头痛欲裂，林峰晃了晃脑袋，试图把那些混乱的画面压下去。脑子里像是塞了一团乱麻， fragments of memories flickered, chaotic and fragmented. He tried to recall what happened, what was the context of this place, but only a blank canvas remained, frustrating him immensely.

He pushed himself up, ignoring the sharp pain that shot through his entire body. The environment was instantly obvious upon sitting up. A dilapidated wooden bed, the earthy smell of the soil, and the dim light filtering through the cracked walls. A rough stone shelf sat beside the bed, holding a pottery cup and a rusty iron bowl. The bowl contained some dark, stinky liquid, which was probably water, and the cup was filled with straw-like leftovers.

"Ugh, disgusting," scoffed Lin Peak, wrinkling his nose as he rejected the offered drink. He searched for something else, something that could give him more clues. His eyes landed on a small, dusty wooden box under the bed. Curiosity piqued, he draped the blanket over his shoulders and reached for it.