A Wildflower Dreamed of Being a Rose

In the third year of my marriage to Han Su, a follow-up examination revealed that my cancer had returned. I clutched my medical report and called Han Su.

It rang for a long time before he finally picked up.

His voice was harsh.

"You don't have to call me after every follow-up. I'm busy. I don't have time to listen to your nonsense."

"Song Chuxue, can't you be a little more considerate? When you were diagnosed with cancer, even your parents didn't want you, their fake heiress. I was the one who paid to save you!"

I had wanted to tell Han Su about the results, but Song Qingge's voice came through in the background, calling for him.

"Su, come keep me company!"

Then the call was cut off.