Chapter 9

Chapter 9

I’d taken good care of myself since my diagnosis. But sometimes, to hide my illness from Ethan, I’d had to take my medicine in secret—and occasionally missed doses. Then, when my parents passed away recently, I’d been swamped with funeral arrangements and work, pulling all-nighters.

"You need to be hospitalized for chemotherapy," Daniel insisted. He’d suggested it when I was first diagnosed, but I’d refused—I didn’t have time to waste in the hospital. Now, he was pushing for it again.

I still refused. "No—I don’t want to be hospitalized."

"Your condition is getting worse by the day. Are you really going to be this stubborn?"

"I know what I’m doing. Just prescribe me some painkillers, please."

I knew my body better than anyone. I’d already missed the best time for treatment. Even with chemotherapy now, it would only delay the inevitable—not change it. I had more important things to do.

I couldn’t let my family’s legacy fall into Ethan’s hands! If he wanted to be with Luna, he could do it—after he left with nothing.

I picked up my medicine and headed downstairs, only to run into Noah Harris.

"Xiaoxue!" He waved from across the lobby, hurrying over. The moment I saw him, my first instinct was to run—but I didn’t get far. Noah grabbed me, not even out of breath, while I stood there, hands on my knees, gasping.

"Why are you running? You look like a mouse seeing a cat." He snatched the medicine and test results from my hand. "Are you sick?" He flipped through the papers, confused—until he unfolded the test report.

Oh no. I closed my eyes.