I was diagnosed with cancer.

After much deliberation, I called my husband.

He fell silent for a long while.

“Most of our mortgage is unpaid, and our children need money for school. You should go for conservative treatment.”

I called my mother while weeping.

“You’re so troublesome. None of my friends or family have cancer!”

I stopped crying and started living for myself.

God favored me and let me see reality early in my life. He even gave me a chance to start over.

Jennifer Sullivan—my best friend—and I walked out of the hospital in silence.

When we arrived at the intersection, she took my hand and gave it a tight squeeze.

“Don’t get emotional about it. If you’re sick, just get treated. We can take things slow.”

“Yeah. Everything will be okay.”

After we parted ways, my mind wandered off, and I nearly got run over by a car.

As I apologized repeatedly, the driver cursed me out and drove away.

The moment I got home, I saw that Adrian Howard, my husband, was in the kitchen cooking. Usually, he would be playing games at this time. By the looks of it, he knew that I was feeling down. At the very least, he had good judgment.

He occasionally checked on me, but he did it sneakily. He did not dare to look me in the eye.

From the call at the hospital, my mood plummeted.

I remembered reading once in a book that we are to never test a person’s humanity, because it would make us lose things we could never get back.

I still did it by sending Adrian my test results in the afternoon and asking him what I should do.

In the beginning, he was really anxious. “Are they accurate? How could you get cancer? You never get sick!”

I felt touched, because I thought that he was concerned about me. We had been married for eighteen years, and the spark of love was long gone. We were more like siblings at this point.

But what he said next made my blood run cold. “Did the doctor mention how much money you’ll need for treatment? What are the chances of you getting better?”

“Targeted therapy will cost 300,000 dollars. The chances of success are 20%.”

“300,000? And only 20%?”

I could hear the uncertainty in his voice. He was assessing the situation. But I knew that we had 300,000 dollars in our savings account. After all, we had saved that money together.

Was he actually assessing the value of my life?

“Look, we’re still far from being able to pay off our mortgage. If I’ll be the only one earning money from now on, we’ll lose the house. Our children also need money.” He made up his mind. “Why don’t you go for conservative treatment?”

Conservative treatment? He might as well be telling me to die.

Was this the final shred of dignity he was offering me?

I buried my face in a hot towel. The heat warmed up my face; my eyes burned so much that I started crying.

Irene Howard, my daughter, ran into the bathroom and announced loudly, “Mom, our school is doing a research and study tour! Get 20,000 ready for me!”

I took my daughter’s hand and stared into her eyes as I asked softly, “Irene, what if I tell you that I need the money for treatment?”

“What? You won’t let me go on the research and study tour? I didn’t go when Oliver went! You promised me that you’d let me go next time!” Irene became worked up. She started squirming and stomping.

I subconsciously let go of her hand and looked into the mirror.

I was forty-three years old, and my beauty was long gone, even though I had once been seen as a flower. At this moment, my life was not even worth 300,000 dollars.

I sacrificed so much for this family, but what did I get out of it?

I was not even worth 300,000 dollars!

“Stop throwing a tantrum! Your mother is sick! Could you be more mature?!” Adrian ran in and dragged Irene out.

Girls going through puberty had no care for their parents. Irene ran to her room in exasperation and slammed the door shut.

My phone rang, and I took a look at it. Oliver, who was a freshman in college, was calling.

“Mom, my friend—”

“Shut up!” I roared.

When he opened up a sentence like this, it was always followed by him asking for money to buy something, but that had nothing to do with me anymore.

Adrian came over when he heard me shouting. He stared at me dumbly for a while before sighing. “I know that you’re in a bad mood, but why are you losing your temper on Oliver?”

At night, we slept with our backs turned to each other as our minds were occupied with different things.

Finally, Adrian said, “Could it be a misdiagnosis? I’ll get someone to go with you for a re-examination tomorrow.”

“No need,” I said.

“Don’t sulk…”

“Shut up.”

“Fine. Whatever.” Adrian got exasperated and pulled the blanket over his head.

…

I was not expecting to be able to sleep soundly.

When I opened my eyes, it was already 10 a.m.

I walked out of the bedroom and found the house to be a warzone.

Adrian’s and Irene’s clothes and toys were all over the place, while leftover food was still on the table.

Usually, I would clean it all up with a grumble.

But this time, I poured myself a glass of milk and drew the curtains back to bask in the sun.

It had been a long time since I had such a relaxing time.

I lived my life like I was on the battlefield. I rushed to work, then ran back home. I dealt with all sorts of accidents and took care of them while feeling like I was at my wits’ end.

The door knob turned, and Patricia Howard, my mother-in-law, walked in and interrupted my thoughts.

Since she was not expecting me to be at home, she was stunned. Our gazes met, and she looked troubled.

She should never have been here, and certainly not with the keys of this house.

