At the hospital, Tang Zhi Chu pushed open the ward door.
Inside, he saw Wang Jun standing by the window, his aunt in her pajamas, and Tao Bo sitting in a chair with his head bowed.
At the sound, they all looked toward the door.
Wang Jun came over and said quietly, "His organs are starting to fail. The doctor doesn't recommend chemotherapy anymore."
Tang Zhi Chu froze for a moment, then walked to the bedside. The old man was unconscious, wearing an oxygen mask and hooked up to an IV.
The last time they'd arranged his discharge, the doctor had said they should let him eat whatever he wanted. So when Tang Zhi Chu had dinner with those uncles, he'd even let his father have a little wine.
Tang Zhi Chu knew the old man would be one of the trials he faced in this new life, but he hadn't expected it to come so soon.
Wang Jun stood beside Tang Zhi Chu, his face expressionless. Then he took an envelope from the inside pocket of his jacket and put it in Tang Zhi Chu's hand.
After handing him the envelope, Wang Jun glanced at Tang Xiuju. She said nothing, and went out with Tao Bo and Wang Jun.
Tang Zhi Chu stood by Tang Mao De's bedside and opened the letter.
It was his father's handwriting. Tang Mao De hadn't had much schooling, but he had beautiful handwriting.
"I don't know if this counts as a suicide note. Either way, it's a letter. Why write one? Because whenever I see you, your old man can't help scolding you.
"You said the show would wrap tomorrow. Has your old man done all right? At least I haven't held you back.
"A few things I need to tell you. This