The scene rewinds to a few hours earlier.
Outside the emergency room.
"After our examination and evaluation, we regret to inform you that your boyfriend has a severe case of 'Coronary Atherosclerosis.' This episode may have been triggered by long-term excessive use of hormonal medications, leading to an embolism. The condition is quite serious, and we cannot rule out the possibility of myocardial involvement."
The doctor delivered the diagnosis with a grave expression, handing a medical report to Cornelia before continuing, "Following protocol, we recommend further testing and surgery, and we must inform you of the potential risks in advance."
Hearing the doctor's words, Cornelia froze, taking a long moment to process the information before asking hoarsely, "Can... can this illness be cured?"
Though she didn’t fully understand the medical jargon, she grasped enough to know it was serious.
That much was clear.
The doctor shook his head solemnly. "I’m afraid our hospital’s current capabilities only allow for symptom management. Possible treatment options include medication, angioplasty, bypass surgery, and others. We’ll tailor a suitable plan based on your boyfriend’s family situation."
At this, Cornelia felt her strength drain away, her heart plummeting into an abyss. She stood dazed for several seconds before lifting her head in bewilderment. "Then start his treatment right away."
"I’m sorry, I understand your concern and wishes, but medical regulations require a family member’s signature before we can proceed with further treatment—to ensure the patient’s rights and safety."
The doctor shook his head again, patiently explaining.
"I am his family. I can sign and make decisions for him. I’ll take responsibility," Cornelia insisted stubbornly, raising her head with determination.
"But that’s against protocol..."
Before the doctor could finish, Cornelia cut him off. "He has no guardians. He grew up in an orphanage..."
"I sympathize with your predicament, but please try to remain calm. We can wait for the patient to wake up and have him contact his legally designated guardian or arrange another authorized solution."
While Cornelia and the doctor were discussing this, Su Cheng had already opened his eyes, weakly glancing toward the door as if faintly aware of their argument.
A flicker of conflict crossed his brow before he sighed softly and gave up the struggle.
"What kind of joke is this?"
"How old is he?"
"Coronary heart disease already this severe?"
"Isn’t this something that only affects people over 40?"
"If you’re going to lie, at least make it believable."
Lying on the hospital bed, Su Cheng couldn’t help but scoff.
To him, he’d just fainted—nothing more.
Cornelia had shown her true colors.
As expected.
She was using him as a human experiment.
These damned rich people.
Violating ethics and morality, colluding with hospitals to torment him, draining his spirit, crushing his ambition, turning him into a wreck.
They must’ve been jealous of his academic excellence, resorting to such cruel methods to sabotage him.
Or maybe the whole school saw him as a lab rat, testing how an ordinary person reacts psychologically to a terminal diagnosis—all for some twisted conspiracy.
Fine, he couldn’t keep up the delusion.
His excuses were too flimsy even to convince himself.
But even so, he couldn’t accept this reality.
He’d finally gotten a ticket to change his fate, only to be told it was a one-way trip to hell?
How merciless!
How could he resign himself to this?
How could he possibly accept it?
All he wanted now was to call the orphanage and confirm the truth. Until then, he refused to believe such injustice could befall him.
With that thought, he opened his eyes and surveyed his surroundings.
This seemed to be a hospital emergency room. He lay in the center of the work area, surrounded by surgical lamps, instruments, defibrillators, and two nurses tidying up—everything looking highly professional.
"This patient needs to be transferred to a VIP ward."
Just then, the door opened, and several medical staff in protective suits and masks wheeled in a gurney.
Su Cheng quickly shut his eyes, feeling himself being lifted and pushed out of the emergency room.
Much later, when he opened his eyes again, he found himself in a VIP ward. The room was lavishly furnished, more like a luxury apartment than a hospital.
Must cost a fortune per night.
As he marveled at this, he noticed a blonde girl sitting beside the bed—her face pale, her expression exhausted, yet unable to mask her angelic beauty.
She sat helplessly on the edge of the bed, gazing at him silently as if guarding a priceless treasure.
She looked heartbroken and miserable.
"Are you awake?" she asked, her eyes red and swollen, her voice choked with tears.
"Yeah, feeling better."
"That’s good... that’s good..."
"Thank you," Su Cheng said softly.
"...You’re welcome."
She wiped the tears from her eyes, forcing a faint smile. "Are you hungry? What would you like to eat?"
"I have a question for you."
Su Cheng turned his head, staring out the window before asking quietly, "Can you answer me honestly?"
"Uh... go ahead."
She tensed, rising from her seat.
"About my heart condition—as my wife, you didn’t know?"
Su Cheng took a deep breath, turning back to look at her intently.
"How did you—?"
"I overheard your conversation with the doctor."
Cornelia froze for a second before biting her lip. She had planned to keep this hidden until he was in better shape, but now the truth was out.
Seeing her silence, Su Cheng inhaled deeply again. "Aren’t you my wife? How could you not know your own husband has this disease?"
Cornelia hung her head, lips trembling, unable to meet his gaze. "I... I... This world is very different from the one I knew. In my world, you never had this strange heart condition, so I had no idea..."
She cautiously peeked up at him, adding in a small voice, "I’m telling the truth."
"Then I’m not really your husband."
Su Cheng spoke softly, his expression calm, but the only hint of sincerity came from the gravity in his voice when he said the word "husband."
Hearing this, Cornelia’s face instantly turned ashen. Just as she was about to confess—
"The universe has parallel worlds. To me, you’re just using me as a reference point."
At this point, Su Cheng sat up, leaning against the headboard, and said earnestly, "The essence of a person is the sum of all their social relationships. Since the version of your husband in the parallel universe has a completely different life trajectory from mine, I can say with absolute certainty that I am not your husband!"
