"It's too late. Haven't you noticed the obvious symptoms all this time?"
"I did, but I thought it was just a sore throat, so..."
"It's already in the late stages. You've been coughing for years, haven't you? If you had just come for a check-up earlier, we could have caught it in time." The doctor sighed, his slightly annoyed tone laced with regret.
Jackson's explanation gave the doctor a headache.
He couldn't understand why someone would cough for so long—especially since Jackson had started coughing up blood six months ago—yet still stubbornly refused to come to the hospital until now.
"Let me guess," the doctor exhaled heavily. "It's a family issue, isn't it?"
Jackson was momentarily surprised, then nodded.
"You have about five months left. Go do whatever you want to do."
"Okay, thank you, Doctor."
Jackson smiled as if nothing had happened, thanked the doctor politely, and walked out of the hospital.
November's climate should have been warm, yet today, it felt particularly harsh.
It stung his eyes until they turned red, blurring his vision.
Just as the doctor said, his family was never warm. It was as cold and suffocating as an ice cellar.
In a normal family, if a child coughed frequently, taking them to the doctor would be the natural response.
Even if it wasn't serious—what if it lasted a year? Two years? Three years?
At that point, any parent with even the slightest love for their child would take them to the hospital, right?
But his parents never did.
He had been coughing up blood for six months. It was getting worse.
He told them. They even saw it with their own eyes.
And their response?
"Cough, cough, cough! That's all you do! You'll make yourself sick just from coughing so much! Can't you just endure it? You'll get better in a few days! Stop making such a fuss! So dramatic!"
Cold. Dismissive. Uncaring.
Willow had expected that reaction. Yet every time he heard those words from his own parents, he couldn't help but feel like he was just... extra.
Over the years, he'd asked himself the same questions over and over again—
Was he really being too dramatic?
Was he really insensible?
Would everything be better when he grew up?
When he realized his parents would never spend money on a doctor, he quietly started saving up on his own.
Willow thought—
"When I cure this disease, I'll become an adult. I'll work hard. I'll make a lot of money. I'll..."
But no one expected this.
The first gift he received on his eighteenth birthday was a confirmed diagnosis of late-stage lung cancer.
Willow couldn't help but think—
Was God playing a joke on him?
A joke that went way too far.
"Cough, cough..."
The tissue in his hand was stained bright red.
He stared at it in confusion.
He didn't know where to go or what to do.
Willow had always dreamed of becoming a singer.
During countless lonely nights, in his most helpless moments...
Music had always been there for him.
Only music could understand the emotions in his heart.
But that dream had been crushed before it could even begin.
[Ding~ It has been detected that the host has little time left, but the dream still exists.]
[Sailing for Dreams has been activated.]
[Opening the newbie gift pack...]
[Master-level musical instrument: Any instrument will be perfect in your hands.]
[Perfect-level timbre: Your voice can achieve perfection in any song.]
[Picture-level singing skills: Your voice can immerse listeners completely, creating vivid imagery in their minds.]
[Late-stage cancer all-inclusive package: Parallel world music library, lyrics, tuning, melody, copyright, accompaniment, automatic uploads to all platforms, traffic amplification, etc...]
A glimmer of light flickered in Willow's dull, lost eyes.
A massive amount of professional knowledge flooded his mind.
This wasn't a dream. It was real.
"Cough... cough, cough..."
"Even so... can I still sing?" Willow asked cautiously.
He hated this uncontrollable cough more than anything.
He was afraid his dream would be ruined before it even started.
If that were the case... he'd rather not have the dream at all.
At school, he'd been reported by other parents for his cough.
Disturbing lunch breaks. Disturbing class. Disturbing studies.
The head teacher had called his parents multiple times, but they never took it seriously.
And when the school finally expelled him, he was beaten half to death.
"If you cough today, I'll slap you!"
"As long as you're not suffocating, hold it in! Even if you suffocate, don't cough!"
"I don't believe this! I *will* fix you!"
His father, unable to stand the sound of his cough, ordered him to stop.
The result? A brutal beating.
His body was covered in bloody welts. He trembled all over.
In his final fit of rage, his father pressed a hand over his mouth and nose.
If his mother hadn't intervened in time, he might have died that night.
From that day forward, he never went back to school.
But he was too young to find a job—who would hire a kid who coughed constantly?
His parents didn't want him sitting around at home, so they brought back a second-hand computer from his uncle's place.
They'd heard that live streaming made money.
"As long as you're not idle, earn whatever you can."
[The host will not be interrupted by coughing while singing.]
[However, the coughing will accumulate and erupt all at once after the song ends.]
[If the host wants to sing, he must be mentally prepared for a violent coughing fit afterward.]
"I see..."
"Then I'm relieved."
For the first time in a long while, Wen He felt a spark of hope.
He turned around and walked home.
Willow had no real-life friends.
But online, he had met some really good ones.
They were all viewers of his tiny live stream.
Only a dozen or so people in total, but to Willow, they were his most precious treasures.
When he got home, he quickly turned on his computer.
His parents weren't back yet—one of the rare times he had peace.
"Wren, why are you streaming so early today? Good thing I'm free, or I would've missed it!"
"Didn't you say you had a hospital check-up today? How was it? Nothing serious, right?"
"You guys are back at it again with the chat, huh?"
The stream had barely started, but the chat was already lively.
There were only a handful of viewers, but they filled the space with endless chatter.
"I went for a check-up today. It's nothing serious. The doctor prescribed some medicine, and I'll be fine soon."
On screen, Willow's character—a soft, gentle 2D boy—mimicked his movements.
In the live-streaming world, this was called a model, an avatar that moved with the streamer.
He didn't dare let them see him coughing up blood.
"I knew it! Wren is such a gentle soul, there's no way anything bad would happen to him!"
A comment popped up immediately.
"To celebrate, I'll sing a song for you guys today." Willow smiled.
"This song is called—"
[ Fix you ]