In a daze, Wang Ge dread of the past again.
"Can I go out and play?"
Little Wang Ge beca a five or six-year-old child, staring eagerly at the world outside the window.
Little Wang Ge was thin and frail, his body extrely delicate.
His delicate features were as exquisite as a young boy stepping out of an ani.
His fair skin was like that of a porcelain doll, his eyes staring unblinkingly outside the window.
It had just rained outside, and a cute white puppy happened to be bouncing around outside the window.
The chubby body rolled back and forth on the ground, occasionally nibbling at the tender green grass.
Little Wang Ge watched the puppy outside with envy, wishing he could be that puppy, able to roll around outside.
"Once you’re better, you can go out and play."
An elderly man in a white coat looked at little Wang Ge kindly, reaching out with aged fingers to touch Wang Ge’s head.
Little Wang Ge’s head was wrapped in thick gauze, with blood seeping out from within that looked horrifying.
His small head was wrapped in circle after circle of white gauze, seeming too overwhelming.
Little Wang Ge instinctively stepped back when he saw the old fingers approach.
"Dad, can’t we not cut my head open? It hurts."
Tears welled up in little Wang Ge’s eyes, about to fall like clear pearls at any mont.
"Alright, no more cutting, your illness is cured, and in ten years, you’ll be the most amazing person in the world!"
Dean Wang looked at little Wang Ge’s head with a hint of madness.
Little Wang Ge didn’t pay much attention to Dean Wang’s words, his big eyes turning to look at the cute puppy outside.
"I’m already six, can I go to school?"
Wang Ge’s eyes held infinite longing.
"No, you can’t go to school, I’ll teach you personally, your future is bright, and school can’t teach you much."
Dean Wang’s voice carried an unquestionable tone.
The stars in little Wang Ge’s eyes slowly dimd, and he no longer found joy in watching the puppy outside.
Instead, there was gloom.
"Ah!"
Suddenly, little Wang Ge clutched his head and cried out in pain.
A sudden surge of intense pain in his head made it almost impossible for him to control himself, his tender little hands tugging at the gauze on his head, seemingly wanting to pull it all off.
"Don’t move! Bear it! Get through this period, and you’ll be the luckiest!"
Dean Wang directly grabbed little Wang Ge and pressed him onto a chair.
The chair had so straps specifically for dealing with psychiatric patients, and Dean Wang tied the straps tightly around Wang Ge.
"Dad! Let go! My head hurts so much!"
Little Wang Ge’s tears fell, his body trembling uncontrollably, as he writhed in pain.
He underwent several craniotomies at only six years old.
To him, the previous surgeries seed smooth; they hurt during the operation, but he recovered after a while.
This ti felt a bit different.
It seed like sothing else was added to his head.
That little thing in his head was painfully throbbing, ready to tear apart his mind and consu his consciousness.
A violent emotion rampaged through his mind, wanting to destroy everything.
"Hold on, kid; if you do, Dad will take you to the amusent park." Dean Wang patiently held little Wang Ge’s hand, trembling in pain, "You’ve never been outside our hospital since you were born, right? Once you endure this, Dad will take you to the amusent park to play gas with other kids!"
Dean Wang’s words seed like a lifeline, making little Wang Ge’s eyes, clouded with pain, light up again.
Really, can he leave this hospital?
Since he could rember, this hospital was his ho, and he had never stepped outside it.
He didn’t even know what the hospital’s gate looked like.
In his mories, there were only craniotomies again and again.
His companions were only the deranged patients.
Their behavior was abnormal, sotis waving their arms and legs, or suddenly laughing and crying, making it difficult to communicate normally.
He saw many patients, all different from him.
Their minds were not normal, and once they went crazy, nurses would bind them with straps.
He thought he was different from others, probably normal.
But ever since he was young, his father told him he was sick.
He didn’t know what illness he had.
What he could do was cheer himself on when going on the operating table.
Don’t be afraid, get through it.
Once his body healed, he could be discharged from the hospital and go to school.
But every ti, his father told him his surgery failed.
This ti, his father told him the surgery was successful.
Little Wang Ge’s small body curled up in the straps, but a smile appeared on his face.
If he got through it, could he really go out?
Headache.
There seed to be sothing hard in his head, making it buzz painfully.
Little Wang Ge gritted his teeth, enduring through it.
He’s not an ordinary child; he’s experienced many craniotomies.
According to his father, he was born on the operating table, with his first craniotomy on the day of his birth.
No idea how long had passed.
Little Wang Ge was already unconscious.
Dean Wang loosened the straps and carried out the sweaty little Wang Ge.
Little Wang Ge’s brows were tightly furrowed, unable to shake off the gloom.
Dean Wang’s eyes showed no pity, only complete madness.
"Finally succeeded, finally succeeded." Dean Wang’s voice trembled, "The legend left by the ancestors is true after all!"
Dean Wang placed little Wang Ge back on the bed, his aged fingers trembling as he pulled out a wrinkled book from his pocket.
This book was tattered from reading, not a book but rather a copied image.
It’s an image of an ancient text, but after being flipped through so many tis, this copy was also quite worn.
On it were so cryptic classical texts, awkward words appearing one after another on the wrinkled copy.
Every page was filled with dense annotations.
Dean Wang pointed his finger at each word, reading them aloud.
He had read it tens of thousands of tis.
He could recite it with closed eyes, yet still flipped through the copy repeatedly, carefully confirming the written text.
The text on the copied ancient books consisted of complex classical Chinese, sowhat different from the modern simplified characters.
At a glance, there were few recognizable words.
Only a few similar terms could be roughly discerned.
Head wind disease, Hua Tuo, killed...
This is a tale from thousands of years ago.
It’s rumored that Cao Cao suffered from severe head wind disease.
Upon hearing of Hua Tuo’s superb dical skills, he invited him to treat his illness.
Cao Cao was powerful, and Hua Tuo knew it was unwise to offend him, claiming his wife was ill and unable to visit.
Back then, Cao Cao was already formidable, holding the emperor hostage.
No matter how Hua Tuo refused, he had to go treat him.
And the only solution to Cao Cao’s head wind disease was craniotomy.
At the ti, it was sothing horrifying, and Cao Cao was furious, thinking Hua Tuo deliberately deceived him, intending to harm him.
So he had Hua Tuo killed.
This event beca widely known.
What the true story was, nobody knows.
All buried in the sands of history.
Head wind disease, was it really that simple?
Dean Wang, the descendant of Hua Tuo, knows more than history does.
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