Three years ago, Jiang Wanwan ran away from marriage.
Lu Chen chased her to the airport and only received a text message: "Don't look for me, I don't love you anymore."
Three years later, she woke up in the ward of the hematology department. The attending doctor, wearing a mask, only showing his eyes - as cold as ice, asked her: "Name?"
She recognized him, but he pretended not to.
Chemotherapy, bone penetration, and failure reports again and again, he read businesslikely, while she listened quietly. She thought he was seeking revenge.
Until that day, she found a matching report at the bottom of his drawer - he had done a bone marrow matching on his first day of employment six months ago. Totally consistent.
She finally understood: he had been looking for her for the past three years and put on a mask of indifference after finding her because he didn't dare to gamble. If the operation failed, he was afraid that she would see him cry.
That evening, she pulled out the infusion tube and climbed to the hospital rooftop.
She wrote a letter: "Lu Chen, this time I will let you go."
He rushed up and grabbed her wrist, his palms covered with sweat.
She opened his fingers one by one and fell.
He jumped over the guardrail and gave chase.
In mid-air, he finally held her hand.
The ten fingers intertwined in the pool of blood were like the ring he was almost able to wear at the wedding three years ago.
But after dusk that day, no one saw the sun tomorrow again.
Intention: Love is not about possession, it is about catching up with you and holding your hand even if you fall into the abyss.