Ke Cheng opened his eyes and looked at the electronic clock beside him.
The time showed it was six o'clock sharp, and the day had already brightened. Summer days are always long. The cicadas had not yet awakened, and the surroundings were eerily quiet, save for the sound of a broom sweeping across the cement floor by the sanitation worker cleaning the neighborhood.
"Good morning."
He said to his reflection in the mirror, then picked up a pen and crossed out the day's date on the calendar.
He had lived through another day.
Since his discharge from the hospital, Ke Cheng felt as if time, which had previously stalled, had started to flow again.
Although his body still suffered intense pain sometimes—pain that made him want to end it all right there—hope sustained Ke Cheng, and he persevered.
He walked downstairs and prepared to jog for a bit of exercise.