Chapter 1

Peng Xiangming knew that his time had come.

It was time.

At the age of twenty-one, he suddenly lost strength in his legs, and was later diagnosed with this disease. He had hoped to be like Shi Tiesheng, but in the end, he became like Stephen Hawking.

It has been nine years now.

He has finally come to the last moment.

What can be done?

He could only console himself: I made it!

I made it, I made it.

There's nothing anyone can do.

Thinking back to his younger self, he was so sharp and spirited. After being diagnosed with this disease, he became almost uncontrollably irritable. In the first year, no matter how severely his muscles atrophied, he insisted on exercising, firmly believing he would recover.

Man can conquer nature!

But reality proved otherwise.

He told himself not to give up, to keep trying, to stay optimistic, to believe in miracles.

Ha ha.

If there were a choice, who would want to get such a lousy disease?

But where is there a choice in reality?

Gradually, his spirit was worn down.

What does it mean to be worn down?

Peng Xiangming felt that from the third year until now, his state of mind had been worn down: he neither hoped for recovery nor for death.

If I can live one more day, I'll use it; if I can't, so be it.

At first, it was the atrophy of his leg muscles, which progressed very quickly. Both the doctors and his family tried many methods, some of which were unverified.

Then it was his upper body, his arms, and his waist.

In less than two years, he could no longer lift his arms. He was completely incapacitated, unable to even feed himself, needing to be fed.

The progression then slowed down.

By last year, chewing had become increasingly difficult, and he had completely lost his ability to speak.

He relied on liquid food being pumped into his stomach—don't overthink it, the tube isn't uncomfortable because he had lost much of his sensation.

Last month, he could no longer open his eyes.

Recently, he seemed to have lost his hearing as well.

In the utterly silent, pitch-black world, it seemed only his brain and heart were still alive, still able to support his thoughts, memories, imagination, sadness, and nostalgia.

The world had lost its sense of time.

Only the final breath was left.

In a daze, he suddenly seemed to hear a song.

It sounded like an opera, a magnificent soprano, just like the one played over the loudspeakers in "The Shawshank Redemption."

Or perhaps it was a warm, gentle voice, softly singing something.

Or maybe... it was even rap? Jay Chou? "In the Name of the Father?"

"I love 'In the Name of the Father' the most!"

Peng Xiangming thought, and the song seemed to become clearer.

But he knew it wasn't real.

It was just an illusion.

From being paralyzed to being half-dead, and now 99% dead, in these nine years of endless abyss, he had watched countless movies, TV shows, and novels, and listened to countless songs, crosstalk, and storytelling.

Many of them he had watched and listened to over and over again.

Just to pass the time.

What else could he do?

Well, at least it's a fitting end. Jay Chou, thank you for your voice to accompany me on this final journey.

At this moment, he suddenly remembered something from many years ago, a small thing—promising to go see Guo Degang's year-end performance live.

He remembered talking about this promise, or rather, a kind of aspiration, when the girl was sitting in his lap, her hair brushing his face, slightly tickling.

She smelled so good.

He only remembered how good she smelled.

Right, the sunlight that day seemed quite nice, a bright and vivid memory.

That day, she sat in his lap and watched Guo Degang's "Dream of the Western Expedition."

She laughed so joyfully.

The alluring scent of her body.

And the scent of youth.

Now she... must have already married, and maybe even had children.

Definitely.

"Years have passed, I really miss you."

He thought.

At this moment, he inexplicably saw Hei Pi sitting in a cable car, holding a large bamboo stick, seriously shaking his head. Ge Dama sat next to him, patted his hand, and said, "I offered my heart to the bright moon, but the bright moon only shone upon the ditch!"

How funny.

The song suddenly rang out again, so real—

"Close my eyes, and I see again,

The scenes of that dream,

The sky is misty,

Father holds my hands,

Gently walking through the quiet

Stone-paved path at dawn.

I slowly fall asleep,

As the sky just begins to brighten.

..."

With the most radiant smile of his life in his mind, Peng Xiangming softly said in his heart: "Dad, Mom, I'm going ahead. Thank you for all your hard work these years!"