The Mysterious Regenerator
Do you know about animals' regeneration abilities?
I have them too.
1
I had never seen such a horrific car accident scene.
The car and the person inside were so badly burned they were unrecognizable. The thing propped up in the driver's seat, looking like a charred piece of wood—they said it was Timothy, my husband.
But Timothy should have been on an airplane right now.
2
Timothy worked for a large company and went on business trips almost every month, each one lasting many days, leaving me home alone.
At first I'd cling to him, not wanting him to go. He'd comfort me: "I work this hard for our family, to give you a better life." So gradually I came to understand.
That morning, Timothy left as usual, giving me a kiss that smelled of fresh toothpaste, dragging his suitcase to his black Cherokee.
Barring any surprises, he'd be boarding a flight to City X in an hour. Normally he'd call to let me know he'd arrived safely.
He'd always done this, so I had every reason to believe this time would be no different.
After breakfast, I grabbed a box of tissues and sat in front of the TV. When I had free time, I watched Korean dramas to pass the hours. The romances in those shows were always so dramatic and tragic. Compared to their experiences, my life felt like I'd been living in a jar of honey.
The phone shrilled suddenly. I blew my nose and picked up the receiver. A strange voice: "Hello, is this Yvonne?"
"Yes."
"My surname is Li, from the traffic police accident division. Half an hour ago, on Taoyuan Road in the south of the city, your husband Timothy was in a car accident. He's been severely injured and has been taken to the hospital..."
"You've got the wrong person. My husband is on a business trip today. At this time, he should be on a plane."
"No mistake, it's definitely him. We've confirmed his identity."
"..."
3
Half-believing, I rushed to the hospital.
Outside the operating room, I met Officer Li.
"From the surveillance footage of the accident area, your husband lost control of the car while taking a phone call. The car hit a guardrail and the gas tank exploded." He briefed me on the situation, then showed me photos from the scene.
In the photos, both the car and the person were charred beyond recognition.
I glanced at them once, then handed them back. That burned piece of wood—how could that be my Timothy? My Timothy with his bright eyes, his handsome face?
"Officer Li, you must have made a mistake. That can't be Timothy. I'd recognize my own husband, wouldn't I?" I said firmly.
"Then do you recognize this?" He held out a phone.
The phone's lock screen was a photo of me and Timothy.
Our heads pressed together, smiling brightly.
Tears streamed down my face.
Timothy—wasn't he supposed to be in City X? How could he be on Taoyuan Road, heading in the opposite direction from the airport?
I didn't know why he'd suddenly changed his plans. All I knew was that from this moment on, our life had plunged into hell...
After hours of emergency surgery, Timothy was finally out of danger, but the accident had completely destroyed his face!
The doctor said he had burns covering 60% of his body!
4
"Please, you have to restore his face! No matter the cost, no matter what it takes!" Like a desperate drowning person, I clung to the doctor. His name was Dr. Duval, a specialist in burn reconstruction.
Dr. Duval shook his head. "Setting aside the astronomical surgical costs for now, there's also the issue of skin supply. To ensure the grafts take, skin transplants typically use the patient's own skin. But given his current condition, we clearly can't harvest enough from him."
"Can we use someone else's skin?" My heart leaped.
"In principle, yes, but there's a risk of immune rejection, which could cause the whole procedure to fail."
"But it could also succeed, right?" I said excitedly. "Dr. Duval, I'm willing to provide skin for my husband..."
Dr. Duval stared at me in shock. "Do you know what 60% means? After skin is harvested from the donor area, it leaves irreversible scarring. That means your body would be covered in ugly scars. For a woman, that's extremely cruel!"
"Thank you for the warning, but I'm not afraid." I looked around, grabbed a scalpel from a tray, and pressed it against my arm.
5
"What—what are you doing?" Dr. Duval's face changed. "Let's talk this through. Put the knife down!"
He probably thought I'd lost my mind and was trying to threaten self-harm. I smiled: "Don't panic. I just want to tell you a secret."
"A secret? What secret?"
"Dr. Duval, do you know about animals' regeneration abilities?"
"Of course I do." Dr. Duval adjusted his glasses. "As a defense mechanism, casting off intestines or severating limbs is common among lower animals. Sea cucumbers eject their guts, crabs autotomize their claws, gecko lizards drop their tails. These protective reflexes cause no fatal harm because their wounds heal soon after, and new parts grow back..."
"What if I told you I have the same kind of regeneration ability as these animals? Would you believe me?" I asked.
"You're joking! How is that possible?" Dr. Duval found it incredible. His reaction was exactly what I'd expected.
"Dr. Duval, I'm not joking." I said earnestly.
6
Before I turned twenty-seven, I always thought I was no different from anyone else. Born the usual way, mammal, primate, member of the human species. I could smile, walk upright, and I had 206 bones in my body.
But half a year ago, I discovered something strange.
It was a golden sunset evening. I was scrambling in the kitchen, preparing a feast for Timothy's return from a business trip.
I accidentally cut my hand with a kitchen knife. Large drops of blood welled up, like heavy fruit hanging from a branch.
I wrapped the wound in a paper towel and went to find a Band-Aid. But when I unwrapped the paper towel, I froze...
The bloody wound had simply vanished! My finger was perfectly intact, showing no sign of injury at all.
I examined the hand, unable to believe my eyes. When I told Timothy that night, he laughed and said I'd watched too many Korean dramas and was hallucinating.
Even if it was a hallucination, what about the paper towel? It was still sitting in the trash can, the bloodstains clearly visible.
"It's probably chicken blood or fish blood. You got it on yourself by accident," Timothy analyzed.
That seemed to make some sense, so I didn't think much more about it.
Not long after, the light bulb in the hallway burned out. I didn't want to bother Timothy, so I climbed onto a chair to replace it myself. The chair toppled, and I fell from a height, my forehead smashing into the coffee table. Blood flowed.
When I checked the wound in the mirror, something jaw-dropping happened again: the gash was actually closing—slowly, almost imperceptibly, the edges drawing together...
The tender pink granulation tissue interlocked like meshing gears, embracing tightly, merging into one. Within minutes, the wound had inexplicably vanished! Not only that, even the pores and skin tone showed no abnormality whatsoever!
I had no choice but to believe I possessed a miraculous regeneration ability. But I told no one—not even Timothy.
I just wanted to be an ordinary person, enjoying an ordinary life. I didn't want to be treated like a freak, living under the gaze of others.
7
After hearing my story, Dr. Duval was half-convinced.
To prove I wasn't lying, I endured the pain and used that sharp scalpel to make a cut on my arm. Just as I'd described, the wound healed perfectly within minutes.
Dr. Duval was dumbfounded.
"Now you believe me, right?" I said. "My regeneration ability can provide an inexhaustible supply of skin for Timothy! However much he needs, I can provide!"
Seeing my determination, Dr. Duval didn't argue further. "I understand how you feel, but we still need to check if the objective conditions are suitable."
He took me for compatibility testing. Fortunately, my indicators matched Timothy's very closely. When I got the results, I jumped for joy.
Perhaps heaven had given me this ability for exactly this moment!
After a series of preparations, the first skin transplant surgery was performed quickly.
Despite my mental preparation, when I lay on that cold operating table, my heart still pounded...
Other than my unusual regeneration ability, everything else about me was the same as an ordinary person. I felt fear, and I felt pain!
I clenched my fists and told myself to be strong. At a time like this, only I could save Timothy...
I couldn't let him live the rest of his life with a destroyed face, trapped in pain and despair.
And so, I persevered.