Cheng Huanzhen stood dazed in the examination room.

He didn’t know how long he had been standing there—ten minutes, half an hour? All he felt was that it was terribly long.

At last, the buzzing in his ears gradually faded, the gray mist before his eyes slowly dispersed, and only then did the worried calls of several doctors reach him.

“Mr. Cheng? Mr. Cheng?”

His eyes moved.

The doctor who had just delivered the bad news saw him return to himself and immediately tried to patch his words. “But you don’t need to despair too much. The special medication the patient is using seems to be working. We can consider increasing the dosage—perhaps it will keep the condition under control.”

…A patch that did little good.

Cheng Huanzhen’s mind turned slowly. Relying on his body’s automatic responses, he thanked and replied to the doctor politely, then turned and left the consultation room.

He went back to his Little Uncle.

His Little Uncle was chatting idly with the butler. Hearing his footsteps, a delighted smile bloomed on his face as he turned his head toward him.

His Little Uncle’s voice was lively and bright. “Nephew, you’re out! How did it go?”

Cheng Huanzhen stopped in front of him. He opened his mouth, but his voice stuck in his throat.

…What should he say? Tell his Little Uncle that the brain tumor had worsened, and that he might only have two months to live?

He lowered his eyes and looked at his Little Uncle. His eyes were covered with a white cloth, his head tilted up, stray fringe falling a little messily across those clean, handsome features.

His flaming red clothes were extraordinarily vivid in the pallid, lifeless hospital, as if the garment alone could draw all the world’s spirit and vitality to him.

But if he told him this, his Little Uncle would lose his color.

…He would not let his Little Uncle fade.

His Little Uncle waited quite a while without hearing an answer, and his voice grew a little uneasy. “Nephew?”

Cheng Huanzhen shut his eyes abruptly. He drew a deep breath, pressed down the trembling and panic in his chest, and worked to keep his voice steady. “It’s okay, Little Uncle. The exams are normal. The tumor is just a bit larger and pressing on a special blood vessel… But it’s completely within control. As long as you keep taking your medication, it can be managed.”

He added quietly, “Don’t worry, Little Uncle.”

His Little Uncle’s shoulders loosened slightly. A smile returned to his face. “I see. If it can be controlled, then it’s not a problem!”

Cheng Huanzhen wanted to respond to his smile, but he simply couldn’t. He could only bend down and take his Little Uncle’s hand, using the movement to cover his own reactions, and answer as steadily as he could, “Mm. Yes. You’ll be fine, Little Uncle.”

He brought him home and settled him into bed.

Often, his Little Uncle didn’t want to sleep straightaway—just as before the illness, he liked to lie in bed and play on his phone for a while. In the past, at such times, Cheng Huanzhen would sit by his bed, put on some videos, or chat a bit to coax him to sleep.

But today, he couldn’t even soothe his own emotions. If he stayed any longer, he feared a slip in some throwaway phrase would betray his feelings, and his Little Uncle would catch the truth.

“…Little Uncle, I have to get up early to work tomorrow, so I should sleep too. Do you want me to put some music on?” he asked.

His Little Uncle didn’t notice anything wrong—only a small disappointment that he wouldn’t be coaxed to sleep.

“Alright then. Good night, Nephew. Loop my favorites, please. Oh, and don’t forget to draw my lucky mystery prize,” he said.

A surging tide of emotion tried to break through Cheng Huanzhen’s throat. He forced it down, set the music, the auto-off timer, and answered simply, “I won’t forget. Good night, Little Uncle.”

He kept his face calm back in his room. The instant the lights went off, everything quietly collapsed.

…Two months. Two months?!

No. Impossible. The capital hospital had to be wrong!

He’d heard they’d had data errors a couple of years ago. Maybe this was a misdiagnosis too?

…Yes. That had to be it. His Little Uncle was in bad shape, but clearly far from dying!

The more he thought it, the more plausible it felt. He sat bolt upright, face blank, grabbed his phone, and began searching for the world’s top brain tumor hospitals.

The best were in Country M.

