Chapter 39: Lighten Up

On Saturday morning, Zhuang Zi’ang bought some ham sausages and diced them into small pieces.

Following Xiao Butterfly’s instructions, he headed to West Mountain Park to feed the stray cats.

As soon as Zhuang Zi’ang took out the food, a cluster of colorful little cats quickly surrounded him.

He recalled the names Xiao Butterfly had given them: Tiger, Cheese, Pudding, and so on.

But the little cat named Tom would never appear again.

He couldn’t forget the way Xiao Butterfly had cried over it.

“Young man, why didn’t that girl come with you?” a warm voice came from behind him.

Zhuang Zi’ang turned around to see the sanitation worker from before.

He answered despondently, “She’s been busy lately; I haven’t seen her for several days.”

“She’s such a kind-hearted girl. For the past three months, she’s come every weekend to feed the cats,” the lady smiled.

“Three months?” Zhuang Zi’ang murmured to himself.

He remembered the lady selling fried potatoes had said the same thing—that Xiao Butterfly had met her three months ago.

That must have been just before the New Year.

Zhuang Zi’ang picked up his phone and recorded a short video of the kittens.

He wanted to send it to Xiao Butterfly but remembered her card phone likely couldn’t receive it.

He would just have to wait until she returned to show it to her in person.

The sun rose high in the sky, casting light on the flowers and trees in the park, and the air was exceptionally fresh.

Zhuang Zi’ang greedily took a few deep breaths before leaving.

Today, he had an appointment with Doctor Chen Dexiu to go back to the hospital for another check-up.

Although he knew it would likely be futile.

The hospital corridor was filled with the pungent smell of disinfectant.

Faint sounds of sobbing could be heard coming from the patient rooms.

Every time he walked through this place, Zhuang Zi’ang felt a chill down his spine.

He sat in the corridor for a long time, waiting for Doctor Chen Dexiu’s office to open, until a middle-aged couple walked out, tears still on their faces.

Zhuang Zi’ang understood their pain; after all, patients who sought out Doctor Chen Dexiu usually had very serious conditions.

When it was finally Zhuang Zi’ang’s turn, Chen Dexiu looked up from behind his glasses.

“Why are you here all alone again? No family to accompany you?” he asked.

Zhuang Zi’ang shook his head. “I don’t want to burden anyone with this.”

Doctor Chen Dexiu sighed, opting not to pry further.

Having been a doctor for most of his life, he had seen all kinds of patients, including those with complicated family situations.

After a long wait, Zhuang Zi’ang finally received his test results from Doctor Chen Dexiu.

“Do you want to read it yourself, or should I explain it to you?” Doctor Chen Dexiu asked, his expression grave.

“You’d better explain it simply, in words I can understand,” Zhuang Zi’ang requested.

“Lighten up.”

Just three words, simple and easy to comprehend.

It shattered the last sliver of hope he had left.

This time, Zhuang Zi’ang felt even more heartbroken than before, primarily because he had known Xiao Butterfly now.

Doctor Chen Dexiu plucked a peach blossom from a vase on his desk and handed it to Zhuang Zi’ang.

“Here’s a flower for you. Try to relax a little and spend more time with the ones you love.”

Zhuang Zi’ang accepted it. “The peach blossoms should be wilting soon, right?”

Doctor Chen Dexiu nodded. “Pretty much. This is the last one. I had a patient who loved peach blossoms; she often brought me one to brighten my mood.”

“What happened to that patient?” Zhuang Zi’ang asked.

“She can no longer see the peach blossoms,” Doctor Chen Dexiu replied, shaking his head.

As a doctor, he had long been accustomed to life and death, and there was almost no emotional turbulence when he spoke of such matters.

But for Zhuang Zi’ang, that plain statement felt exceedingly cruel.

This was likely the last peach blossom he would see in his lifetime.

Holding the test report, Zhuang Zi’ang left Doctor Chen Dexiu’s office and encountered a familiar face in the outpatient hall—Lin Mu Shi, the school beauty who sat in front of him in class.

“Mu Shi, what a coincidence,” he said.

Lin Mu Shi’s grandmother was hospitalized here for some chronic illness. She had come to visit her over the weekend and was pleasantly surprised to run into Zhuang Zi’ang.

“You and I seem to have some fate. What are you doing at the hospital?” she asked.

“Oh, nothing much. I had a nosebleed yesterday, so I came to check it out,” Zhuang Zi’ang said, pinching the test report, unsure of where to hide it.

“You had so much nosebleed yesterday; it really scared me. Are you okay?” Lin Mu Shi suddenly reached out and snatched the report from his hands.

“Mu Shi, don’t…” Zhuang Zi’ang tried to stop her, but it was too late.

The report contained many medical terms that Lin Mu Shi couldn’t fully understand.

However, the words “cancer cells metastasized” caught her eye and struck her like a thunderbolt.

Her hands shook uncontrollably as tears filled her eyes.

“Zhuang Zi’ang, this isn’t true, right?”

“Don’t joke about this; it’s not funny at all.”

“I wasn’t good to you before, and I realize my mistakes now. Please don’t scare me with this kind of thing.”

…

Lin Mu Shi spoke as if to Zhuang Zi’ang, yet it felt like she was murmuring to herself.

Though she knew these were just empty words, she couldn’t help but say them.

Zhuang Zi’ang hadn’t expected to run into her here; how could he have prepared something like this as a joke?

“Mu Shi, promise me you won’t tell anyone,” Zhuang Zi’ang calmly requested.

“How could this happen? You’re only eighteen,” Lin Mu Shi cried, tears streaming down her face.

“When my mom was pregnant with me, she wanted to abort me several times. I guess I’ve earned these eighteen years!” Zhuang Zi’ang forced a self-deprecating smile.

“Stop laughing! I told you this isn’t funny at all!” Lin Mu Shi sobbed even louder.

“Shh, keep your voice down; you’ll disturb others,” Zhuang Zi’ang replied helplessly.

In truth, hardly anyone was paying attention to them.

After all, this was a hospital; heart-wrenching moments and farewells were not uncommon here.

“Zhuang Zi’ang, how long do you have left?” she asked.

“Three months… no, it’s been a week already, so it’s just over two months now.”

Zhuang Zi’ang recalled the calendar he had bought, from which he had already torn off ten pages.

Counting days with a calendar like this didn’t feel good at all.

Suddenly, Lin Mu Shi remembered that Zhuang Zi’ang had taken a day off last week, claiming he was going to the doctor.

After he returned, he had changed completely, wearing a gaudy floral shirt, sneaking a novel during math class, and even skipping classes after being punished for it.

It turned out that during that time, he had already been diagnosed with a terminal illness.

Meanwhile, she had been sulking because he hadn’t bought her any fried buns.

“I’m sorry, Zhuang Zi’ang. I didn’t know at that time…”

Zhuang Zi’ang replied lightly, “It’s fine. You don’t have to apologize to me.”

As Lin Mu Shi cried, she recalled all the kind things Zhuang Zi’ang had done for her.

She felt increasingly guilty for being so willful and taking this gentle boy for granted.

Suddenly, an idea struck her as she locked eyes with Zhuang Zi’ang. “Zhuang Zi’ang, you still like me, don’t you?”

Zhuang Zi’ang was taken aback. “What makes you say that?”

“Because you’re sick, you’ve deliberately distanced yourself from me, trying to provoke me with those words, even finding a prettier girl to pretend you’ve moved on,” Lin Mu Shi reasoned confidently.

Zhuang Zi’ang found himself at a loss for words.

Oh, my campus beauty, you might be overthinking this a bit.