Wang Chuang turned to him and smiled. “Did I look pathetic when I cried that day?”
“You were a softie,” Jiang Luo replied.
But then he added, “If it were me, I would have cried even louder than you.”
Wang Chuang chuckled.
“Such a fool,” Jiang Luo said, shaking his head.
Later, Jiang Luo received a call from Huo Zongzuo. He told him, “You arranged everything, contacted the people, and the surgery was moved up. That day, they added an extra operation—it was for your aunt.”
They talked briefly about Bai Ting’s condition. Huo Zongzuo said, “I’ll come by the day before the surgery.”
Jiang Luo’s tone was casual. “You don’t need to come.”
“Yes, I do,” Huo Zongzuo said softly. “You treat her like family, and your family is mine too.”
“Alright,” Jiang Luo smiled.
After hanging up, Jiang Luo was about to head upstairs when he caught a glimpse of the sign in front of the floor: Respiratory Medicine. He paused. If Bai Ting had breast cancer, would he someday again be registering for a specialist in respiratory medicine?
He had made up his mind: he couldn’t hide it. He had to tell Huo Zongzuo.
The night before Bai Ting’s surgery, Huo Zongzuo’s plane landed, and he came straight to the hospital. Bai Ting, aware of how busy he was and how he was flying back and forth for her, felt a pang of guilt.
“I need to tell you something,” Jiang Luo said.
After leaving the hospital and getting into the car, Jiang Luo spoke to Huo Zongzuo beforehand.
“What’s wrong?” Huo Zongzuo asked, attentive to every word.
Jiang Luo’s expression was calm. “Let’s go home. I’ll tell you there.”
Huo Zongzuo naturally asked, “Good news or bad news?”
Jiang Luo thought for a moment. “Not exactly bad news.”
But it wasn’t exactly good news either.
Once home at Yinhu, Jiang Luo hadn’t even taken off his shoes before he faced Huo Zongzuo, resting his hands on his shoulders. After a moment’s pause, he looked up steadily and said, “Do you remember? I once told you about the TV tower, what happened in ’95, and then ’96…”
“Mm,” Huo Zongzuo replied, remembering vividly—even recalling that night when Jiang Luo had played Mariage d’Amour for him.
“I… actually…” Jiang Luo hesitated, looking down briefly before meeting Huo Zongzuo’s gaze again. Calmly, he said, “I actually lied to you back then.”
“What?”
“I didn’t lie to avoid telling you what happened in the two thousand years…” Jiang Luo paused, and Huo Zongzuo remained silent, waiting.
“I lied not because I didn’t want to tell you,” Jiang Luo admitted, “but because I didn’t know.”
He felt a pang of guilt. What he was about to say would be cruel, he realized, and he hated the thought of hurting Huo Zongzuo—but he had to.
“I didn’t live through those two thousand years. I didn’t know what major events happened that year.”
He looked at Huo Zongzuo, a shadow of sadness briefly crossing his face. His emotions surged uncontrollably, and his eyes reddened. “Because at that time… I was sick.”
“I died a few days before New Year’s Eve in ’99, in Beijing, at Xiehe Hospital.”
Finally, he whispered the two words he had long avoided:
“Lung cancer.”
What, then, is fate? Jiang Luo truly felt bewildered.
Everything had changed—but why did Bai Ting still get cancer?
Must fate always kick at people just when their lives are smooth and happy?
Couldn’t it allow those who should be happy to remain happy forever?
And him?
He had worked so hard to change everything, to walk a path completely different from his past, to go so far—yet how would fate strike at his life?
Would he… get cancer again?
If that were true, if he really got lung cancer again, what would Huo Zongzuo do? What about the one he loved most?
The thought made Jiang Luo’s chest tighten, as if a knife hung over his head.
Yet fate had also given him a second chance—rebirth.
Wasn’t that so?
Wasn’t it?!
Why treat him this way? Why!?
Seeing the unprecedented sadness in Huo Zongzuo’s expression, Jiang Luo could not imagine what would happen if he were to get cancer again, if he were to die on that same New Year’s Eve in ’99. Huo Zongzuo loved him so much.