When Irene was still a child, I asked Patricia to take care of her. Worried that Patricia would feel annoyed by it, I paid her 5,000 dollars a month. I also frequently bought her gifts.

But she was still unhappy about it and often slacked off. She even thought that giving Irene milk was a waste of money.

One day, I heard her tell our neighbors that it was normal for children to spend money on their parents and in-laws. I had no right to ask her to take care of Irene!

I was no doormat and was not about to let her walk all over me, so I hired a nanny.

Patricia and I had a huge argument about it, while Adrian found himself miserable being sandwiched between us. So, he asked his mother to go back home.

When Patricia left, she did not return our house keys, which led to her always dropping by unannounced during the weekend.

One time, she barged into our room and bothered us while we were still sleeping. Adrian got mad and demanded she hand over the keys.

Her coming in this time meant that Patricia had either made a duplicate or had never returned the keys to Adrian. She was playing underhanded tricks with me.

Patricia took a look at her keys. Since she had nowhere to hide them, she could only tell me how she got them.

“Adrian gave me the keys. He asked me to come over to clean up the place.”

I understood what had happened. Adrian had to have told her that I was sick.

The moment Patricia heard that, she was trying to move back in like she owned the place.

I sneered and did not move. I wanted to see her give her performance. Based on my understanding of her, it was impossible for her to not mock me.

Patricia did not start cleaning, but sat down across from me. After some careful deliberation, she said, “I told you that one should do good instead of sowing discord, or else they’ll suffer the consequences of their actions.”

“What do you mean?” I was not expecting her to be so straightforward, and where did she get the idea that I was sowing discord?

“What else could I mean? You were trying to sour my relationship with Adrian, and now, you’re suffering the consequences.”

She grinned.

I laughed, which took her aback.

“I suppose I overestimated myself. You two are a unit. Stay together and live a good life.”

I stood up and walked to the bedroom.

When I reached the door, I said, “Clean up the place. This is your son’s house, not mine.”

Right then, my phone rang. I took a look at it. It was a call from Henry, my subordinate in the company.

“What is it?”

“You have to come over, Mrs. Howard! Something went wrong with one of our deals!” Henry then told me everything that had happened.

My subordinates were always troublesome, but I no longer wanted to clean up after them.

“I’m not going. Deal with it yourself.”

Henry was not expecting me to say that. After a brief pause, he whispered, “Mrs. Howard, you can’t just say you don’t want to deal with it and ignore us.”

“Are you all children? You always come to me when a problem arises. I don’t see myself getting any bonuses for helping you all. Earn your pay. It’s not my job to help you every single time. I’m not dealing with it. Do whatever you want.”

I was prepared to resign, so I had nothing else to say. After getting those words off my chest, I felt my mood get lighter.

When I turned around, I found Patricia sneaking looks at me. She had to have heard the conversation, and she was going to tell Adrian about it at the moment I left the house.

Suddenly, dark clouds covered the sky, so I went to the storage room to grab an umbrella.

A bunch of things spilled out when I opened the door.

They were my husband’s fishing rods, fishing lines, and fishing bait. He got hooked on fishing over the last few years and spent a lot of money buying all the tools. Of course, when he told me about how much they cost, he always lied.

If a male colleague of mine had not told me the truth, I would have never known that my seemingly plain husband was using fishing rods worth more than 10,000 dollars.

This gave me another way to calculate the value of my life, and it was worth less than thirty fishing rods.

I knew what I had to do. I turned around and said to Patricia, “You should start working. I’m going to divorce your son.”

I mentioned the divorce in a casual fashion, then grabbed my handbag and stepped out of the house.

I did not immediately leave after shutting the door.

Soon, I heard Patricia yelling inside the house.

“Adrian, your wife wants to quit her job! Yes! I heard her say that on the phone! And she wants a divorce!”

I did not want to listen anymore. The world suddenly became a joke in my eyes.

…

When Adrian came back from work, he had a sour expression. By the looks of it, he was going to settle accounts with me.

“What did you tell my mom?”

“I said that I’m going to move out and empty up the place for her. Weren’t you really eager for her to move back in?”

Adrian was rendered speechless and found himself unable to continue the conversation. After taking a moment to compose himself, he said, “Linda, I know that you’re in a bad mood because you’re sick, but you have to understand that we’re not the ones who brought this about. You can’t blame us for it.”

I stared at him and said, “Have you ever thought that perhaps you all actually are the reason why I’m sick?”

“What the… I don’t even know what to say to that!” He stood up in a rage.

“Let’s divorce then,” I offered.

The next day, we went to the courthouse to file for divorce.

After I returned home, I packed my stuff into a bag. Just as I was about to leave, I thought of something and called my mother.

She was living alone. She had been staying with my brother before, but since she could not get along with my sister-in-law, she moved out.

At almost eighty, she needed someone to take care of her. Since none of her children were rich, it was not practical to hire a caretaker for her. In the end, I was the one in charge of taking care of her.

