13.
Song Chengshu drove me home, and I invited him in for a bit. Noticing it was already midnight, I thought he’d decline, but to my surprise, he agreed. After locking his car, we chatted and laughed all the way up to my apartment.
Song Chengshu hadn’t visited my place often. It’s a bit out of the way, and parking isn’t convenient. We usually gather at his place for hangouts. After all, his home is over 200 square meters – plenty of space for our group of four or five to spread out comfortably.
As soon as Song Chengshu entered, a chilly air enveloped us. He asked, “Wen Li, don’t you have heating? It’s freezing in here.”
I forced a smile, “The heating hasn’t been working well this year. Have a seat first; I’ll turn on the air conditioner.”
I switched on the AC’s heat mode, cranking it up high. Soon enough, the room warmed up. I fetched some drinks from the kitchen, tossing him his favorite yogurt before sitting down beside him.
14
“Your place is tiny. I feel like there’s barely room to stand,” Song Chengshu shook his head, sipping his yogurt. I playfully smacked his shoulder.
“That’s because you’re used to your mansion. This place is fine for two people.”
Song Chengshu fell silent, just smirking proudly as he got up to wander around my apartment.
“Wen Li, it’s been years, but your bedroom hasn’t changed a bit!” he called from the doorway. I walked over and flicked on the lights so he could see clearly.
“Look, it has changed. I added a desk!” I pointed to the small white desk in the corner, topped with a bookshelf. He walked over, curiously examining everything. When he was about to reach the box where I kept the love letters I wrote, I suddenly remembered its contents. Panicking, I rushed over and blocked the box, my expression stiff.
“Hey, want some fruit? Let’s go back to the living room.”
Song Chengshu found my behavior odd. He reached for the box. “What’s wrong? I just want to see if you have anything interesting. Why so worked up?”
I held his hand back. “Let’s skip this box. It’s not convenient.”
“Huh? What are you hiding?”
I bit my lip, forcing a smile.
“Nothing, just… privacy.”
Song Chengshu playfully leaned in, trying to force the box open. “Hey! What secrets are you keeping from your buddy? After all these years, come on, let me see!”
“No, don’t look! You really can’t see this!” I desperately blocked his attempts to grab the box. Luckily, my back covered it perfectly, making it difficult for him to reach.
As we grappled, he tripped on something and fell backwards. In a panic, he grabbed me, pulling me down with him. We tumbled onto the bed, my face smashing right into his, our lips colliding.
It was something I’d never dared to imagine – accidentally kissing Song Chengshu.
Though it was unintentional, I greedily savored the warmth of his lips, soft and moist like newly bloomed petals. I didn’t want to move, truly didn’t want to get up.
I wished I could stay nestled in his arms forever.
Song Chengshu was stunned by this accident too. After a moment of short-circuiting, he snapped back to reality, immediately pushing me away. Sitting up, he wiped his mouth, complaining non-stop.
“Damn, what did I trip on? Shit! How did I end up kissing you? Tch! That was my first kiss!”
His mention of it being his first kiss surprised me. In my memories, Song Chengshu had dated girls before. Though not many and for short periods, I thought he’d lost his first kiss long ago.
After all, it was my first kiss too.
I felt deeply satisfied. To think I’d gotten his first kiss – forgive my selfishness, but I cherished it.
However, I couldn’t show it. I could only feign disgust and say, “You’re one to talk. That was my first kiss too! You fell and dragged me down with you.”
Song Chengshu thought I was genuinely upset. He smiled helplessly, tugging my sleeve to comfort me.
“Alright, it’s just a kiss. What’s done is done. We’re both guys anyway, so it’s not a big deal.”
I took a deep breath and shooed him away. “Get out of here! Before we trip over something else.”
“Right, right. Can’t stay in this room anymore. Too many traps,” Song Chengshu joked, ending this awkward and nearly revealing situation.
Watching him leave my room, I finally let out a sigh of relief.
I nearly exposed myself. It was so close.
When our lips touched, I felt as if my life was complete.
15.
Song Chengshu stayed a bit longer, but the atmosphere felt awkward after our kiss. Sensing this, he stood up, put on his coat, and said goodbye.
“Well, Wen Li, I’ll head back now.”
“Alright, take care on the way back, let me know when you’re home safe, and get some rest.” I waved, walking him to the door.
Before leaving, Song Chengshu added, “By the way, I might be out of town for a while. I probably won’t be back until close to Spring Festival. Let’s celebrate together then.”
