The endoscopy report came back quicker than expected.
Photos from the procedure were spread across the desk. The doctor, wearing gloves, pointed them out one by one.
"There's a shadow here," he said, tapping near the gastric angle. "It might be an ulcer, but we can't rule out a malignancy yet."
Su Rui sat stiffly in her chair, fingers gripping her pants so tightly that her knuckles turned white.
"Is it… cancer?"
The doctor paused, then spoke gravely.
"We're still waiting for pathology results. If the cells are benign, we can remove the lesion with a minimally invasive procedure. But if they're malignant… it could be advanced gastric cancer—stage three, possibly nearing stage four."
"…"
"With your current condition, if it is cancer, I suggest you prepare for the worst."
"…What do you mean by the worst?"
He looked at her gently, lowering his voice.
"Metastasis could happen within six months… at best, you might have a year."
Boom.
The world around her collapsed into a roar of silence.
Six months.
Those two words crashed into her skull like a sledgehammer, echoing, unbearable.
She bit down hard on her lip, forcing back the scream threatening to burst out of her throat.
The moment she left the consultation room, her legs gave out beneath her. She clung to the wall to steady herself, but the tiles beneath her feet felt like they were melting.
She didn't know how she ended up sprinting through the corridor. Her chest heaved, breath ragged.
That's my body.
She was the one lying in that bed. Su Rui had borrowed that body—temporarily. But now?
Now, it was betraying her.
The pounding of her shoes echoed through the hospital as she dashed through the hall, shoving open the door to the ICU with both hands.
The moment she saw the woman on the bed—her former body—lying so still, so peaceful, rage took over.
"You wake up! You wake up right now!"
She charged to the bedside, grabbing the woman's shoulders and shaking violently.
"This is your body! Get up and take it back!"
The woman didn't move. Her breathing remained slow and even.
"You said you could feel me! You said you were still there! Then why aren't you saying anything now?!"
Tears streamed down Su Rui's face as she pounded the bed railings, her voice cracking.
"I don't want to die in your dying body! I'm barely in my thirties—I still have films to shoot, endorsements waiting, dreams to chase… I don't want this!"
She shook harder, frenzied.
"Give it back to me! This is my life! My body! You can't just stay in there forever!"
Footsteps thundered outside the door.
A doctor, two nurses, and a security guard burst into the room.
"She's losing control—hold her down!"
"Careful with the patient—get a sedative!"
Someone pinned her arms. A cold prick hit her upper arm.
Su Rui struggled, but her strength ebbed rapidly. Her vision blurred. Her world turned gray.
Her last glimpse was of the woman—herself—still lying there, motionless.
She collapsed to the floor like a fallen feather, weightless and broken.
Before losing consciousness, she whispered:
"…Are you really… this heartless?"
At the end of the corridor, just around the corner, a tall figure stood silently.
Shen Yichen.
He had originally come to ask about the patient's condition. But what he heard instead—those desperate screams—froze him in place.
"This is my life, my body."
That sentence stuck in his mind like a nail.
He didn't leave. He simply stood there, frowning deeply, a storm brewing behind his eyes.
He had heard everything.