Understanding

Ye Qingxuan felt as if he was still in a dream when he heard a familiar voice. It was his own voice that was speaking.

"Other than chest tightness and depression, is there anything else?" It seemed to be his own lips that were speaking. His tone was warm and gentle. He could not take it. For some reason, he suddenly thought, If I have always spoken in such a tone, I would probably have been a lot more popular?

He looked around him and found himself in a very clean and white room. There were no sharp corners and there was nothing too exciting or provocative about the bed or table, or even the colors and attire and decorations. It was peaceful and calm. It was almost like heaven.