Once he had that, he moved at once. In two days he had contacted doctors, arranged travel and procedures, and on the third morning he went to his Little Uncle’s room.

A little nervous, he said, “Little Uncle, I have to travel to Country M for work for about a week. It won’t be too busy; I thought I’d do a bit of sightseeing too. Would you like to come with me?”

His Little Uncle processed for a moment, then was delighted. “Travel? Of course! But Nephew, don’t you have classes?”

“I’m a senior now, Little Uncle. I don’t have many classes this year. A week off won’t matter,” he replied patiently.

All the paperwork was ready. The same afternoon his Little Uncle agreed, he took him straight onto a plane.

His Little Uncle was astonished. Fortunately, his reactions weren’t as quick as before. With some effort, Cheng Huanzhen muddled him through.

He didn’t want him suspicious. So on the day they landed, he pretended to be busy for half a day, even hiring a local to come to the hotel and fake an hour-long work talk.

After that “work wrapped up,” he took his Little Uncle sightseeing for half a day. Only on the third day did he finally say, “By the way, Little Uncle, I heard there’s a world-class brain tumor hospital nearby. Since we’re here, why don’t we go take a look? Maybe they can cure you.”

His Little Uncle was instantly wary. “Nearby? That’s too much of a coincidence. You didn’t trick me into coming just to take me to a hospital, did you?”

Nerves tightening, he clenched his hands and said at once, “Of course not, Little Uncle. I really am here on business. If I’d come for treatment, one or two days would have been enough. Why would we be here so long?”

His Little Uncle tilted his head and thought slowly for a long while, and at last let it go. “Mm… okay. That makes sense.”

He quickly recovered his cheer—though he was still unhappy at going somewhere he didn’t want to go.

Cheng Huanzhen got him to the hospital and through the exams. The results were exactly the same as the capital hospital’s.

—Surgery carried extreme risk; many standard treatments were unusable; maintain the current regimen, with room to increase dosage and observe.

It was the second time he had heard this conclusion.

When the foreign doctor regretfully told him, his legs gave out and he sank to the floor in a daze. It felt as if a boulder lay on his chest; he had to fight for air to draw the merest breath.

…How could this be.

How could this be!

His Little Uncle… someone who loved life and the world so much—how could the world not love him back, not wish to keep him?

Impossible. Impossible. It had to be the hospitals.

…Was it that he didn’t have enough money? That he hadn’t found enough hospitals? How could there be no place that could treat him? …There had to be. There had to be a hospital that could!

He left the consultation room in a fog. He didn’t know how he kept his voice steady enough to get his Little Uncle back to the hotel.

Perhaps it was the body’s instinct.

He forced himself to keep it together and, as promised, spent the remaining four days traveling with his Little Uncle.

The moment they returned home, he dove headlong into a new round of hospital searches—he refused to believe there was nowhere to treat him. A hospital had to exist, and he would find it.

He did not tell his father or grandfather. He only informed his grandfather that the results were not good, asked if he had any medical contacts or resources, and said that if his own funds ran short, he would need to borrow.

These days, he was extremely busy. Company projects still demanded his effort—after all, the only survival odds doctors would currently commit to for his Little Uncle were based entirely on the special medication. His caregiving duties had also grown heavier after the exams.

Beyond that, he used whatever time remained to contact other hospitals—domestic, foreign—any with strong brain tumor capabilities, leaving none out.

Experts were harder to reach. For that, he broke precedent and tapped into the contacts he had accumulated since childhood, exhausting every avenue for a greater chance.

Day after day passed. Looking over the reports he provided, hospitals and experts gave him disappointing answers, one after another.

With each reply, despair accumulated in him bit by bit. He found it harder and harder to persuade himself that the capital hospital’s judgment had been an “error.”

As the despair grew, it became ever harder to disguise. Smiles wouldn’t come; he could barely play along when his Little Uncle tried to tease him into cheer.

It was impossible to fake. In the end, his Little Uncle gleaned what was happening from his state.

On an evening walk after dinner, his Little Uncle shuffled along at his side. Suddenly, he asked, “Your mood’s been very bad lately, Nephew. Was my test result actually terrible?”

