Chapter 2

Soon, my image appeared on the big screen.

The background was outside the hospital’s oncology department.

But the next moment, I held up a medical record to block the camera, my tone impatient:

“I said no filming, can you stop following me!”

Off-screen, a mature and sincere female voice sounded:

“Little sister, my name is Fiona, I’m not a scammer, I’m from the Goodbye Cancer program, I can help you.”

I moved the file away, revealing my gaunt and bloodless face on camera.

But quickly, I shoved the record to a clear angle, pointing at the diagnosis:

“Do you know what wild-type rectal cancer is?

Do you know what fetal differentiation adenocarcinoma is?

It’s a cancer brought from the womb, a rare disease, only 5 cases nationwide,

There’s no targeted chemotherapy plan.

The doctor said I have at most one year to live.”

The screen went silent.

I just tugged at my lips:

“It’s useless for you to help me, I’m only headed for death, find someone else.”

With that, I turned and left.

“Our show pays well, as long as you agree to film, you’ll have money for treatment.”

The woman grabbed me.

I shook my head, with a bitter smile:

“Proton therapy, the only chemotherapy that works a bit for me right now, do you know how much one session costs?”

I held up five fingers.

“Fifty thousand.”

I removed her hand and turned away.

The next second, I suddenly knelt down, collapsing to the ground.

The camera shook violently, off-screen were panicked shouts:

“Little sister!”