet.

He played music and went to the kitchen to cook a bowl of noodles. After eating, he started watching TV again.

After watching the documentary, Nan Feng looked up at the clock. The hour hand pointed to twelve o'clock, but he didn't feel sleepy at all. He rubbed his hair and said, "Strange, could it be because I stopped taking the medicine?"

But Nan Feng didn't think much about it. He turned off the TV, went to take a shower, and lay down on the bed. He put on an eye mask, closed his eyes, and began to fall asleep.

But instead of feeling sleepy, he became more and more awake. He took off his eye mask and glanced at the clock on the bedside table. It was already three o'clock in the morning.

Nan Feng ruffled his hair irritably: "It really is the medicine's problem."

He stayed awake like this until dawn.

Early in the morning, Mo Yu was still sound asleep when she heard a noise downstairs. As if driven by instinct, her mind wasn't fully awake yet, and she quickly jumped out of bed and rushed downstairs.

Ni Jiamu, who was downstairs holding a glass and preparing to pour water, heard footsteps. He subconsciously turned his head and happened to see Mo Yu, who was sleepy and had messy hair.

Mo Yu looked at Ni Jiamu in front of her, her nose instantly sore and her eyes reddened: "Brother, you are finally back!"

She walked quickly to Ni Jiamu and looked him up and down, "Why have you lost so much weight and your complexion looks so bad, are you sick?" As she spoke, she stretched out her hand and was about to touch Ni Jiamu's forehead.

Ni Jiamu seemed to have been electrocuted. He quickly turned his head away, frowning slightly, and said in a cold tone: "Don't touch me without washing your hands. I'm so busy at work that it's normal for me to lose weight. Do you think everyone has as much free time as you?"

Mo Yu's hand froze in mid-air, a hint of disappointment flashed across her face, but she quickly regained her smile: "I'm sorry, brother. You must be hungry. I'll go make you breakfast."

Ni Jiamu nodded slightly, murmured "hmm", and walked towards the stairs: "I still have some work to do, call me when you are done."

After entering the study, he locked the door behind him, leaned against it, covered his chest with both hands, and let out a long breath. He muttered silently in his heart: "Xiaoyu, I'm sorry. I also want you to accompany me to face it, but I'm afraid to see you sad and self-blaming, and I'm even more afraid that I will drag you down. Perhaps, making you hate me is the best choice."

Mo Yu made breakfast and went upstairs to knock on the study door. Ni Jiamu heard the knock and wiped his face vigorously, trying to make himself look more energetic.

When Ni Jiamu came downstairs and saw a table full of delicious breakfast, he felt a surge of warmth in his heart, but his stomach was churning and he had no appetite at all. He endured the discomfort and sat down next to Mo Yu.

"Brother, I have learned how to bake cakes these days. Do you want me to make one for you to try?" Mo Yu smiled proudly at Ni Jiamu.

Ni Jiamu shook his head and said in a flat voice: "I don't like eating cake."

Mo Yu picked up a piece of bread and put it on Ni Jiamu's plate: "Then try this toast, it's the most successful one I've ever made."

Under Mo Yu's gaze, Ni Jiamu picked up the bread and took a bite. He suddenly felt nauseous. His face turned pale. He held on to the table and spit the food in his mouth into the trash can at his feet.

"Brother, what's wrong with you?" Mo Yu panicked and quickly stood up. "I'll take you to the hospital. You look terrible!"

Ni Jiamu pushed Mo Yu's hand away, gritted his teeth, and struggled to stand up. His hands clutched his pants tightly, his body trembling uncontrollably. "What the hell is this thing you made? It's disgusting! And this is the most successful one?"

Mo Yu's hands were suspended in mid-air, and she pursed her lips as tears were about to fall: "Brother, you used to say that my cooking was delicious, why now..."

Ni Jiamu felt dizzy. He supported himself on the table and pretended to be calm: "The previous ones were not tasty either. I just didn't want to discourage you, so I praised you. You have made it so many times, but there is no improvement. Are you really putting your heart into it? Forget it, I won't eat it anymore. I'm going to the company." After that, he covered his stomach and hurried out the door.

After leaving the house, Ni Jiamu's stomachache became more severe. He turned to the flower bed, took a look, and sat down with peace of mind after confirming that Mo Yu would not come out for the time being.

He took out his cell phone and called Ji Lin: "Linzi, come pick me up."

Ni Jiamu leaned against the wall, staring blankly at the flowers in the flowerbed. The once vibrant blossoms were now withered and lifeless.

"Mom, after you left, the flowers didn't grow well, and I wasn't feeling well either..." He covered his mouth and coughed a few times, then looked down and saw blood on his hands.

His body froze instantly, and then trembled even more violently. He quickly took out his handkerchief and kept wiping, "Mom, please bless me to live longer, I still have a lot of things to do..."

Inside the house, Mo Yu shed tears as she stuffed Ni Jiamu's remaining bread into her mouth. "It's not that bad. Why is my brother so mean? Was he also this sad when I treated him like this before?"

After breakfast, she went to the garden and picked up the kettle to water the flowers. Halfway through, she put the kettle down and squatted under the rose tree. "I'm sorry, Mom. I didn't take good care of the flowers. Can you please not let them die? I didn't take good care of my brother either. He works so hard and has lost a lot of weight. You must keep my brother healthy..."

Nan Feng leaned against the head of the bed, rubbed his sore eyes, and glanced at the time. It was already twelve o'clock in the afternoon, but he still had no desire to sleep.

He got up and went into the bathroom to take a hot bath. Unexpectedly, he felt more awake after coming out.

Nan Feng sat on the sofa for a while, and it was already two o'clock in the afternoon.

"I hope I won't be unable to sleep if I don't take the medicine. I hope I won't die suddenly. Forget it, I'll eat first. I want to die with a full stomach."

Nan Feng muttered to himself as he walked into the kitchen and made some food, but before he finished eating he started to feel dizzy.

Nan Feng closed his eyes and lay on the sofa. His mind seemed to be filled with a mess, stirring and stirring until he was dizzy.

"Xiao Feng, Mommy bought you some chocolate and put it in your bag. Mommy is going to pick up Daddy now."

Nan Feng suddenly opened his eyes: "Who was talking just now?"

At this moment, a sharp pain like an electric current pierced his head. He held his head with both hands, slid off the sofa and fell to the ground, curling up into a ball, "Ah, it hurts!"

The piercing ringing in his ears made his body tremble constantly. Soon, his back was soaked with sweat and his clothes stuck to his body.

"Medicine, where is the medicine?" Nan Feng searched around and remembered that he had lost the medicine yesterday. He knelt down with his head on the ground, gasping for breath.

"Brother Nanfeng, don't go!" Another voice sounded in his mind.

"Nan Feng? But my last name is Qiao... Who is talking? It's so noisy!" Nan Feng pounded his head with both hands, trying to make the noise disappear.

"Afeng, you have to stand at the top of the pyramid."

"It's grandpa, grandpa is talking." Nan Feng recognized it as Qiao Zhengrong's voice.

Suddenly, a roar exploded in his mind. Nan Feng screamed loudly, and blurry images kept flashing through his mind, too fast for him to see clearly.

"Ah! It hurts so much, my head is going to explode!" Nan Feng shouted, covering his head.

In desperation, Nan Feng slammed his head against the table. With a dull thud, the voice in his head instantly vanished, his expression gradually calmed, and he passed out.