"Little girl, there's no need to comfort me anymore, I know my own body all too well."
A bitter expression crossed the face of Evan Smythe lying in the hospital bed as he waved his hand at his son, Max Smythe, "Anthony Fisher is right; my illness is incurable, there's no medicine, no doctor that can save me—it's time to prepare for the end."
Max's eyes reddened instantly, he stepped forward and took the middle-aged man's hand, "Dad, nothing will happen to you! Principal Cox introduced me to the world's top surgical expert, she said she can perform your surgery, she must be able to do it!"
The middle-aged man managed a bitter smile, as if to indulge his son's attempt to cheer him up.
Laying in the hospital bed all these days, even though his son and his old friend Principal Cox never mentioned anything about surgery, he had pretty much guessed it.
After decades in the throngs of the business world, he could see through other people's thoughts at a glance.