Final Chapter | We Didn’t Win, but We Walked Together Until Dawn

Gu Chen was never rushed into the emergency room again.

After that day, he entered a state that was extremely fragile yet stable.
Like a candle flickering in the wind, yet… it truly hadn’t gone out.

The doctors called it a miracle.
Lin Nian knew better.

It wasn’t a miracle.

It was that he no longer dared to die.

For the tiny, unformed heartbeat in her womb.
For her words—
“You don’t have a way out anymore.”

She began living in the hospital.

By day, she cleaned him, fed him water, recorded every single piece of data.
By night, she curled up on the fold-out cot, one hand holding his, the other protecting her belly.

Gu Chen would wake occasionally.

And whenever he did, the first two things he always checked were—
She was there.
The baby was there.

Once, seeing how much thinner her face had become, he whispered:

“Nian Nian… I’m sorry.”

She shook her head.

“Don’t say that.
As long as you’re alive, that’s enough.”

Gu Chen smiled lightly.

“I used to think that loving you meant taking all the pain away from you.
Later, I realized… some pains must be endured together.”

Lin Nian lowered her head, burying her face in the palm of his hand.

“Do you understand now?”

“I do,” he said. “So this time… I’m not leaving.”

When the baby was three months old, Gu Chen was pushed out of the hospital in a wheelchair for the first time.

The sunlight that day was perfect.

Lin Nian tied his scarf carefully, her fingers trembling the entire time.

“Cold?”

Gu Chen shook his head.

“No… I’m just a little… in disbelief.”

Disbelief that he could still live, see the sunlight, see her.

Lin Nian stood by his side, her hand naturally resting on her belly.

“Slowly believe it,” she said. “We have time.”

She spoke softly.
Because she knew—time was not necessarily abundant.
But it was precious enough.

Gu Chen never fully recovered.

His life was prolonged, yet remained fragile.

But they learned a new way of living—
Never to expect tomorrow too much,
And never to waste today.

When their child was born, Gu Chen waited outside the delivery room for twelve hours straight.

When the nurse finally brought the baby out, he cried like a man utterly unmoored.

Lin Nian, weak and lying on the bed, couldn’t help but smile at the sight.

“You’re crying even harder than I am.”

Gu Chen came to her side, carefully holding the baby’s tiny hand.

So small. So warm.

“Nian Nian,” he said, “thank you.”

Thank you for not giving up on me.
Thank you for keeping me here, in the world.

Gu Chen stayed with them for three years.

During those three years, his body fluctuated between strength and weakness, yet he remained awake, fully present.

He watched the child learn to call “Daddy.”
He watched Lin Nian on the balcony at night, looking at the city lights.
And on some very quiet nights, he leaned against her shoulder and slowly fell asleep.

On that day, there were no alarms.

No emergency calls.

He simply whispered:

“Nian Nian… I’m a little sleepy.”

Lin Nian nodded and held him gently.

“Sleep.”
“This time… I’m here.”

He left quietly.

As if finally at peace.

Years later, their child had grown sensible enough to ask Lin Nian:

“Mom, is Dad strong?”

Lin Nian smiled, running her hand over his head.

“Very strong.
He won against fate, even if just for a short while.”

Outside, the sunlight was just right.

Lin Nian stood there, and she didn’t cry.

She had lost him once.
And yet, he had stayed with her gently, walking her through the hardest years.

This was no longer a tragedy.

This was—
The result of loving as much as one possibly could.