Every afternoon, I dropped by to make lunch for her and clean up her place during lunch break, regardless of rain or shine. Even when things were bad for me, I still had to drop by. I lived this sort of life for three years.

Honestly, it was tough on my body.

I wanted to move to her place for a few days while I thought about what I was going to do in the future.

“Divorce? Why are you causing all this drama? No good woman gets a divorce.”

When my mother heard that I had filed for a divorce, she was immediately displeased.

“Women are free. If we don’t get along, we divorce.”

“What on earth are you saying?! Your husband is a pretty good man. He doesn’t flirt with other women, and he spends his money on the family. At most, he goes fishing. What’s wrong with that? Aren’t you content with it?”

The more my mother ranted, the angrier she got, as if I had committed a huge crime.

“I have cancer, and he refuses to spend money on my treatment.”

When I stated the reason, I felt as if someone had seized my throat. I choked on those words.

“What? Cancer?” My mother was silent for a moment. “You’re so troublesome. None of my friends or family have cancer!”

Her words were like knives to my heart.

I hung up while standing at the door. There was nothing more to say between us.

But then, my phone rang. The screen showed one word—Mom.

My heart skipped a beat. She was still worried about me! I answered the call right away.

“Call your sister or brother. If you can’t take care of me, let them know. Someone has to take care of me!”

I slammed my finger on the end call button, grabbed my luggage, and left.

I first moved to Jennifer’s house. She, too, was divorced, so we could keep each other company.

We then went to the hospital a few more times. My condition was bad, and Jennifer felt really down about it. She hugged me and cried.

…

One time, when I came back from the hospital, I felt exhausted.

Fortunately, my children were not around, so unlike before, I did not need to push myself to cook for them, no matter how tired I was.

Jennifer and I cooked some noodles for ourselves.

The setting sun soon vanished, and the beautiful scenery outside disappeared.

“I have an idea. Let’s go out and have fun. I’ve been trapped in my marriage for most of my life. I suddenly want to be free,” Jennifer suggested.

“Sure!” I clapped and agreed to it.

I once dreamed of traveling around the world. When I graduated from university, I thought of doing just that. At the time, I was coursemates with Adrian, and his attention was focused solely on me.

Unfortunately, I became pregnant with Oliver, and we got married in a hurry. From then on, even leaving the city became a luxury.

My life was like a prison. Each moment was like a steel bar that surrounded me. As time passed, even breathing became hard.

Adrian and I worked hard to earn money, buy a house, and prepare for Irene’s arrival. During that time, we witnessed the passing of both our fathers.

I expected to be able to escape my prison once my children became adults, but reality slapped me in the face. I could not climb out. I was supposed to be trapped forever.

It was time for me to break out and transform into a new person.

After the divorce, I got 100,000 dollars.

I could have gotten more. After all, I was one of the owners of the house, but sympathy won at the end of the day. If I had sold the house, my former family would have become homeless, and things would have been hard for them.

I was going to do as much as possible with the money I had.

Jennifer and I pooled together 180,000 dollars to buy a secondhand RV to travel around the country with her cat and dog.

She created an account called Two Ladies, One Cat, One Dog, and we streamed our journey. It was a record of the little time we had left.

Jennifer and I had studied in the same middle school. We knew each other for more than twenty years and were the best of friends.

We had supported each other throughout our lives, which was why I would say that we knew each other best in the world.

We talked about where we wanted to go. Since we were not doing this to jump on the bandwagon, we were not attracted to the popular scenic places and huge cities.

Jennifer had studied historic buildings and conservation in university. Later on, she became an insurance agent in order to make ends meet. On this journey, she could do what she liked again.

As for me, when I was younger, I loved drawing, but once the children were born, we were short on money. We did not have any spare money for me to attend art classes, so all I could do was fill up the inserted pages of books or the backs of notebooks with simple sketches.

I rewarded myself with a set of oil colors and a huge sketchboard.

Our livestream did not have any viewers. From time to time, someone would drop by but would leave after just a few minutes. We were two middle-aged women with faces marked by time. What we showed was also your typical scenery. We had no skills to boast of, and we did not know how to entertain an audience. It was no surprise then that no one was interested in what we had to show.

But we did not care. We just kept livestreaming and living every day to the fullest.

Then, out of nowhere, we went viral.

That day, we went to an old village. Apparently, it had a few monuments that dated many generations back.

It took us three days to reach the place, where a local showed us the monuments.

Jennifer started rubbing the monuments to copy their inscriptions while I set up my easel to draw.

It started pouring in the evening, and we ran back to our RV.

I made ginger tea and played Bressanone under a dim light.

That was how our evening passed. We listened to the rain and drank tea while our minds were occupied by different thoughts. Sometimes, we exchanged glances and smiled.

The cat and dog huddled together and slept.

This was what peace and quiet felt like. It was nothing special.

When I woke up the next day, out of habit, I checked our view count.

The number was so long that I felt dizzy. We had gone viral.