Chapter 18 Quarrel

Although Sister Ling said it was just a "minor problem" and "just low blood sugar", Fengjian's eyebrows have been twitching in recent days. In order to prevent the problem forever, she made an appointment at Kanagawa City Central Hospital despite Sister Ling's opposition. After a check-up, she found that there was really a problem.

"According to the previous medical examination report, the preliminary diagnosis is that this is a malignant tumor, and it is continuously growing. The diameter has also increased by 0.3cm compared to before. It has even caused some lung infection. Surgery is recommended as soon as possible."

“…”

"Hey kid, why do you have to have such a sad face?"

Sister Ling's nagging pulled her out of her thoughts.

"Your mother has seen it all. It's just a small tumor. Maybe it was just a misdiagnosed cough caused by a cold," Sister Ling complained as she sat on the bed, her hair in a mess. "She's been sitting here all day, bored to death. Today... no, she can be discharged now."

Fengjian pursed his lips tightly and clenched the confirmation form in his hand tightly.

Only she understood that the things she worried about in her previous life were finally right in front of her.

No problems were found during the previous checkup, and everything could be said to be normal. She thought she had returned to change Sister Ling's order.

Fengjian stared down at his palm. The corners of the diagnosis form were wrinkled from being squeezed, and the ink of the words "malignant tumor" had smudged a little, like a mark wet by tears. The sun burned the back of his neck, but his fingertips were frozen—exactly the same as when he signed the consent form in his previous life.

…

"Kazama, Kazama..."

Like a drowning person who occasionally sees a ray of daylight, Fengjian suddenly opened his eyes. The sunlight shone through the dense branches and fell on his face. Several familiar faces flashed by in his sight.

"April, what's wrong with you?" Yuan Qianye held her face with both hands, his eyes full of worry and his face full of fear. "I couldn't wake you up no matter how hard I tried. I was scared to death."

"Kazama, do you want to take a rest? If you are tired, why not ask for leave? There is no need to push yourself so hard." This was the concern from Deputy Minister Oishi.

"Girls, don't push yourself so hard." Fuji stood aside with his hands behind his back.

"Well, have a good rest." Tezuka stood next to Fuji.

"Although you may not see me on the court anymore, I will come back once I am well again."

"Hiss, are you stupid?"

"Stinky snake, who are you talking about?"

"Whoever should speak is the one who should speak."

"you......"

"Momoshiro, Kaidou run ten laps around the court."

"...Yes, President Tezuka."

Fengjian blinked, his eye sockets scorched by the afternoon sun, as if covered with sandpaper. The sound of his argument with Sister Ling last night was still ringing in his ears.

"I won't do this awful surgery!"

"Sister Ling, stop making trouble!"

At the end of the argument, Sister Ling threw the medicine bottle to the ground, and the white pills rolled all over the floor like a handful of broken snow.

…

She had just been sitting on a bench near the court, but when she closed her eyes, images of her past life flooded back. Ten years later, the rented house, the peeling walls festooned with cobwebs, and her phone's address book, scrolling to the bottom, contained only a few names: "Courier" and "Convenience Store Auntie."

Her fingertips suddenly felt cold, as if they had touched the concrete floor of the room.

"I'm fine."

Fengjian raised her hand and slapped it across her face. The warmth from her palm made her cheeks numb. She forced a laugh, her voice a little hazy: "Maybe I have heatstroke. Sorry for interrupting everyone's practice."

As she spoke, she stood up, using the bench as a support. Her knee banged against the bench leg, and the dull pain made her more awake. As she turned to walk towards the lounge, she heard Taocheng utter an "Ah" behind her, but she didn't stop.

"Kazama doesn't seem to be in good shape." Momoshiro scratched his head and looked at her back.

"Your expression is very heavy." Fuji curled his eyes and his gaze fell on the bench where Fengjian had just sat. There was still a shallow mark left there.

"Yuan, do you know what happened?" Momoshiro nudged Yuan Chiba with his elbow.

Chiba shrank his neck, his fingers twisting around the drawstring of his tracksuit: "Well... maybe, it could be... about Aunt Reiko?"

Her voice got lower and lower. Everyone stared at her, and her ears turned red. She scratched her head and said, "It's just... Aunt Lingzi hasn't been feeling well recently. It seems like they had a fight yesterday."

The intermittent explanation drifted away, and the court suddenly became quiet, with only the "thump thump" sound of tennis balls hitting the ground echoing in the air.

"Everyone's listless, meow." Kikumaru leaned against Oishi's shoulder, his hair hanging down like a tail. "We can't even muster the energy for training, and Captain Tezuka..."

The words got stuck in his throat as he caught a glimpse of Tezuka bending over to pick up the ball from the corner of his eye. The sleeve of his school uniform had slipped to his elbow, revealing the bandage on the edge of his elbow pad, which was dazzlingly white.

Oishi's Adam's apple moved, and he wanted to say something, but swallowed it back. When he was sorting out his equipment this morning, he saw a stack of German materials in Tezuka's locker. The name of the Orthopedic Hospital was printed on the cover. It was sent by Atobe last week.

"Tezuka's elbow..." Kawamura scratched his hair, his voice muffled, "Doctors back home said that if we delay any longer, it might..."

"Hiss—" Haitang hissed softly and tightened his grip on the racket.

Everyone knew that this meant they might be without their captain in the Kanto tournament finals, and even the national tournament. But no one could say, "Don't go to Germany"—that would be gambling with Tezuka's tennis career.

"Well... let's go watch the sunrise," Oishi's voice broke the silence. "Watching the sunrise can make people feel better. Everyone has been training so hard recently, it's time to relax. How about watching the sunrise together before Tezuka leaves?"

Tao Cheng held his head and cried out, "To watch the sunrise, doesn't that mean we have to get up very early..."

"Me too. I'd rather stay up late than get up early." Echizen quietly lowered the brim of his hat.

"I don't like getting up early either, but since it's Oishi's suggestion, I have no problem with that, meow."

"I agree about watching the sunrise. Come to think of it, it seems like we haven't seen the sunrise in a while. The last time we watched the sunset was when we were all in the first grade of junior high school. It sounds great to leave some good memories before Tezuka leaves."

"I think it's good too." Kawamura scratched his head.

Fuji chuckled with his hands behind his back, "Aaron usually doesn't reject anyone. He's a good person like Oishi."

"No, Fuji."

"Hiss~"

"Everyone is going, so I might as well go too."

"Senior Tao, didn't you just say you couldn't go?"

"I've changed my mind. After all, how could I be left out of such a good thing?"

"cut."

"Tezuka, what do you think? Do you have time?"

Everyone turned their heads in unison. A young man with shaggy chestnut hair stood at the edge of the court, nodding slightly under everyone's expectant gaze.

"Well, let's all go watch the sunrise together."

Late at night, the stars are sparse, and the evening breeze passes by the windowsill, making the blinds rustle.

When the speaker dinged, Kazama's mouse was hovering over the page titled "Preoperative Instructions for Sister Ling." He clicked on his email and a message from Oishi popped up: "Come to Akiming Mountain to watch the sunrise at 5:00 the day after tomorrow. Tezuka will be there too."

Her fingertips paused, remembering the bandage on his elbow when he picked up the ball this morning.

Are you going?

Before she could come to her senses, a second email popped up. The sender was Tezuka: "I asked a friend who is a doctor, and he said the success rate of this type of surgery is 83%. The attachment is a list of precautions."

Feng Jian stared at the number "83%" for a long time without coming back to his senses.

The evening breeze passed by the windowsill, and the sunny dolls on the eaves were jingling, and slowly flowed along with the night.