The Legend of the Wh

I longed to rip off the oxygen mask and all the uncomfortable tubes from my face, but I was too weak to even raise an arm. My vision slowly focused, and I saw relatives filling the entire ward. My parents, hunched over with white hair, were sobbing uncontrollably with trembling lips as they looked at me. My sister crouched by my bedside, desperately trying to wipe away her tears, but she just couldn't stop them, like when I was a child and fell and cried until nothing could comfort me.,My temples are frosted with age, and my hair is white. There's nowhere to express the profound sadness I feel. As a child, I was unable to repay the grace of having been raised with such love and care. Scenes from my childhood flood back, making me realize how unworthy I am of my parents' devotion.,The initial discomfort gradually faded with time. Twenty years of life polished away humanity, and past memories were gradually suppressed by animalistic instincts. Only occasionally, when lost in thought, would he recall the sorrowful faces of his family by his bedside. When he had nothing to do each day, all he could do was try his best to remember his past life, fearing that one day he might forget everything and be left with only survival instincts, his passion gone, becoming a cold-blooded creature.。