"He used cancer cells to copy my outline, and I spent the rest of my life deciphering his love letters hidden in painkillers."
Su Wan's art box is always missing a stick of ultramarine paint, just like her eighteen-year-old heartbeat is always missing half a beat.
When transfer student Gu Chenzhou's white shirt passed her drawing board, she didn't know that this pale boy was using the countdown to stomach cancer to measure his courage to love her - he dissected cherry blossoms in biology class and made pathological slices into specimen lamps, just to let the spots of cancer cell proliferation illuminate her way home at night.
He died on "March 14" on the seventh page of Su Wan's sketchbook. Hidden in the crease at the corner of the paper was a love poem written using the morphine metabolism formula.
"April 5" Su Wan found his frozen stomach specimen in the autopsy room. Her initials were engraved on the ulcer surface, and the pathological stage corresponded to the longitude and latitude of each of their encounters.
On May 20th, when the cherry blossoms rotted into blood, she finally solved the chemical mystery he left behind - the paint tubes he pretended to accidentally knock over contained the wedding dress designs he drew using tumor markers.
It turns out that all the tacit looks at each other were just a dying romance as he calculated the expiration date of the painkillers;
The bloody cherry blossoms he coughed into the palm of his hand were floating in all the wind that passed by;
And on the last page of the sketchbook she thought was a record of her secret love, he added the green line of the ECG monitor——
"Su Wan, you are the only effective targeted drug for my end-stage pain.
It's a pity that the clinical trial was too late to be completed.
Please put my ashes into a cherry blossom paint tube,
In the next life, I will be the venous blood in your paintings that never fades. "
(The story finally stopped in a tube of solidified cobalt blue ashes paint, which was the eighteenth watercolor that Gu Chenzhou secretly replaced. Every time Su Wan dipped the paint, the microscope showed that tens of thousands of gastric cancer cells were arranged into the Morse code of "I love you", and they had stopped dividing as early as the spring of 2018.)
Concept: "Cancer kisses pi, love has no solution"
