I am terminally ill, but I am healing the world with my songs

The audience in the live stream couldn't hold it in any longer.

Life is full of countless bumps and hardships.

Whenever this happens, people fantasize about "her" appearing by their side.

He doesn't ask for much, just understanding, companionship, and comfort.

But most of the time, "she" never existed.

The only one who can understand him, accompany him, and comfort him is himself.

In the most difficult times...

Only oneself can save oneself from misery.

He is the present him, she is the future him.

She is the non-existent him, she is also the her in his imagination.

Under Wen He's singing.

They saw their darkest times.

However, compared to before when they were supporting themselves alone.

This time, there was an extra figure in the picture.

That figure was as pure as snow and as dazzling as the sun.

In the darkest times, she was always by his side.

"I hope you ~ are loved by this world ~"

"Someone to comfort you when you cry ~ someone to talk to when you're tired ~"

"Your wounds ~ will be understood by someone ~"

"The happiness you want ~ won't be too tortuous ~"

The sudden gentleness and salvation completely broke down the audience in the live stream.

They never thought that they, such ordinary people, could also receive blessings from others.

They once thought that all the good things in the world had nothing to do with them.

But who would have thought that strangers, separated by just a screen, would bring them unprecedented warmth.

The closest people to them often fail to understand them.

Perhaps...

It's not that strangers can understand you, but that strangers were once you.

Someone struggled to climb out of the mud, and when they looked back and saw others still trapped, they couldn't help but want to lend a hand.

Because only they know the despair and coldness of being alone in the mud with no one around.

And those who have climbed out of the mud on their own always lack a sense of security in their hearts.

Because they know that in the darkest times, only they can be relied on, and no one will come to pull them out.

They also hoped so much...

Hoping that someone would comfort them when they cried, hoping that someone could talk to them when they were tired, hoping that someone could understand their pain.

Immersed in the singing, they saw the "her" in their imagination gradually becoming clearer...

Until their blurred eyes saw Wen He in the screen.

Crystal clear tears fell from their cheeks.

But they felt unparalleled warmth in their hearts.

Wen He's song saved them.

Wen He will always be by their side.

He will quietly listen to the voices suppressed in their hearts.

He will be by their side when they feel lost about the future.

He will send them warmth after their tiring work.

"I hope you ~ can be treated kindly by life ~"

"No one ~ will laugh at your uniqueness ~"

"The road you take ~ will be paved with flowers ~"

"The future will get better ~ even if it's slowly ~"

As Wen He's voice gradually dissipated, the audience in the live stream still hadn't recovered.

When they realized it was over.

The live stream had already closed as usual.

[Damn, the lethality is really too strong. Fortunately, I am resourceful and foresaw something was wrong, so I prepared a pack of tissues in advance.]

[I really want to know what Wen He has experienced...]

[Why doesn't he keep his live stream open longer? I was immersed in his singing and couldn't help myself. By the time I came back to my senses, the live stream was closed, and there was no way to send gifts.]

[Now do you understand why gifts were flying non-stop as soon as Wen He started broadcasting?]

[If you don't send gifts when he starts broadcasting, you won't have a chance to send them after he sings. You listen to the song and directly reach a state of forgetting yourself, and then he quickly ends the broadcast. Can you handle this?]

...

...

The audience, having been redeemed, were all marveling at the beauty and warmth brought by Wen He's song.

And Wen He, who sang this song, coughed to the point of wanting to die as usual.

The severe pain in his chest made it almost impossible for him to breathe.

The intense feeling of suffocation forced him to breathe with all his might.

"Cough cough! Uh, cough cough cough!! Cough! Cough cough cough!!"

The violent coughing caused Wen He, who was already in great pain, to choke on another mouthful of blood.

For him now, this was tantamount to adding insult to injury.

He could barely maintain any reason or action.

The hellish pain lasted for ten minutes.

Wen He lay weakly on the ground covered in blood, his body already soaked in cold sweat. He was like someone who had wandered on the edge of life and death, and his dull eyes seemed infinitely decadent and desperate.

Having stayed up all night, he had no energy left after such torment.

Wen He fell asleep on the cold floor.

Until the sun set and the sunset dyed the sky red.

Hearing the faint sound of the door opening, Wen He gradually woke up.

At the moment he regained his senses, he suddenly sat up as if facing a formidable enemy.

"It's over..."

"I didn't do any housework today... I didn't cook dinner either..."

"What to do... what to do..."

Looking at the large patch of blood that had already congealed on the ground, Wen He felt like the sky was falling.

"Wen He!" Wen He's father's angry roar suddenly came from the living room.

This startled Wen He and made him shiver. Great fear was like a devil climbing up his spine.

His fear of his father was already deeply ingrained in his bones.

Facing him, Wen He couldn't muster the slightest intention to resist.

That had already become Wen He's lingering shadow.

Wen He walked out of the room tremblingly.

"Ah!!!"

Wen Ze screamed in fright at his bloody appearance and quickly hid behind Wen He's father.

When Wen He's father saw him like this, his brows furrowed.

"What did you do?" he asked.

"No... nothing... I just coughed a little badly..."

Wen He lowered his head, his voice as small as a mosquito. He didn't dare to look Wen He's father in the eye at all.

"The bowls and chopsticks from the morning are still in the sink, dinner hasn't been cooked, the floor hasn't been swept, and the clothes haven't been washed. What have you been doing all day, coughing yourself to death?" Wen He's father asked coldly.

"I'm sorry." Wen He didn't know how to explain.

"You should know how old you are. We didn't raise you to enjoy yourself at home."

"..."

"Your mother said that she found a factory that is willing to take you. Go there tomorrow."

Hearing this, Wen He's heart suddenly trembled. He quickly pleaded, "Dad... I..."

"What, do you want me to beg you to go?" Wen He's father's eyes had a cold and piercing ferocity.

"I understand..."

Wen He raised his head and lowered it again.