"Y-You... What's wrong? What's happening? Why are you suddenly spitting up blood?" the woman asked, panicking.
"It's nothing. The doctor said it's terminal lung cancer. I don't have many days left. A friend brought me here this time, sort of to look back on the past. After this, I can go back and peacefully wait for death."
Zhou Fan forced a bitter smile onto his lips, as if it took all his strength. He raised a hand to gently stroke the woman's long hair, his voice suddenly turning world-weary. "But seeing that you're living a normal life, I'm truly relieved. Promise me you'll live on and be strong. Forget me... forget this fleeting passerby in your life!"
As he finished speaking, Zhou Fan seemed to exhaust his last ounce of strength. The hand stroking her hair fell limp, his head slumped forward, and he slowly closed his eyes.
In that instant, it wasn't just the woman—Chu Qianqian and Fan were stunned too.
