After being diagnosed with terminal cancer, I was spending my days in a hospital ward. One day, the weather was beautiful. Rare for me, I put on some makeup. I took a selfie. "Do I look pretty today?" Many strangers liked the post. Then, Lucas Thorne's sister, Mia, popped up in the comments. "Ugly as hell. Do you think my brother will change his mind? You don't deserve him." After a while, I replied. "I don't need him to change his mind." 1 My oncologist sighed heavily. "Where is your family?" I shook my head. "I don't have any family." "None? How is that possible?" "They're very busy. They don't have time for me. Doctor, I'm going back to my room." Leaving the doctor sighing behind me, I returned to the ward. The lady in the next bed, Martha, looked at me with concern. "How was it, honey? Any good news?" I shook my head. "It's getting worse." But I didn't feel too sad about it. Martha and the family visiting the patient by the window froze. I saw pity in their eyes. It was almost lunchtime. Suddenly, I didn't want the hospital cafeteria food. The man Martha was caring for, Bill, also hated the cafeteria. I took two hundred dollars out of my wallet. "Martha, when you go home to cook later, can you buy some extra ribs? I really want to eat braised ribs." She paused for a second. "Sure. I'll make a big pot today. Don't go to the cafeteria, honey. I'll cook, and we can all eat together." Martha went home to cook. 2 At noon. Our ward was filled with the savory aroma of braised pork ribs and radishes. The ribs were stewed until they were fall-off-the-bone tender. As I ate, tears fell into my bowl. I lifted the bowl higher to hide my face. "Slow down, there's plenty more. I brought the whole crockpot." I waited until my eyes were dry before putting down the bowl. In the end, I didn't have a second serving. In my memories, whenever I refused to eat as a child, my mom would make rib soup for me. The radishes she picked were always so sweet. Since she passed away, I hadn't tasted that flavor again. But today, Martha’s cooking brought that long-lost taste back to me. Martha refused to take the two hundred dollars. So, I ordered a lot of fruit on Uber Eats and left it in the ward for everyone to share. Our room was known as the "Death Ward." All three of us had terminal bone cancer. Martha, who was massaging Bill’s legs, suddenly sighed. "Honey, you should ask to switch rooms." I was confused. "That bed of yours... it's bad luck. The last one..." I understood. The last person in that bed didn't make it out of the hospital. Rumor had it she was a successful career woman in her early thirties. I shook my head. "I don't believe in that stuff." Actually, there were VIP suites available, and the doctor had recommended them. But I went to look. Everything was nice, but the single room was too lonely. I felt that a shared room like this was better. I could listen to people chat during the day. It felt more alive. After guarding an empty mansion alone for three years, I was truly sick of solitude. I craved the noise of life. 3 When Lucas called, I was sleeping. "You're not home?" I opened my eyes, my voice thick with sleep. "Mm." "I brought Chloe over. Don't give her any trouble." I didn't argue. "Okay." "You're agreeing that easily this time?" "Anything else? If not, I'm hanging up." "Hanging up?" "Hmph. Sarah, if you play games with me again—acting one way to my face and another behind my back—I won't let you off this time." I didn't want to listen anymore. I hung up. I stared at the silent TV screen. Chloe was Lucas's mistress. She was "prepared" for him at a business dinner. It wasn't the first time something like that happened, but before that night, Lucas had never touched anyone. But Chloe, with her classical elegance, succeeded. They say she performed a traditional dance at the banquet and captured everyone's heart. She also captured Lucas's bed. I didn't understand. Why? Lucas hadn't even been drinking that night. How did they end up together? Growing up, people always said I was slow to react. Before that, I never doubted Lucas's feelings for me. We were childhood sweethearts. We grew up together. When we were very young, he said he would marry me. When I found out he had been keeping Chloe for a while, I trembled. I couldn't believe it. It felt like my world had collapsed. I cried, I fought. But the more I fought, the more impatient he became. Later, he gave all his tenderness to Chloe. I felt old. But I was only twenty-six. Lucas forbade me from seeing Chloe. He forbade anyone around him from mentioning her. But eventually, I saw her. And after that meeting, Chloe had a miscarriage. It was said to be a boy. Lucas slapped me first. Then his mother, Mrs. Thorne, slapped me ten times. Even though I said I didn't do it. No one believed me. If this were ancient times, I would have been banished to the Cold Palace. After that, the Thorne family never invited me to dinner again. I stayed alone in the empty mansion. Lucas didn't come back. In those lonely days, I occasionally dreamed. I dreamed of my late parents. I dreamed of when Lucas and I were young, our first meeting on a sunny afternoon. He said, "Sarah Vance, your name is really pretty." I woke up, my face wet with tears. I slowly opened the curtains and continued to waste away my days. At first, I couldn't take it. I wanted a divorce. I wanted to go abroad and start a new life. But facing the immense wealth of the Thorne family, my family didn't dare support my divorce. They ignored my divorce papers. They just waited me out. A mansion, a living allowance—they trapped me with minimal cost. 4 Suddenly, there was a commotion in the hallway. I peeked out. "What happened?" Martha rushed in, shaking her head. "Don't look." Then, the sound of crying arose. A bed covered with a white sheet was wheeled away, surrounded by people. I froze. I became even more silent. Here, it seemed someone left every few days. Sometimes, two in one day. Yesterday, the whole floor was peacefully happy. Many people came to ask for Martha's rib soup. There was laughter in the hallway. Martha sighed as she tidied up. "It's almost the Mid-Autumn Festival. That family just wanted to make it to the holiday. Fate is too cruel." Thinking of this, Martha looked at Bill on the bed, turned away, and wiped her eyes. When she turned back, she was smiling again. "For the festival, what kind of mooncakes do you all want? I'll go home and bake them." The lady caring for the patient in the other bed, who was older, said, "You're tired enough. Don't bother." "It's no bother. I'm happy to do it. Whoever eats my mooncakes has to live a long life." The ward fell silent again. Everyone lowered their heads. It was Bill who held Martha's hand. "Silly old woman." 5 The Mid-Autumn Festival arrived. Martha stuffed two mooncakes into my hand. They were the traditional kind. I tore open the wrapper. In the ward, we were all eating. But everyone was taking small bites. First, no appetite. Second, no strength. Just going through the motions for the holiday. Finally, I couldn't help but let a tear fall. "Mom, don't give me mooncakes. I don't like them." "Mooncakes symbolize family reunion. Even if you don't like them, you have to eat one." In my memory, my mom gently pinched the bridge of my nose. I was so small then. I took big bites of the mooncake. With my mouth full, I slowly chewed and swallowed. But then I choked up. On the TV, the news was showing the Thorne family banquet. A huge round table, a feast fit for an emperor. I bit my lip. In the center of the screen were Mr. and Mrs. Thorne. Next to them was Lucas. The woman in the qipao next to him didn't show her face, only her fair wrist. The shot on the left cut off there. But on the right, all the uncles and cousins were shown. I turned my head, mouth full, and looked out the window. In past years, the Thornes always had grand celebrations and valued family rules. But I didn't expect them to allow media coverage this time. That woman next to him was Chloe. She loved qipaos.

? Continue the story here ?? ? Download the "MotoNovel" app ? search for "390681", and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel