Chapter 114: Falling Ill

At that time, no one really knew what "bone cancer" was. Anyone who played basketball had their share of sprains and fractures. But once you added the word "cancer," it sounded just a little more serious.

However, after Ming Han looked it up online, his heart sank completely.

"The treatment is effective, with a five-year survival rate of over 80%."

"How is that possible?" Ming Han murmured to himself.

Death is humanity’s greatest fear. But for young people, it still feels like a distant concept.

"Tank’s body is so strong—how could he have this disease?"

Ming Han searched again: Why does bone cancer happen?

After browsing several pages, most answers were ambiguous.

The gist was that modern medicine is still trying to understand this disease.

Those days, Ming Han’s mood was heavy and low.

Not long ago, he and Tank were still drinking and eating meat together, joking that Tank was like his martial arts ancestor. No one imagined that by then, the first cancer cells might have already spread through the bloodstream...

Soon, the weekend arrived. Yu Hang and Ming Han took the bus to the city. The journey took an hour, and the two of them were weighed down with dread. The atmosphere was suffocating.

They transferred at the city station to another bus heading to the city hospital. Upon entering, the strong scent of disinfectant filled the air.

Since they had notified the hospital in advance, they quickly found Tank’s ward.

How to put it?

A tremendous wave of sorrow swept over them, and grief wrapped Ming Han and Yu Hang in a heavy shroud.

Not long ago, Tank was so full of life and energy, dominating the basketball court with invincible force.

But now, before their eyes was a feeble figure lying weakly in bed, sustained only by IV drips and an oxygen tank.

"You must find this hard to accept," Tank said bitterly, his voice low. "Damn it, after chemo I keep wanting to vomit, and I’ve lost all my hair."

Ming Han didn’t know what to say to Tank. He could only awkwardly hand some fruit to Tank’s mother by the bedside.

The woman’s face was full of worry, and she kept thanking him.

Ming Han fully understood the torment she must feel as a mother.

"Auntie, it’ll get better," Yu Hang gently patted her shoulder.

Will it? No one knew.

"You two stay with Lin Zhen. I’ll go ask the doctor about the next step in treatment."

...

Tank’s eyes no longer held the pride they once did. He stared blankly at the ceiling and suddenly said, "Yu Hang, in the last game before they found out about this disease, I scored 32 points."

Yu Hang was stunned and clearly hadn’t expected Tank to say that. When he finally registered the words, he broke down completely, collapsing to the floor and sobbing uncontrollably.

What I fear most is the day when I can never touch a basketball again.

Once, I had so many dreams about basketball. But in the end, I didn’t even get the chance to pursue them. I’m not afraid of failure—I fear never even having the chance to start, only to have the game declared over before it begins.

"Yu Hang, stop crying. In ancient times, there was something called inheritance. A master’s skills would be passed down to disciples. Yu Hang, you have to keep playing!" Tank said these words with great effort.

Yu Hang suddenly recalled when he was in elementary school, visiting Tank’s school to watch him play. That day, Tank was like a god of war, single-handedly dismantling the entire opposing team.

After the game, Tank took the soda Yu Hang handed him and drank it greedily.

That day, Tank seriously told Yu Hang, "Little apprentice, watch me! One day I’ll stand on the highest basketball stage and show the world my skills."

Yu Hang was only eleven then, but he nodded firmly, "Me too!"

...

"With treatment, everything will be fine," Yu Hang kept repeating this phrase. He didn’t even realize his emotions were unraveling.

"When the doctor first told me, I was clueless. I’d only ever heard of liver or lung cancer—when did bones get cancer? I thought it was just a minor problem. But after looking it up, I realized doctors are completely helpless against this disease."

"That chubby doctor said that after several rounds of chemo, my cancer cells could be controlled. Fuck that. After one round, I feel like neither a man nor a ghost. Does he want me to die looking like a freak?" Tank cursed bitterly, his voice weak.

"Yu Hang, I’m so scared of dying like a dog—weak and pitiful! No one will remember I ever lived. Why are doctors so powerless now? They can’t even handle one cancer. I want to play basketball, I want to chase girls, I want to be famous... damn it..."

...

That day, Tank said a lot. Like a child robbed of his candy, he vented about the world’s immense cruelty toward him.

By the end, the three grown men were all crying like dogs in the hospital room. Tank let tears stream freely down his face, while Ming Han and Yu Hang wept with snot and tears alike.

He wanted to live!

When Yu Hang and Ming Han left that day, Tank said to them, "Keep playing, okay? No matter how hard it gets, you two—the Morning Star duo—have to keep playing."

Yu Hang forced a smile. "Lin Zhen, you take care of yourself. When Ming Han and I reach the big stage, you’ll come there as our coach and share your wisdom."

Tank nodded. "Haha... I’ll definitely be there."

They left. No one expected it would be the last time.

Three days later, on the night before his second chemotherapy, Tank jumped from the hospital’s seventh floor.

Yu Hang never got over it: Tank was a coward. If there was even the tiniest chance of survival, he had no right to give up.

Those days, Yu Hang and Ming Han were frantically preparing for their match against Longhua, with no time to check their phones.

When Yu Hang finally had a moment, he saw a message Tank sent at 1 a.m. on the night of his suicide: "Yu Hang, it hurts so much!"

I’m only nineteen. I’m not some heroic martyr who can endure unbearable pain. This suffering makes me want to give up on life.

After receiving the message, Yu Hang posted: Everyone is actually very weak.

Ming Han replied: He was already very strong.

The incident caused a huge stir; videos circulated online.

People speculated wildly—conspiracy theories, palace intrigues...

Yu Hang just stared at the video showing a woman, who was clearly Tank’s mother, murmuring: "My foolish son, you hate pain so much, why did you choose this way?"

Her eyes had lost all their light. Her husband held her fragile body tightly, as if afraid she might collapse at any moment.

Tank was once the king of street basketball, a nightmare for many players. But only his mother knew: her strong son was terrified of pain.