Chapter 1

On a game show, the host asked my mom:

"What's one plus one?"

My mom didn't hesitate:

"It equals three."

Everyone froze.

My family had joined this show to raise money for my astronomical medical bills.

Answer ten questions correctly, and they'd win five million dollars.

After struggling through nine questions, the host took pity and asked a softball question.

This prize money was my lifeline.

But my mom, a PhD in mathematics, deliberately answered it wrong.

I bolted upright in my hospital bed, chest tight with pain.

The host recovered quickly, plastering on a smile:

"Dr. Lily Smith is a mathematics PhD. Perhaps in unexplored mathematical fields, one plus one can equal three."

"However, the question I just asked is very simple. You only need to think like a first-grader!"

But my mom blinked and said firmly:

"One plus one equals three."

The host's expression darkened.

My brother held up two fingers, waving them frantically in front of Mom's face.

"Mom! Just answer one more question correctly and we can get the prize money for Chloe's surgery!"

"This isn't the time for jokes!"

Dad was sweating bullets too.

"Honey, did you mishear the question? Or did you misspeak?"

But no matter how Dad and my brother pleaded, Mom stuck to her answer—"one plus one equals three."

The audience exploded:

"Is this mother insane?"

"This has to be scripted! What mother would want her own child to die?"

Each question had a ten-minute time limit.

As the countdown neared its end, I begged the doctor to help me video call the show.

The production team connected immediately.

My pale, weak face appeared on the big screen.

The crowd gasped in sympathy. The host's eyes reddened with emotion.

At sixteen, I'd been diagnosed with a malignant heart tumor and was in critical condition every moment.

The only hope for my survival was this prize money.

The host was frantic:

"There are only three minutes left on the countdown."

"If you answer incorrectly, all your family's efforts will be wasted!"

To qualify for this show, my whole family had stayed up for three months memorizing the question bank.

They'd barely made it through nine questions, and now Mom was spouting nonsense on the tenth.

I spoke carefully:

"Mom, the prize is five million dollars. My treatment only costs three million."

"I won't take a penny of what's left!"

"And when I recover, I'll work hard and give you every paycheck to show my gratitude!"

The crowd murmured sympathetically.

Mom's eyes welled up too.

With ten seconds left on the countdown, Mom raised her hand to indicate she wanted to change her answer.

I finally breathed a sigh of relief.

Maybe Mom had just been joking with everyone.

"I'm sorry, I misspoke earlier."

"One plus one should equal..."

I held my breath.

Mom surveyed the room, then suddenly smiled.

"One plus one equals one!"

The countdown ended.

The five million dollars on the screen instantly disappeared!