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That evening, after school, Lin Mu Shi came to visit Zhuang Zi’ang.
Trailing behind her was their homeroom teacher, Zhang Zhiyuan.
The atmosphere was heavy as teacher and student met.
Seeing Zhuang Zi’ang lying weakly in bed, Zhang Zhiyuan’s eyes turned red. “Are you alright?”
Zhuang Zi’ang forced a smile. “Thank you for coming to see me, Teacher Zhang. I’m actually fine. Can you talk to the doctor and let me go home now?”
“No, you can’t be so reckless. You need to follow the doctor’s orders,” Zhang Zhiyuan said firmly.
His expression grew serious. “As your teacher, I have a responsibility to you. I’ll notify your parents tonight.”
“Please, Teacher Zhang, don’t!” Zhuang Zi’ang pleaded anxiously.
Lin Mu Shi interjected, “Zhuang Zi’ang is here because his dad kicked him. What good will telling his parents do?”
Zhang Zhiyuan let out a heavy sigh. It was truly tragic to have parents like that.
Zhuang Zi’ang explained, “It’s not my dad I’m afraid of—it’s my grandpa. He’s over seventy. If he finds out, I’m afraid he won’t be able to take it.”
Zhang Zhiyuan recalled Zhuang Jianguo, a kind and simple old man. If he knew his grandson’s life was hanging by a thread, it would break him.
“How long do you plan to keep this a secret?” Zhang Zhiyuan asked.
“Doctor Chen Dexiu said there’s still a chance I’ll be discharged. When the time comes, I’ll say my goodbyes,” Zhuang Zi’ang replied.
The room was thick with sorrow.
At forty-six, Zhang Zhiyuan never imagined he’d be listening to an eighteen-year-old entrusting him with his final wishes.
Lin Mu Shi was already in tears, her face streaked with them.
Before leaving, Zhang Zhiyuan held Zhuang Zi’ang’s hand. “Do everything you can to cooperate with the treatment. Believe in miracles—never give up.”
Zhuang Zi’ang nodded firmly. “Teacher Zhang, I feel lucky to be your student.”
“With a student like you, I am proud,” Zhang Zhiyuan said, turning away, wiping a tear as he hurried out.
He went to speak with Doctor Chen Dexiu, doing what he could—leaving the rest to fate.
Zhuang Zi’ang urged Lin Mu Shi to go home early, but she insisted on staying a while longer.
Having been hospitalized herself, she knew how lonely it felt to stare at an IV drip.
“Tell me a story, Zhuang Zi’ang,” she said.
Zhuang Zi’ang gazed at the ceiling, a faint smile appearing on his lips.
“It was a sunny morning, and the ginkgo trees on campus were lush and vibrant.
After being a good student for over ten years, I suddenly wanted to rebel. So, for the first time in my life—I skipped class.”
The tall walls of the school confined his restless spirit.
Then, a melody drifted through the air.
From beneath the ginkgo tree, a voice called out, soft yet clear.
“Do you want to go out?”
He turned—and met a gaze that felt like a lifetime.
In that moment, mischief became a bond between strangers.
They roamed the streets, shared skewers of grilled meat, flipped through joke books in the library, fed stray cats, flew kites, and laughed until their stomachs hurt.
And then, finally, they stood beneath the night sky and shouted to each other—
“I miss you.”
They had never spoken of love.
Because true love isn’t spoken—it’s felt.
To miss someone is the purest confession.
As Zhuang Zi’ang recounted the memory, his voice softened.
Lin Mu Shi wept silently.
She had always been the proud school beauty, admired by countless boys. Yet she had never truly understood love.
Now, she realized—it wasn’t about possession.
Love was about giving.
It was about becoming a better version of yourself because of the other person.
A few days ago, she had considered taking Zhuang Zi’ang from Xiao Yudie, just to satisfy her own vanity.
Now, she saw how foolish that thought was.
He was Zhuang Zhou. She was the butterfly.
They had already completed each other.
There was no room for anyone else.
As night deepened, Lin Mu Shi had to leave.
Before stepping out of the hospital room, she turned back.
“If she’s willing to stay with you until the very end… would you let her?”
Zhuang Zi’ang bit his lip, silent for a long time.
Lin Mu Shi didn’t wait for an answer.
She quietly walked away.
But deep inside, Zhuang Zi’ang knew the truth.
Of course, he wanted to.
A thousand times. A million times.
To die in Xiao Yudie’s arms would be the greatest fortune.
But he couldn’t be so selfish.
He couldn’t trade two months of happiness for a lifetime of her sorrow.
He had to let go.
Zhuang Zi’ang spent another three days in the hospital.
Most of the time, he scrolled through his phone, resisting the urge to contact Xiao Yudie.
But deep down, he hoped.
He often clicked on their chat, only to sigh and close it again.
Xiao Yudie never messaged him either.
This silent, torturous dance left Zhuang Zi’ang on the brink of collapse.
He wanted to rip out the IV.
He wanted to escape.
Anywhere—just not here.
During his hospital stay, Li Huang Xuan called.
“Why haven’t you been in class?”
Zhuang Zi’ang made up an excuse about training for a competition.
Since it had happened before, Li Huang Xuan didn’t question him.
Before hanging up, Zhuang Zi’ang hesitated.
“Has… anyone asked about me?”
“No, why?”
“…Nothing. Forget it.”
That night, Doctor Chen Dexiu delivered his final verdict.
“I recommend you stay for treatment. But if you insist on leaving—sign the papers.”
Freedom.
But also, an unspoken truth—no miracle was coming.
In reality, the three-month prognosis had been optimistic.
The end might come even sooner.
That weekend, Zhuang Zi’ang didn’t return to school.
Instead, he sat by the riverside for two days straight.
He watched the drifting clouds, the setting sun.
He listened to the rushing water, the whispering pines.
Above him, a kite shaped like a butterfly floated in the sky.
Beneath the bridge, echoes of laughter rang out.
On Sunday afternoon, Lin Mu Shi came to find him.
Seeing his pale, weary face, her heart ached.
“Mu Shi… I can only repay your kindness in the next life,” he murmured, staring at the water.
Lin Mu Shi’s eyes filled with tears. “If you’re really gone one day… and she comes looking for you… what should I tell her?”
Zhuang Zi’ang’s throat tightened.
“Tell her I never liked her.”
Lin Mu Shi gasped. “Why?”
“With my grades, I had to leave for a better future.”
“Do you really have to be this cruel?”
“If she believes it, she’ll be sad for a few days.”
“But if she doesn’t… she’ll grieve for a lifetime.”
A gust of wind rippled the river.
The waves crashed against the bridge.
The echoes in the tunnel sounded like deep sobs.
And the flowing water… seemed to mourn along with him.