At the Headquarters of the Kyoto Military District Hospital, in the room of the esteemed Long Lao...
Long Lao looked at the test results in his hand with a touch of playful irony.
"Dr. Wang, are you sure there's no mistake? Just two years ago, I ran a full marathon!"
Dr. Wang, with a bitter expression, wished fervently that he had made a mistake.
"Academician Long, we've conducted two thorough tests for you... and the results are identical."
Seeing the solemnity in Dr. Wang's face, it was clear he wasn't joking. Long Lao's heart tightened. He furrowed his brows and glanced again at the report.
It read: Late-stage liver cancer.
Late-stage cancer?
Long Lao had always taken good care of his health. Never in his wildest dreams had he imagined he would be diagnosed with cancer.
Still in disbelief, he looked up at Dr. Wang and asked,
"Dr. Wang, surely there should have been symptoms before reaching late-stage liver cancer? But I haven't felt anything unusual!"
"Academician Long, the early stages of liver cancer often have no symptoms. It's only in the middle or late stages that symptoms like liver pain and loss of appetite become apparent."
Long Lao thought back, trying to recall his symptoms over the past two years. He had indeed experienced occasional stomach pains, but he had attributed them to his chronic gastritis, a long-standing issue.
"But Dr. Wang, that's strange. The stomach pain has been intermittent, and each time I took some antacids, it subsided."
"Antacids are mildly alkaline and contain calcium carbonate, which can ease the pain from the liver as well."
Listening to Dr. Wang's explanation, Long Lao could now see how the symptoms aligned perfectly with his own experiences. He had no choice but to accept the grim reality.
A sense of despondency settled over Long Lao. He knew enough about late-stage cancer to understand that without treatment, survival was unlikely, and life expectancy was limited.
Seeing Long Lao's somber expression, Dr. Wang's own heart ached.
"Academician Long, you must keep a positive mindset and cooperate with the treatment. We still have a chance to halt the spread of the cancer cells."
Dr. Wang's voice lacked conviction, for he knew that, at this stage, the prognosis was bleak. On average, patients with late-stage liver cancer had a life expectancy of just five more months. If the cancer were in the middle stage, there would be a small chance of recovery through medication and surgery—but at this point, nothing could save Long Lao.
"Dr. Wang, how long do I have?"
"With aggressive treatment, perhaps one or two more years," Dr. Wang said, trying to offer a more optimistic outlook.
"I understand."
Long Lao nodded and waved his hand, signaling that he wanted some solitude.
Dr. Wang, seeing the sadness on Long Lao's face, shook his head and walked out of the room. The door clicked shut behind him, leaving Long Lao alone in the quiet room.
He reclined slightly in his bed, his gaze drifting to the window.
It was late autumn, and the winds howled through the trees. One solitary leaf hung stubbornly on a branch, trembling as the gusts blew. The leaf swayed precariously, but it didn't fall.
During a brief lull in the wind, it seemed to regain strength, still and silent, gathering its resolve.
The sky was overcast, a dark gray mass of clouds looming ominously, as if preparing for a heavy downpour.
Long Lao found himself oddly concerned for the leaf, wondering if the coming storm would tear it from the tree.
He quickly refocused his attention, only to watch as a strong gust of wind suddenly whipped the leaf about.
It was a bittersweet sight—the leaf, resilient in its struggle, seemed to push against the harsh winds. But in the end, it couldn't withstand nature's force. The branch released it, and it flew into the air, disappearing from his view.
Long Lao let out a heavy sigh. The leaf, in the end, couldn't fight its fate, just as no one could resist the inevitable passage of time.
Reflecting on his life, Long Lao found little room for regret. He had given everything for his country's cause, making countless contributions. If death were his fate now, he had made peace with it.
Perhaps, in the grand scheme of things, life had been generous to him. In his final moments, he had met Jiang Fan, a young man of extraordinary talent. Long Lao believed that, with enough time, Jiang Fan would lead their country to become a technological powerhouse.
His only regret was that he would never live to see that day.
Knock, knock!
The sound of knocking brought Long Lao's thoughts back to the present.
He looked toward the door.
The door opened, and a small, familiar head popped in.
Seeing the visitor, Long Lao's gloom lifted, and a wide, genuine smile spread across his face.
"Little Xi, do you not have class this afternoon?"
"Grandpa Long, I'm in my first year. My classes aren't many, hehe..."
Chu Ruoxi, with a mischievous smile, walked in carrying a small bag.
"Grandpa Long, today I brought you your favorite sweet persimmon cakes!"
She pulled the cakes from the bag, still steaming, and the sweet fragrance filled the room.
Long Lao's stomach rumbled at the familiar scent.
"You little rascal, you've made me hungry!" he chuckled.
Long Lao took a piece of the cake, breaking it in half and handing one half to Chu Ruoxi.
"Little Xi, you should have some too!"
"Mm!"
YOU ARE READING
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