"Today's blood oxygen is 76%, but the sunflowers outside the window are blooming. Thanks to the stranger who sent 487 postcards, I chose three to be buried with me."
"Please hang the food on the door and don't knock. If the food is still here in three days, please contact my sister at 138xxxx."
"To HR: My employee ID badge is on the edge of the 23rd-floor rooftop, please don't let the cleaning lady be frightened. The code backup is in the 'Unfinished' folder on drive D."
"My lungs are full of late-stage cancer cells, but just now a passenger said, 'Driver, drive steady, my wife is about to give delivery!' This shift was worth standing."
......
This was a fragment of life, and also a terminal logbook passed around in the terminal ward. Every page inside recorded a story, and the new page was about to be my story.
Looking at the hibiscus flowers about to bloom outside the window, I began to hold the pen and write on the new page:
"Please transplant my heart to the girl in bed 7." Perhaps feeling that there were still regrets in life, I pondered for a moment and continued to add:
"Today she asked me, 'Do you dream of the sound of the chemotherapy machine when you sleep?' Actually, I wanted to answer that I dream of you every night."
I closed this diary with both hands and placed it carefully on the floor. I knew that this diary would continue to be placed on the storage cabinet in the ward after my death.
I am very afraid of pain, so I came to the roof of the inpatient building, but I was also afraid of smashing the heart into pieces, after all, it is more than 20 stories high.
However, I had Plan B. I took out the scalpel I had swiped from the operating room and smoothly made a cut on my wrist.
A chill began to spread along with the outflow of bright red blood. No pain, no fear, only endless regret.
The mobile phone beside my body had already drafted and scheduled a text message:
"Doctor Chen, I am on the rooftop. Please don't tell her this is my heart."
I believe Doctor Chen understands what I am talking about. After all, I had hinted and stated clearly many times that I wanted to transplant my heart to that girl.
Although it is better to live a wretched life than to die a good death, once life reaches a dead end, only death is a release.
In the final moments, I only hoped she would live well. After all, how lucky it is to see a glimmer of light in a gloomy life.
As my consciousness dissipated, I seemed to see the dazzling lights in the operating room and felt the girl on the other operating table beside me. I smiled with relief. I was very satisfied with ending life this way.
"Fan-ge, wake up quickly!"
"Call the rescue helicopter, something's happened!"
...
One anxious voice after another rang in my ears. Feeling the warmth coming from my body, I opened my eyes in disbelief.
"He's awake, Fan-ge is awake!"
A girl with red, crying eyes was shaking my body desperately, and she didn't let go until I woke up.
"The helicopter will be here soon, Fan-ge, hold on, you'll be fine soon."
"What happened to me?"
A sharp pain came from my chest. I didn't know if this came from my heart being taken away, but I knew that at this moment, a powerful heart was beating in my body.
I was alive, and I had been reborn. Although it sounded absurd, this was the fact.
"Don't talk, Fan-ge, we know the bitterness in your heart, but you shouldn't come to a place like this. If Mu'er hadn't kept tracking your location, you would have frozen to death."
Although I didn't understand what they were talking about, looking out, I was actually lying in the snow, and wherever my gaze fell, there was only boundless white snow.
"Who are you?" Then my head tilted, and I passed out again.
"No way, did he break his head?"
The girl beside me was startled and hurriedly reached out to touch the back of my head, her expression changing instantly.
"Hurry, make the helicopter go faster!" Her hand touched blood at the back of my head.
The roar of the helicopter sounded. When I woke up again, many people were standing in a bright ward, and they were engaged in a fierce clash.
"Bufan must be sent away. The leader is at a critical moment, and this stain of his must disappear!"
"No, you know what his condition is right now. Do you want him to die?"
"This is the decision of the Chen Family, Qin Mu. You cannot stop it."
"But he is also that man's son, why are you so partial?"
"But he is an illegitimate son."
...
The clash stopped abruptly at the words "illegitimate son." With my eyes half-closed, I sighed inwardly and chose not to open my eyes at this awkward time, but instead began to recall my identity.
My former self was called Chen Fan, and this body now was called Chen Bufan, an abandoned son of a wealthy family.
He was an illegitimate son, and the illegitimate son of a big figure at that. How big was the big figure? The kind that could influence the national fortune.
Such an illegitimate son was a stain on his life for a big figure taking the path of officialdom.
In political struggles, a stain like this would become a fatal weakness, which was why today's event had happened.
As for the origin of the injury, it also became clear in his mind. It was nothing more than a power struggle extending to him.
To ensure that Chen Bufan's father ascended to power, sacrificing him as a stain was the safest approach, which was why he had encountered an avalanche.
Chen Fan sneered. Cliché plot, dog-blood persona.
This kind of life was not what he wanted. Since he had come back to life, his life must be in his own hands. No one was allowed to manipulate him.
I wonder how that girl is doing? She must have survived, right?
Discarding the garbage in his mind, only that girl was like a beacon, illuminating the road ahead of him at the gloomiest moment of his life.
Returning to Lucheng, he wanted to see with his own eyes whether that girl had recovered. This was the most urgent thing he wanted to do now. As for the troubles of Chen Bufan as a person...
He only thought about it for a moment. Chen Bufan was already dead; with a person's death, the lamp goes out. He didn't want to touch anything that lingered around him.
Changing his name and living ordinarily was what he wanted. Born ordinary, so he was called Chen Fan.
And to achieve all this, amnesia was the best choice. Only amnesia could wipe away everything about Chen Bufan and also remove future troubles for that big figure.
"Thirsty."
He finally opened his hollow eyes.
"Fan-ge is awake!"
"Water, water is here!"
Qin Mu picked up the water cup and sat down beside him, then slowly helped him up and said in the gentlest tone:
"Feeling better?"
"Headache. You... who are you?"
Chen Fan shook his head hard, putting on an amnesiac expression.
"Fan-ge, don't scare me!" Qin Mu's body trembled, and the water in her hand almost spilled out.
Chen Fan's performance left everyone in the ward frozen in place. They looked at each other in disbelief.
"Doctor Dong, he is?"
The middle-aged man addressed as the doctor nodded secretly.
"Alright, let's go outside and talk."
Chen Fan noticed that as the doctor nodded to prove his amnesia, indeed, those arguing people all breathed a sigh of relief, as if a heavy stone had been lifted from their hearts. This proved he had done the right thing.
Amnesia might be the best ending for everyone, and it was also another beginning for his ordinary life.
Power, money—these things were not worth lingering over in front of a person who had come back from the dead. What he wanted was a kind of ordinary life, and the smile that had warmed him.