"I told you to co back for treatnt over six months ago, but you insisted on staying outside. You’d probably be happy dying out there," Tu Kuan played another black stone, blocking Quan Jin’s white stone.
A ga of Gomoku, yet presented like a Go board.
Quan Jin said nothing, silently playing his moves.
As Quan Jin raised his hand to place a piece, the bell on his wrist jingled with a crisp sound, surprisingly pleasant.
Tu Kuan had long disliked that bell, but didn’t dare to ask this ancestor to remove it, lest he throw a fit.
As the ga continued, Tu Kuan extended his hand, and Quan Jin reached out, allowing Tu Kuan to lift his sleeve and inspect his inner arm. After looking, Tu Kuan said, "Judging by your condition, you probably have at most two or three months left."
Quan Jin responded with a murmur, pulling his sleeve back down: "So you’re saying it’s ti to start preparing for the funeral, huh?"
Tu Kuan: "I’ll think of sothing."
Quan Jin: "Alright."
Other people being too calm would seem abnormal.
But for Quan Jin, being too calm is actually normal.
Seeing how composed he was, Tu Kuan felt the need to remind him, "You have to understand, I’m saying you’ve got two or three months left to live. If the dication still doesn’t work by then, there’s only one road left for you."
Quan Jin continued to respond slowly with a murmur, as if his life wasn’t the one hanging by a thread.
Tu Kuan understood Chi Yu well, so he ntioned soone who might provoke an emotional reaction from him.
"The deceased are gradually forgotten year by year, until a few years later, almost no one rembers their appearance. The person you care about will also forget you, Quan Jin. How would that feel? She will forget you."
The hand holding Quan Jin’s white stone paused mid-air.
He looked up, his long, thick eyelashes trembling slightly, his deep pupils gazed directly at Tu Kuan across from him, swallowing slightly, he struggled to get a few words out: "Not feeling good."
"So now that you’re back, just accept the treatnt peacefully, and don’t run off again, okay?" Tu Kuan tried to persuade him.
Quan Jin murmured: "Alright."
No matter what Tu Kuan said at this point, Quan Jin agreed very cooperatively.
But how could Tu Kuan not understand that Quan Jin’s words could only be half-believed? His sincerity was reserved for only one woman. Tu Kuan had seen that woman, when he quietly went to Sui City —
I must admit, she was truly beautiful.
Is this what they an by heroes bowing down for beautiful won??
The thing is, Quan Jin... doesn’t really count as a hero, just a privileged young master born into the right family.
But Quan Jin wasn’t blessed; he was born with a short life, and that line on his arm was his lifeline. Tu Kuan wasn’t a strict materialist; he believed in those inexplicable things.
And Quan Jin was just that inexplicable, unexplainable existence.
Unbelievable, right?
Yes!
At first, Tu Kuan also found it unbelievable.
But it was true.
And Quan Jin himself realized early on that he wouldn’t live long.
However, over six months ago, when Tu Kuan was using Quan Jin’s genes to research against the drug, he discovered that Quan Jin’s organs were already starting to fail. His constitution would be weaker by a factor of two, three... until the day organ failure led to death.
Thinking about it, Tu Kuan’s mind began to get excited again.
For the seventh ti, he said to Quan Jin, "If you end up dying, I suggest you donate your body for national research. Mainly because your genetics are such a rare find, what do you think?"
Quan Jin took a sip of water: "Cut up and soaked in formalin, or put in a dical school classroom for hundreds to witness the dissection?"
"..." Tu Kuan chuckled awkwardly, "Oh, you’re overthinking it. Private research, they wouldn’t easily make your body public."
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