Volume 1: Lancheng Wind and Clouds 002 Mysterious Hands

  Lanzhou City, located in a remote area of northern China, was just an inconspicuous small town called Lanzhou Town a few years ago.

  However, due to urban development and construction, Lanzhen became a railway transportation hub for several major cities, and was gradually transformed into a county-level city by the government, named Lancheng City, commonly known as Lancity.

  Lanzhou City First People's Hospital.

  It is the only public hospital in Lanzhou City at present. The conditions and equipment are relatively simple compared to those of modern city hospitals.

  The warm sunshine of the afternoon shines all over the land, in this small town where life is slow-paced, making people even more lazy and unwilling to move. The old man guarding the iron gate at the hospital entrance scratches his back with a scratch stick in one hand, while holding a fan in the other hand to cool himself down.

  In the past, people pushed bicycles in and out of the hospital. Occasionally, a sedan would drive by, causing everyone to turn their heads. In such a small city, only those with some family wealth could afford to own a car.

  The hospital ward was an eight-person room, a large empty house with eight white beds, sky blue curtains. In the afternoon, nurses sprinkled disinfectant on the corridor, and the smell wafted into the room in waves, then drifted out through the open windows.

  Near the window, a thin figure sat quietly on the bed, holding a copy of the Liaodong Daily and reading it intently.

  That quick glance, provoked a woman in the next bed to laugh and say, "Little girl, do you understand?"

  The small figure slowly raised its head, revealing a pale and thin but still beautiful face. Her lips curled up in a lazy smile, which was her response to the person.

  She is Mo Zihan.

  Just then, a heavier footstep came into the ward, Mo Ziheng knew it was her mother.

  She lifted her head and saw a stout woman carrying a food box walking towards her bedside. The woman was taken aback by the newspaper in Mo Zihans hand, then smiled and said, "This kid, can you understand it?"

  Mo Zihan smiled and put down the newspaper on the bedside table, but when facing the woman, he didn't know what to call her.

  Mom, she somehow can't bring herself to say it out loud, doesn't know why, seems to be extremely unfamiliar with this title from the bottom of her heart.

  She knew that this body was not hers, she knew that such a life was not her own, although she couldn't recall any memories of herself, but she clearly knew this point.

  There was a moment when she almost believed what the doctor said, wondering if she had delusions of grandeur? Was that why she firmly believed she was someone else?

  But when she could easily read some international comments on the newspaper and some English labels, she once again confirmed that this was not her own body.

  According to the mother, Mo Zihang was originally very stupid. In the second year of junior high school, his grades were always among the last in the class. Not to mention English, even the English alphabet might not be able to recite smoothly.

  "Zi Han, does it still hurt? Your father's temper is too violent. Come, Mom brought you some rice porridge, eat it while it's hot!" The woman said gently as she stirred the thin porridge with a spoon.

  Her mother, Wang Fengying, was a worker in a textile factory. The textile factory was not state-owned but a private enterprise with an office environment of only over 100 square meters. A group of workers were crowded together, each operating a loom from morning till night, working all year round without rest.

  It's also during lunch break time now, bringing lunch to Mo Zihan, and this porridge with salted vegetables is the meal provided by Wang Fengying's unit today.

  Today is the second day she was sent to the hospital, and some information was also learned from her mother's mouth. Fortunately, Mo Zihan performed very calmly and obediently, which made Wang Fengying feel more at ease after learning that her daughter had been diagnosed with amnesia.

  Just then, another heavy but slightly steady footsteps slowly stepped into the ward. Mo Zihan could tell from the sound of the footsteps that it was her uncle who had come.

  This time, she was hospitalized because her uncle Mo Junrong's son falsely accused her of stealing money, causing her father to beat her violently in a fit of rage. She has now been diagnosed with multiple soft tissue bruises, mild concussion and minor elbow fracture.

  Even so, Mo Ziheng, who was hospitalized for treatment, did not make a sound, which made the doctors somewhat surprised.

  Mo Junqiang came yesterday and left after a brief visit, perhaps because he heard that Mo Zihan was hospitalized and felt uneasy in his heart.

  But today I came with my son, is everything clear? Mo Zihan pulled the corner of his mouth.

  Mo Junqiang's son was named Mo Duan. This Mo Duan made Mo Ziheng realize what it meant to be a spoiled young master who had been pampered since birth.

  As soon as they entered the ward, Mo Duan curled his lip and gave Mo Zihan a sideways glance. "Nothing's wrong with you, is there? Do you need to make such a big fuss? You're not going to die right away."

  Wang Fengying looked at Mo Duan with an unpleasant expression, "You child, how can you speak like this?"

  "It's nothing." Mo Duan covered his nose and walked to the windowsill, clearly having been annoyed by the smell of disinfectant since entering the hospital.

  Mo Jun glared at his son, "How many times have I told you not to argue with others casually, it's a loss of face!"

  Mo Duan took a few deep breaths of fresh air, no longer speaking. He knew this was his old man's catchphrase. Ever since he made some money from the computer business, he always hung his worth on his lips. But Mo Duan thought to himself that his dad was just a nouveau riche.

  Wang Fengying handed the slightly cooled porridge to her daughter, ignoring them. Her own daughter was hospitalized because of their father and son, how could she not have some resentment in her heart.

  "How are you, Zihan? Are you feeling better?" Mo Jun walked over to the bedside in his clean leather shoes, picked up a disposable paper cup from the cabinet, and bent down to look for the water bottle, but his eyes glanced sideways at Mo Zihan.

  "It's much better." Mo Zihan's voice was a little hoarse from crying out in pain during the beating.

  Mo Jun nodded slightly, this child was indeed wronged, things have been clarified, the money his son lost was actually at home, and the money in Zi Han's hand was indeed her own savings, now how to explain?

  While calculating in his mind, Mo Junrong picked up the kettle and poured water into the paper cup in his hand. Unexpectedly, the water in the kettle was just boiled hot water, which scalded him when it was poured into the paper cup!

  "Ah!" Mo Jun strongly threw away the paper cup, and it fell upside down towards the bedside.

  Mo Zihan's eyes were fixed, her hands moved swiftly to grasp the paper cup, and with a elegant gesture, she rotated it half a circle in front of her. The water inside the cup came down smoothly and steadily, without spilling a single drop.

  Mo Zihan's eyes flashed with a hint of surprise, looking at the left hand holding the paper cup, the calm and confident moment just now, and his own movements, why were they so familiar?