Hearing Su Cheng's explanation, Cornelia froze. She blinked, seemingly lost in confusion.
"So you don’t need to feel guilty or pity me. I’m not your husband—just a stranger."
After saying this, Su Cheng glanced at the time and continued, "Maybe one day you’ll return to your own world. Please don’t do anything that would betray your real husband. It would only hurt the version of him in your world."
His tone was grave, even stern.
In short, the gist was: If you treat me kindly, it’s the same as cheating on your real husband.
Hearing this, Cornelia shook her head in bewilderment. Though she still didn’t fully grasp the situation, she wasn’t stupid and roughly understood what he meant.
Yet she still looked at Su Cheng with confusion.
"What are you talking about?"
She nodded firmly and said, "You clearly are—"
"Enough, I’m not!"
Seeing that she was about to say more, Su Cheng immediately cut her off with a sharp reprimand, his voice growing harsher, even carrying a hint of anger: "Stop playing dumb. I’ve made myself perfectly clear—my life has nothing to do with you!"
"Don’t be angry, alright, alright, I get it."
Cornelia soothed him as if comforting a child. "You need to rest now. Don’t get worked up—you’ve just gotten out of the critical condition."
Su Cheng’s expression softened slightly at her words, but he remained stern. "I hope you’ll seriously consider what I just said and stop making wrong decisions."
With that, he glanced around and asked, "Where are my clothes and phone?"
"Your phone is still at home, and your clothes are at the dry cleaner’s," Cornelia explained. "I’ll help you request leave tomorrow. For now, just focus on recovering here. I’ll go back later to fetch your phone, okay?"
"How much does it cost to stay here for a day?"
Su Cheng surveyed the absurdly luxurious hospital room before turning back to Cornelia.
"It’s not much."
"I asked how much!"
"Two thousand…"
Su Cheng was stunned but pressed on, "Then how much did this entire hospitalization cost me?"
"Just stay here and don’t worry about it!"
Cornelia faintly sensed something was off.
"Tell me the total cost."
A resolute glint flashed in Su Cheng’s eyes. "I’ll always remember the kindness you’ve shown me this time. But I hate owing people money—if I don’t pay it back, I won’t be able to sleep."
Cornelia lowered her head at his words, then looked up again with a smile. "That part of you hasn’t changed."
Yet this remark made Su Cheng’s expression darken instantly. His gaze fixed on Cornelia’s deep blue eyes, his face turning cold. He stood up from the bed and muttered, "I need to use the bathroom."
"Let me help you."
"Help me with what?"
"Help you to the bathroom!"
"No, I can manage on my own."
Su Cheng waved her off and walked straight to the bathroom.
"Oh, could you buy me an apple?"
"I’ll have a nurse get one for you right now."
As Cornelia finished speaking, the bathroom fell into brief silence. Soon, the sound of running water came from inside, followed by his voice.
"Then go call one!"
So Cornelia pressed the button to summon a nurse.
"The nurse will be here soon."
But instead of a response, the bathroom door swung open, and Su Cheng dashed out in his hospital gown, slamming the door behind him—all in one swift motion.
Once outside the hospital, Su Cheng spotted an old man parking a bicycle at the entrance. He approached and saw that the QR code on the shared bike had been scratched off, the platform name defaced, and the old man was about to attach a private lock.
Such shameless behavior was something he couldn’t ignore!
Glancing back at Cornelia and the nurse who were about to chase after him, he took a deep breath, rushed up behind the old man, and yanked him hard.
"Is this your bike? How dare you put a lock on it?"
Caught off guard, the old man lost his balance and crashed to the ground. Su Cheng then hopped onto the bike and pedaled away at full speed.
Right now, all he wanted was to go home and confirm whether he was really sick.
"Hey, you—damn it, are you insane?!" The old man’s furious shouts echoed behind him, filled with rage.
Su Cheng ignored it, speeding down the street. Though his hospital gown drew plenty of stares, he didn’t care.
About ten minutes later, he executed a sharp skid-stop and arrived at his apartment building.
Without pausing, he rushed inside, quickly found his keys under the doormat, and entered.
Too restless to rest, he went straight to the landline and dialed the director of the orphanage where he’d grown up.
The ringtone played "Für Elise."
His heart pounded with anxiety, unease, dread, and worry—a storm of negative emotions.
But beneath it all, there was still hope.
He felt like a fragile blade of grass, yearning for sunlight and dew while fearing storms.
Finally, a familiar voice answered: "Hello?"
"Do I have heart disease?"
Su Cheng gasped for breath, his voice trembling.
But after his question, silence stretched on the other end, as if no one was there.
The prolonged quiet filled him with a terrible premonition, so intense he could barely hold the receiver steady.
At last, the other person spoke.
As Su Cheng listened to the reply, his grip on the phone tightened, his knuckles turning white. After a long moment, his voice finally steadied.
"Yeah, it was just a surprise finding out today."
"Right, no big deal. The doctor said medication and rest will keep it stable. Under normal circumstances, it’s no different from being a regular person."
"Ha ha, yeah. It’s not serious."
"Alright, that’s all for now."
He hung up and stared blankly at the phone, feeling as if his world had suddenly tilted.
He didn’t know how much time passed before he began scanning his surroundings, searching for some shred of hope.
The furniture and decorations, once so familiar, now felt alien—as if an insurmountable barrier had risen between him and the world.
Eventually, his gaze landed on a poster hanging on the wall: a vast, stormy ocean, waves crashing under thunderous skies. The grandeur of the scene stood in stark contrast to the fragility and helplessness in his heart.
"No system, fine—but now you’re taking my life too?"