“Sure, but don’t overwork yourself. See you at Spring Festival.” I smiled, leaning against the doorframe. As I watched him reach the staircase corner, a sudden burst of courage made me call out.
“Song Chengshu!”
He stopped and looked up. My gaze flickered – I can’t remember how I looked at him, but it was probably deeply affectionate and reluctant to part. The motion-sensor lights in the hallway went out, plunging us into darkness. He couldn’t see my eyes clearly, but heard my husky voice in the air, “Goodnight.”
Song Chengshu replied, “Goodnight! I’m off!”
151Raw says 15 and the next few sections are numbered in order so 15 is just doubled..
Back in my room, I stared at the rumpled bedding, savoring the memory of that kiss.
Was this an unexpected surprise?
That night, I couldn’t fall asleep.
Every time I closed my eyes, I saw his face.
What if he had seen that box of unsent love letters and all those envelopes and paper? If he’d seen the sender and recipient, realizing I was the one who’d been faithfully writing and sending him love letters for eight years, how would he react?
He might think I’m a liar, deceiving him for eight years, making him fantasize about someone who turned out to be a man in love with him.
Surely he’d be upset with me, lose his temper, argue, maybe even end our friendship.
I’ve rehearsed these devastating scenarios in my mind countless times. That’s why I’d rather be a coward, a weakling, if it means keeping his enthusiasm, friendliness, and companionship as a friend. I’m willing to accept that.
I just hope I won’t cry too miserably on his wedding day.
16.
I had originally planned to get my cough checked at the hospital after the New Year, but unexpectedly, my workplace gave us time off right after a busy period.
They let us go more than a week before Spring Festival.
This was something I never expected. Who knew the company could be so considerate?
This afternoon, after packing up at the office, I immediately made an appointment with the internal medicine department on my phone, planning to get examined in the next few days once I got a slot.
I’ve noticed my cough getting worse. Sometimes it’s endless, and I’ve even started coughing up saliva with faint traces of blood.
I really hope it’s nothing serious.
17.
Four days later, my appointment day arrived.
I went to the hospital on time.
The weather wasn’t great today—no sun, no snow, just a gloomy grey everywhere with strong winds. It made my mood inexplicably heavy.
Bundled up in my thick coat, I got my number and entered the specialist’s office.
After the previous patient left, I sat down in front of the doctor.
His hand on the mouse, eyes on the computer screen, he asked, “Tell me, what’s your situation?”
I gathered my thoughts and began explaining, “Last month, I got the flu with a severe fever and cough. I was on IV drips for a week. The cold’s gone now, but I’m still coughing. It’s getting worse lately, and I’ve started coughing up blood.”
The doctor looked up at me, his expression serious. He seemed to think for a moment, then handed me several forms.
“This seems to be a lung issue. get an X-ray, then a chest CT scan, followed by a bronchoscopy. Bring the results back to me for a preliminary analysis.”
I knew it, as soon as you go to the hospital, they want to do a bunch of different tests.
I actually hate coming to the hospital, but my health has been so poor lately. With new projects coming up after the New Year, I can’t afford to delay my work. Getting checked early would put my mind at ease.
I took the forms and followed the doctor’s instructions, going to the third and fourth floors for the three examinations.
The tests were quite troublesome and took several hours. Afterwards, I asked the doctor when the results would be ready. He told me to go have lunch first and come back for the reports around 1 p.m.
18.
I dragged my tired body out to a nearby restaurant, ordering a simple noodle dish and eating slowly.
For some reason, I’d been feeling uneasy since I set out for the hospital this morning.
The food tasted bland. Halfway through, I started coughing again, one fit after another.
Worried about disturbing other diners, I left my last bite, grabbed some napkins, and went outside to cough.
This time, I nearly collapsed on the street.
I held the napkin, stained with faint blood streaks mixed with saliva and white phlegm. Exhausted, I found a bench to sit on. My body felt off, and even the slightest breeze triggered unstoppable coughing.
I’m not sure how long I sat there. Suddenly, my vision blurred, my chest ached, and breathing became difficult. I felt suspended, as if hanging. The more dejected I felt, the worse my condition became.
I’ve always been careless about my health, rarely paying attention. Perhaps it’s this cold attitude that led me to neglect my well-being, and now something feels seriously wrong.
19.
When it was nearly time, I returned to the hospital to collect my test results.
After three trips up and down, I finally gathered all the reports.
I entered the specialist’s office again. Two patients were getting prescriptions, so I quietly queued behind them.
While waiting, I looked through the reports. Though much of it was incomprehensible to me, a clear line at the bottom of the last page caught my eye. I saw “deterioration” and “cancerous changes”.