At the question, his body went rigid of its own accord—rigidity layered from days of despair, fatigue, dread, and unease. He wanted to be natural but couldn’t.

He was silent for three seconds, then could only answer dryly, “Don’t worry, Little Uncle. I’ll find a way.”

His Little Uncle bowed his head and walked slowly with him. Silence spread between them.

After a quiet moment, his Little Uncle asked softly, “Did you pay for the tests? How much did it cost? Is it a lot of pressure? Tell Dad.”

He did pay. But the money wasn’t—and had never been—the key.

“Don’t worry, Little Uncle. I’ve already spoken to Grandfather,” he said, trying to soothe him.

Even so, his Little Uncle’s spirits remained low. It didn’t improve.

He couldn’t bear to see him like that. He racked his brain for topics: a piece of clothing he’d seen that would suit him, a beautiful travel spot he’d heard about…

In the past, his Little Uncle loved hearing such things. But today, no matter what he said or how he said it, none of it lifted him—he couldn’t coax even the slightest cheer.

His Little Uncle’s sadness was very quiet. No crying, no tantrums. He simply stared off more often, sitting alone on the bed, facing the window for hours.

Cheng Huanzhen didn’t know how to help him recover. He tried everything—jokes, stories. Sometimes he earned a sliver of a smile, but it looked just like his own these days—forced and mechanical.

January arrived in a blink.

Final exams and thesis matters entered the calendar. But to him, they barely counted as “things.”

The last hospital on his list finally replied.

Hands trembling, he opened the email. Before his eyes dropped to the text, he silently prayed that this hospital would bring hope. But the foreign-language email was, once again, full of apologetic refusal.

It was snowing heavily outside.

He felt like all the strength had been drained from him. He leaned back in the chair, staring blankly at the swirling white, his vision dazzled.

After a long stupor, he slowly came back to himself. His focus drew in from the snow to the windowsill.

Three potted plants—red, yellow, green—were being carefully tended. They were thriving and looked like they would continue to grow for a long time.

…But hadn’t he also been tending his Little Uncle with such care? Why couldn’t his Little Uncle be healthy like these three plants?

Crushing, mute despair closed around his throat. At last, he had to admit that the capital hospital’s initial conclusion might truly be correct.

After the silence came instinct.

He decided to take a leave from school. For the month remaining, he wanted to be with his Little Uncle as much as possible. Apart from exams, he didn’t want to divide that precious time for anything unimportant.

At the same time, he decided to tell his grandfather and father. They were, however you put it, his Little Uncle’s family.

Just then, noise came from the door. Someone knocked hard.

Bang, bang, bang!

His Little Uncle’s long-missed, lively voice shouted from outside, “Nephew!”

He snapped to attention. That familiar patter and call. …When was the last time he’d heard it?

Back before summer break—before the episode.

So familiar. So far away.

His Little Uncle…

…Could it be?!

He scrambled up and hurried to the door, a sliver of incredulous hope in his heart, and yanked it open.

“Little Uncle!”

As the door swung wide, the first thing in view was the white cloth over his eyes. The little flame of hope went out without a sound.

But he still stared at him, unable to look away. Today, his Little Uncle had, for once, tied his own high ponytail. His mood seemed to have cast off the gloom of recent days. The smile on his face had its old vitality again.

He had felt his way along the wall to get here. Hearing the door, his smile grew brighter, and his hands groped into the room, as if searching for where he stood.

Cheng Huanzhen reached out to take his hand and led him in.

It was rare to see him so happy, so radiant again. The suffocating emotion that had weighed on him seemed to ease a little with that smile.

“What is it, Little Uncle? You look very happy. Did something happen?” he asked.

His Little Uncle asked mysteriously, “Nephew, do you know what day it is?”

Puzzled, he glanced at his phone. “It’s January thirteenth, Little Uncle.”

“Correct,” his Little Uncle said with a smile. “I’m guessing the sun must be lovely today. Nephew, I want to go out shopping. Will you come with me?”