If I could, I wouldn’t write this. I wish it weren’t real. I wish it weren’t real... I’m an absurd author, but I just can’t keep myself from posting this. If I could, I wish you’d never see it.
I’m only an author. I’m not a god.
And I want to ask you one thing: did you see it? Did you see it? Someone has acknowledged your love.
Wang Yun, a young man with bone cancer, meets He Chengyu, a patient with congenital heart disease, in a hospice ward. Two souls sentenced to death strike sparks in the smell of disinfectant.
He sketches titanium alloy supports as the bones of a mech for him; the other folds a magnolia out of ECG paper for him. They sneak equipment out of the ICU to assemble a “starship escape pod,” and turn chemotherapy drugs into a blueberry-flavored galaxy. As roses and nebulae spread through the gaps in Wang Yun’s bones, and He Chengyu’s heart chambers quiver like an exploding supernova, Old Zhang, the ward attendant, uses secretly recorded surveillance footage and forged medical records to leave behind the final black box from this doomed voyage through the universe.
“If spring will never come, then let our medical records be the most punk love letter of all.”
This book is adapted from a true story.
[The masterpiece of bird food]