It hurt so much.

Worse than when the illness flares up.

It hurt so much that I almost cried.

I stayed silent, but the lady next to me wasn't pleased. She blocked Carl's path.

"Young man, how can you speak like that? Do you want us to report you?"

After being hospitalized for so long, the other patients had become like family.

They pitied me for being so young and alone; they would even bring me a bowl of dumplings whenever they made some.

Now that they thought I was being bullied, they couldn't help but stand up for me.

"Still acting, huh? Do you want the whole world to revolve around you?"

Carl stopped in his tracks, his beautiful eyes as cold as the moon in the sky.

"Just one month... one last month, and then I'll never bother you again!"

I tried to put on a relaxed front as I pulled out a stack of cash from my wallet.

Luckily, I had saved up some money over the years; otherwise, I wouldn't even have the chance to keep Carl around now.

Carl stared at me for a long time without taking the money.

"Fine. I'm curious to see how long you can keep up this act."

Suddenly, my hand started to tremble uncontrollably.

The money scattered across the floor, and my body began to collapse forward.

Carl instinctively caught me, but then, as if shocked by electricity, he pushed me back.

"Six years, and your prideful attitude hasn't changed a bit."

In the moment he held me, I caught the sweet scent of his cologne.

It smelled wonderful, like the scent of life itself, reminding me of when I used to stand in the spotlight wearing my dance costume.

Now, there was someone else by his side—she must be a graceful, elegant girl, fresh and fragrant.

"You should go now. I'll call you if I need anything."

Carl walked away without looking back, stepping on the money scattered on the floor.

I couldn't get out of bed, so I asked the neighbor lady to pick up the money for me.

As I looked at the bills stained with footprints, tears started falling uncontrollably.

There were things in this world that money couldn't buy.

I could pay for a caregiver's time,

But I could never bring Carl back into my life.

Carl's job was simple.

He brought me three meals a day, made sure I took my medication.

Occasionally, he pushed me outside for some fresh air.

Once his tasks were done, he would leave without saying a word to me.

The neighbor lady said I was wasting my money. "You should have him stay with you 24 hours. Look at you—you're almost getting bedsores."

"I can hire someone else for other things."

I said, lowering my head in embarrassment.

It wasn't that I had money to burn.

I just... I just didn't want Carl to see what I had become.

Under my clothes, my muscles had atrophied, my skin had lost its elasticity.

I was incontinent, and my body reeked.

I could endure the physical pain of my illness,

But I couldn't bear the humiliation.

I wanted Carl's last memory of me to be of someone beautiful.

Having Carl with me in my final days was enough.

I didn't dare ask for more; I didn't deserve to.

That afternoon, Carl brought me braised beef for lunch, but I couldn't chew it at all.

I remembered how my mother's braised beef was the best when I was a child. My father and I would always fight for the last piece.

Suddenly, I wanted to go home. I asked Carl to take me back.

I missed my mom.

"That's not part of my job."

"If you take me home, your work for the day will be done," I said with a smile. "That way... you won't have to see me as much."

Carl hesitated for a moment but finally agreed.

I gave him the address of my new home—it wasn't the upscale neighborhood from before but an old, rundown building in a remote area.

The apartment was on the first floor, but there were still a few steps in front of the building.

Carl couldn't find a ramp for the disabled, so he bent down and lifted me in his arms.

As I lay in his embrace, for a moment, it felt like old times...

But as soon as he opened the door, Carl's face darkened.

He frowned at the man in an apron standing inside.

"Who are you?"

The man didn't answer but took me from Carl's arms.

With a loud bang, he shut the door.

"Patrick, why are you here?"

I mumbled softly, but my eyes couldn't help but glance at the peephole.

Carl hadn't left; he stood at my door with his fists clenched.

He looked almost exactly like he did six years ago.

That day, Carl stood at my front door with a ring, kneeling to propose to me.

The bright light shone on his face, and his eyes sparkled like stars in the sky.

But I told Carl, "Let's break up. You can't give me what I want."

The light in his eyes instantly dimmed.

He didn't say anything and stood at my door for a long, long time.

When I finally opened the door again, my young love had already left me forever.

A vast distance had formed between us, and a wall had grown around our hearts.

Even if the seas and mountains could be flattened, that wall would be hard to overcome.

"I came to check on your grandmother."

Patrick's voice brought me back to reality.

My grandmother came over, urging me to keep Patrick company while she busied herself in the kitchen.

It hadn't been long since I last saw her, but my grandmother's back seemed to have grown even more hunched.

"Has your condition improved?"

As soon as he spoke, my mother's voice echoed from the bedroom.

Hysterical, almost insane.

"Janet, who told you to come back? Get out, get out! I hate you! I hate you! If it weren't for you, your father and I wouldn't be like this. I don't want to see you! Get out!"

My grandmother dropped her spatula with a clatter and hurried to the bedroom.

She closed the door tightly, but the harsh words still slipped through the cracks and into my ears.

Patrick looked awkward, as if he wanted to comfort me.

"It's okay. There's a good chance this illness can be cured."

"30% chance of lifelong paralysis, 30% chance of complications, 30%..." I paused, "Do you think I could be one of those 10% against all odds?"

Patrick didn't speak for a long time.

We had once been dance partners for many years, and now he was the only one who still visited me.

"I'll help you get in touch with an experienced doctor of traditional Chinese medicine."

"Sure."

I wanted to live.

If possible...

Patrick went to help in the kitchen.

When all the dishes were finally served, my grandmother came out of the bedroom.

Her cloudy eyes were brimming with tears. "Janet, don't hold it against your mom."

I nodded and took a bite of the beef stew, but it was a bit overcooked.

No one spoke during the meal.

My grandmother hesitated before asking, "Janet, have you made up with that boy?"