When Jiang Luo finished speaking, Huo Zongzuo was stunned. His eyes and expression blank for a moment.
Jiang Luo felt even worse. “I warned Wang Chuang, told him to take Aunt Bai for annual checkups, especially for gynecological issues. I thought if I came back, everything would change. I thought if we paid attention early, this disease wouldn’t happen again. I… I tried to be extra careful. I stopped smoking, even when cravings hit, I chewed candy. I thought I could change her fate, change mine, but…”
Huo Zongzuo pulled him into a tight embrace, voice trembling with fear: “Stop saying it, stop saying it. It won’t happen. You have already changed everyone’s fate! Wang Chuang’s mother won’t die! You won’t get cancer again! And I won’t let you leave me!”
“After Bai Ting’s surgery, once everything is settled, we’ll go to Beijing, Xiehe Hospital, for a full-body checkup,” he continued decisively.
“If there’s anything wrong, we’ll start treatment early, and it will be cured! You will never have that illness again! Even if you did, I would treat you myself!”
Jiang Luo had never seen Huo Zongzuo like this. His nose tingled with emotion. “Huo Zongzuo… I don’t want to die. I don’t want to leave you.”
“You won’t,” Huo Zongzuo whispered, holding him tighter. “I will never let you leave me. Nothing will happen to you.”
They stayed in each other’s arms for a long while. Only now did Huo Zongzuo truly understand what Bai Ting’s cancer meant.
At this moment, Huo Zongzuo wished even more than Jiang Luo that Bai Ting’s treatment would be successful and that she would be safe. Panic and fear twisted in his heart, lingering long after.
Later that night, lying in bed together, Jiang Luo mentioned briefly what had happened when he first got sick in his previous life:
“At first, it was just a cold, a cough that wouldn’t go away. By the time I saw a doctor, it was almost mid-stage. I stayed in Haicheng, but the disease progressed quickly. Someone helped me transfer to Beijing Xiehe, but it was useless. I could feel myself weakening day by day. A few days before New Year’s Eve, I was in a daze—I knew I was about to die. Then, suddenly, I opened my eyes… and I came back.”
Huo Zongzuo held him tightly, kissed his forehead firmly. “Nothing will happen to you. Even if it did, I will find the best doctors, the best medicine, and I will cure you.”
Jiang Luo closed his eyes. “I don’t understand. Everything has changed… why is this the only thing that hasn’t?”
“I never want to die more than now,” he whispered. “I want to stay with you… to see the world two thousand years from now.”
“You will,” Huo Zongzuo said. “We will always be together.”
Bai Ting’s surgery was a complete success. The doctors said the tumor had clear margins and was entirely removed. Prognosis for a full recovery would be excellent.
Everyone rejoiced. Wang Chuang knelt outside the operating room, repeatedly bowing to heaven.
Jiang Luo and Huo Zongzuo exchanged a glance. They understood each other perfectly—in moments like this, only a prayer to the heavens would do.
After ensuring Bai Ting was settled, Huo Zongzuo bought tickets and planned to take Jiang Luo to Beijing immediately.
But before boarding, Jiang Luo hesitated. “Let’s go back to Haicheng first.”
“What’s wrong?” Huo Zongzuo asked, sensing concern.
“I’m a bit afraid of Xiehe,” Jiang Luo explained. “I had so many medications and injections there before. I don’t want to be reminded of the past.”
Huo Zongzuo understood completely. “My fault—I only wanted the best hospital. I didn’t think about this.”
“No need. Anywhere works for the checkup.”
So they changed course, flying back to Haicheng.
Once there, Huo Zongzuo asked about Jiang Luo’s previous hospital, and they bypassed it, going directly to Zhongshan.
At Zhongshan, Huo Zongzuo arranged in advance for an expert appointment in the respiratory department. They were escorted straight in, no waiting, directly to the on-duty specialist.
The doctor was not Huang Bingbing from before, but a middle-aged male chief physician. He listened to Jiang Luo’s heart and lungs and found no issues. He then ordered a series of examinations.
Later, sitting outside waiting for the results, Jiang Luo looked at Huo Zongzuo. “Are we both a little on edge?”
Huo Zongzuo smiled. “This time, the idiom is appropriate.”