Chapter 1Faking Poverty, Dying From It

From the moment I could remember, I knew my family was struggling.

So when I suspected I had a serious illness, my first reaction wasn't fear.

Instead, I carefully asked Mom and Dad, "What if... what if I have cancer?"

They chuckled, dismissing it as my wild imagination, yet their voices were firm. "If that day ever comes, we'll sacrifice everything to get you cured."

I tossed and turned all night, finally making up my mind—I couldn't be a burden to them.

But as I swallowed an entire bottle of sleeping pills, I saw them laughing and chatting in their luxurious downtown mansion.

In that instant, it all clicked.

All these years, the "hard life" that forced me to be desperately "sensible" was nothing more than an elaborate act they had meticulously staged.

They were just pretending to be poor.

And I, I was truly dead…

During a break between classes, my nose suddenly started bleeding. It took half a pack of tissues to finally stop it.

Chloe, my deskmate, looked at my pale face and whispered, "My neighbor's brother used to get nosebleeds like that. Turned out to be leukemia... His family spent all their money, but they still couldn't save him..."

I forced a smile, calling her a "jinx," but my heart sank with a chilling thump.

Lately, I'd been constantly exhausted. I'd be out of breath after just two steps in PE, and I had a bruise on my knee that appeared out of nowhere and wouldn't go away.

I desperately tried to tell myself not to overthink it, not to needlessly worry my parents, but the fear deep inside me was growing like wildfire.

What if... what if it was real?

I secretly went to the community clinic and had my blood drawn.

The doctor's face grew serious after reviewing the lab results.

He couldn't rule out a malignant blood disorder and urged me to get a comprehensive check-up at a larger hospital as soon as possible.

My heart plummeted to the bottom.

Clutching that flimsy lab report, my steps felt weightless, and I couldn't even remember how I staggered back home.

Mom, wearing a faded apron, was busy in the kitchen. Hearing the noise at the door, she called out, "Go wash your hands quickly! I made your favorite pizza today."

I frantically crumpled the lab report into a ball and shoved it deep into my backpack.

A little later, Dad also came home.

He looked utterly exhausted, taking off his old, threadbare jacket with frayed cuffs and slinging it over the back of a chair, letting out a long sigh.

Mom brought the dishes to the table.

A plate of salad, a pizza, and some roasted chicken – it was a rare feast.

Dad ate quickly and hungrily, as if he hadn't eaten in days.

Mom ate while grumbling that pork prices had gone up again.

I picked at my food, small bites, tasting nothing. The doctor's words echoed in my mind, refusing to fade.

"Dad, Mom..."

I quietly called out to them, putting down my knife and fork.

They both looked up.

"What if... what if I get a very serious illness," I stared at the food on the table, not daring to meet their eyes, "like cancer... what then?"

The dining table fell silent.

Dad's hand, holding a forkful of food, froze in mid-air. Mom's spoon "clinked" against the rim of her bowl.

"What nonsense are you talking?!" Mom was the first to react, her brows tightly furrowed. "Children shouldn't say such unlucky things!"

"I mean, if... what if it happens?"

I pressed on relentlessly, my eyes starting to sting.

Dad put down his fork, his rough hand ruffling my hair.

"Luna, don't overthink things. Your job right now is to study hard. If that day ever truly comes..." He paused, then continued, "Don't worry, Dad will sell everything we own, even bankrupt ourselves, to cure you."

Mom quickly nodded in agreement. "Yes, we'll lose everything to cure you! Now eat, the food's getting cold."

After they spoke, it was as if the topic was closed.

Dad resumed eating, and Mom put a piece of egg on my plate. "Eat more, you need to grow."

I listened to their words, looking at their faded, old clothes and the simple meal on the table.

"Sell everything we own..."

"Lose everything..."

I slowly picked up my forks, lowered my head, burying my face in my bowl.

Tears suddenly welled up, dripping into my food.

I quickly scooped a large mouthful of rice, swallowing it with my tears.