I numbly finished all the tests, waiting for the doctor's verdict.

I thought, if it really was cancer, dying might not be so bad.

But fate loved to play cruel jokes.

The doctor told me it was a benign tumor that had been in my stomach for a long time.

I was lucky—it hadn't turned malignant. Once it was removed, I'd be fine.

The doctor asked, "Has your family member arrived yet?"

I shook my head, my heart cold as ash. "I have no family. I'll sign myself."

As the anesthesia kicked in and I drifted off to sleep, only one thought echoed in my mind:

"My love for Li Ranran—along with this benign tumor—disappears today."

This time, I saw the truth clearly. I no longer wanted to crave her meager affection.

When I woke up after the surgery, the caregiver I'd hired before the operation was by my side.

She smiled and said, "You're awake! Do you feel any better?"

She hurried to get me water, then dipped a cotton swab in it and gently moistened my dry lips, chattering away.

"The doctor said you can't drink or eat for a while. I can only moisten your lips with a cotton swab for now."

"I'll go get you porridge later. Close your eyes and rest a bit more."

Listening to her rambling, my heart warmed.

It had been so long since I'd felt cared for—so long since I'd felt at peace. I drifted off to sleep easily.

In my dream, I went back to the past.

Li Ranran and I had met in our third year of college—at a café where I worked part-time.

She'd come there every day, specifically asking for coffee I made.

At first, I thought she was just a spoiled young lady having fun, but she chased after me relentlessly.

She'd bring me homemade cookies, and show up with medicine when I had a cold.

Before long, I agreed to be with her.

After graduation, when our love was at its strongest, I proposed to her.

She hesitated for a moment, saying she needed to call her parents first.

When she came back from the call, she threw her arms around me, tears streaming down her face. "I love you! Let's get married!"

After we got married, I worked tirelessly to give her a better life—to prove to her family that I could take care of her.

My stomach problem probably developed from all that stress.

For the first two years, we were inseparable—so in love, talking for hours every day.

But everything changed when Fu Sizhe came back.

A notification sound woke me up from my dream. It was a message from Li Ranran:

"Sorry, I was so tired last night and it was getting late. Uncle and Auntie asked me to stay at Fu's house."

"You didn't call, so I guess you didn't need me to come over?"

So she hadn't come home last night.

And neither had I.

Had it been the Fu family who asked her to stay, or Fu Sizhe himself?

Did it even matter anymore? No…

My hands trembling, I typed three words: "Let's get divorced."