My heart sank. I felt numb.
Standing there, clutching the reports, my mind raced through all possible ailments.
It mentioned lung cancer, rapidly progressing. I wasn’t sure what “rapidly progressing” meant exactly. If it really was cancer, surely there’d be a chance of recovery with persistent treatment.
Though I’m generally indifferent about my own life and death, and casual about my health, I don’t actually want to die.
My life is so peaceful – earning money, dining with friends, socializing, occasional trips. Most importantly, I have an unrequited love, someone always on my mind. While I may not be blessed with abundant material or spiritual luxuries, I’ve managed to live happily despite losing both parents, not giving them cause to worry in heaven.
I really don’t want to die yet.
“Mr. Wen.”
“Mr. Wen!”
The doctor called twice before pulling me from my thoughts. I turned to see the two patients had left with their prescriptions. I quickly sat down and handed the reports to the doctor.
What followed was an agonizingly long wait.
The doctor’s expression was initially nonchalant when he received the reports. As he slowly read through all three, then reread them, his face grew serious. By the time he set them down and looked at me, his expression was helpless, as if regretting something on my behalf.
“Mr. Wen, you need to prepare yourself mentally for this condition.”
Hearing this, I basically knew what to expect.
I now clearly understood that I had cancer. I was rational and clear-headed.
Yet I felt surprisingly calm.
I waited for the doctor to continue, to hear what treatment options he’d offer, how long I’d need to be treated.
But his next words hit me like a bolt from the blue. I couldn’t accept it at all.
“Mr. Wen, this illness has been neglected for too long. It must have been unnoticeable and not serious before, and you didn’t pay attention. The lung cancer has progressed very severely, and it’s now in a state of rapid deterioration. The tumor size is beyond the point where medication can control it. Simply put…” He paused, noting my unusually calm face, furrowing his brow before continuing, “Simply put, it’s incurable.”
My mind went blank.
Incurable… How could I accept this word?
I’d rehearsed countless answers – early stage, middle stage, benign, or how much money it would take to cure. I’d considered all these possibilities, but “incurable” never crossed my mind.
My fingers curled between my legs, my shoulders unconsciously trembling. I raised my head again, asking the doctor with a final, hoarse voice, “Then, if it’s incurable, how long can I live?”
The doctor replied without hesitation, “Less than six months.”
It’s January now. Less than six months means I won’t live to see midsummer.
How should I spend these six months?
I want treatment, but if it’s incurable, why should I bother?
Is it because I still can’t accept the fact that I won’t live beyond half a year?
I should feel scared and sad hearing my death prognosis, but I couldn’t shed a tear. I just clutched the reports tightly, staring palely at the writing, struggling to breathe.
“Doctor, if I choose treatment now, is there really no chance of recovery? Or… even extending my life a bit?” I asked.
The doctor sighed, replying flatly, “If you choose treatment, given your condition, you might last until the end of the year at most. But the cost would be extremely high. It’s your choice.”
I wondered if I should undergo treatment.
Spend all my savings to extend my life by half a year. But what could I do with that extra time? What should I do?
I thought for a long time but couldn’t come up with a reason to extend my life by six months.
I considered confessing to Song Chengshu, but I didn’t want to spend my final days in sorrow. I didn’t want Song Chengshu to know about my illness. If he knew, he’d surely insist I get treatment, even if he had to pay for it himself.
But if it’s incurable, why waste the money?
I sat there pondering for a long time, then quietly sighed and told the doctor, “I’ll go home and think it over.”
Then I left the hospital with my reports.
20.
I can’t remember how I left the hospital or how I took a taxi home.
That afternoon, I just sat on the sofa, staring blankly for hours without moving.
I sat from dawn till dusk, the room changing from bright to pitch black. But I didn’t care. For me now, the whole world had gone dark.
It didn’t matter whether the lights were on or off anymore.
This was the second time I couldn’t sleep all night.
The first time was after kissing Song Chengshu; this time, it was learning I was going to die.
I always thought that when people face severe blows, they’d break down, suffer, even cry out loud.
But I never imagined that when that day actually came, I’d be calm, numb. I don’t know if it’s because I haven’t truly accepted this reality yet, or if I’ve instantly come to terms with it all.
Can I really come to terms with it? But I haven’t even said “I like you” to Song Chengshu yet.
I want to try treatment again.
At least, I want him to know how I feel about him. Then I can die without regrets.
TL Notes
- 1Raw says 15 and the next few sections are numbered in order so 15 is just doubled.
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