“Beep... beep... beep...” The monitor let out a steady, rhythmic electronic tone. When I opened my eyes, all I saw was a spotless white ceiling, blindingly bright lights, and a full ring of doctors in protective suits around my bed.

I’d been staring at this monotonous sea of white for over three months. Whether I was in the hospital room or the operating room, there weren’t many other colors to see. Aside from the flowers on the windowsill, the only other color might’ve been the blood-red stains all over me.

“How is it? Can you stop the bleeding?” one doctor asked anxiously in English. The reason was simple: he was a European doctor with blond hair and blue eyes. But I could understand him by now. They said the same few things over and over every day.

And he wasn’t the only foreigner. Beneath their protective suits, the doctors gathered around my room had all kinds of skin tones. They’d come from countries all over the world, and I’d heard they were experts in their respective fields—some even the most eminent authorities in their specialties.

Their age alone made it obvious. A few already had silver at their temples, and most of the others were middle-aged or older. The doctors in the intensive care room now were taking part in an international consultation. Doctors without sufficient credentials weren’t even allowed inside. They could only watch from outside through the glass walls.

In the twenty-first century, a terrifying infectious disease swept across the globe, dealing all of humanity a devastating blow. Ever since then, the medical community had taken the prevention and control of infectious diseases extremely seriously. No one dared let their guard down again.

And as if that weren’t enough, not long after that disaster, another bizarre infectious disease appeared. No one knew what caused it. No one had ever seen its pathology, and no one knew how to treat it. It was an illness unlike anything humanity had ever encountered.

Fortunately, the lessons of the last outbreak had made humanity quick to react this time. And as luck would have it, the disease broke out in a country with some of the world’s fastest and strictest infectious-disease prevention measures. It was effectively contained as soon as it appeared.

Even so, the disease’s strangeness, danger, and unprecedented nature had everyone who knew about it breaking into a cold sweat and thanking their lucky stars. If it hadn’t been contained in time, the consequences would’ve been unthinkable.

By now, doctors from many foreign countries had crossed oceans to study the handful of patients here. They hoped to uncover the secret behind this unprecedented disease and prevent it from breaking out again.

Humanity still hadn’t found the pathogen. It was as if it had appeared out of thin air, and no one knew whether it might come back someday.

Apparently, I might’ve been the unlucky patient zero. At the very least, I was the one who’d been sick the longest, going by how far back they could trace the disease.

But unfortunately, no matter how many times they questioned me, or how thoroughly they investigated my daily routine, my movements, and my relationships, they still couldn’t figure out where this strange disease had come from.

If I could, I’d like to know too. Why did I have to be the unlucky one? Otherwise, I’d die with regrets.

Many of the doctors around me looked at me with pity. A strong, promising high school student with a bright future had somehow come down with this bizarre disease—and there was almost no hope of saving me.

“Beep!” The door swung open, and a doctor hurried inside. He whispered a few words, this time in Chinese. “Patients Two and Eighteen just died. Patients Five and Eight have suddenly gotten worse.”

A shadow fell over every doctor’s face. So far, they hadn’t managed to save a single one of us, and they still hadn’t uncovered even the tip of the iceberg when it came to this strange disease.

They felt defeated, as if they were fighting a battle with no victory in sight. There was no hope before them. The patients were dying one by one, and the doctors couldn’t find a single way to slow the disease.

Vaccines, miracle drugs, treatment plans—there was nothing. This strange disease seemed to mock the advances of modern medicine and the helplessness of the medical experts.

Meanwhile, the news reports outside were announcing good tidings, telling people that doctors had scientifically and effectively contained the spread of the virus and were working hard to develop a way to fight it. That was the greatest mockery of all.

Maybe once every patient had died, the news would declare that humanity had defeated another plague. But could they really accept such a hollow victory with a clear conscience?

I watched the doctors, some lost in thought, others frowning or whispering among themselves. Then a familiar, soul-carving pain struck me again. It felt like every part of my body was hurting.

“Agh!” I couldn’t hold back a cry. The doctors were startled, and the monitor began shrilling in rapid bursts. My whole body started convulsing violently, but I was already strapped tightly to the bed.

“The disease is back! The patient’s heart rate is rising—give him anesthesia!” an elderly doctor shouted. He didn’t need to tell them. A doctor beside me had already given me an injection.

There were no nurses. There wasn’t even room for a nurses’ station. The doctors filled the place, and they began assigning roles, letting the ones most skilled at surgery operate on me and observe the changes in my body.

“The dose isn’t enough! Give him painkillers—double the dose! Hang a blood bag! Get him on a ventilator!” I heard another doctor shout. They gave me another injection, but it was no use. I felt countless bugs burrowing through me, writhing and biting inside my body, driving me mad with pain.

I kept my eyes fixed straight ahead on a screen hanging on the wall. Even with a breathing mask over my mouth, even as a scalpel cut open my chest, I didn’t turn my head.

It was a full-body angiogram, the latest in medical technology. It could show the flow of blood inside a patient’s body in real time. But here, the doctors were hoping to observe the paths of my blood vessels.

On the screen, I saw something horrifying and unbelievable. The blood vessels, like a spiderweb, were wriggling and burrowing in every direction, as if they were alive. Some of them even seemed to be poking out of my body.

“The patient has entered Stage Three. All personnel, evacuate the room!” a shrill voice blared over the intercom, repeating the announcement again and again. The foreign doctors set down their instruments without a word and turned to leave.

The doctors from my own country kept trying until their final efforts came to nothing. Then, with no choice, they turned and left. I’d already been declared beyond treatment.

Only one doctor stopped. He’d been with me the longest. He was the first doctor assigned to be my attending physician. After hesitating for a moment, he returned to my bedside and asked, “Do you have any last words?”

His voice was almost breaking. Was he asking for my last words? I’d written those a long time ago. What was the point of asking now?

The anesthesia seemed to have taken effect by then, and I wasn’t in much pain anymore. Numbly, I watched blood spurt from all over my body, as if someone were pressing down on a syringe. I struggled to open my mouth. “Kill me. I don’t want to turn into a monster!”

“I...” The doctor staggered back two steps, stricken. “I’m sorry. I can’t do it.”

“Then... what are you still doing here? Hurry up and go! Go!” I cried out. I could feel it—I couldn’t hold it back anymore. The thing inside me was desperately trying to claw its way out. If he didn’t leave now, it’d be too late.

Several guards in protective suits rushed in and dragged the doctor away, leaving me alone to wait quietly for the end of my life. The only things keeping me company were the monitor’s fading beeps and the blood vessels spreading wildly across the angiogram.

In the final moment of my life, I saw countless blood vessels burst out of my body and dance wildly through the air like golden serpents, spraying blood everywhere as if celebrating their birth.

And I sank into a dark, dreamless sleep.