“Hey Ethan, do you rember Mrs. Miller?” Scarlett asked as she forked a atball into his mouth.
Ethan was just enjoying his al when he heard her, and he paused, drawing a blank on Mrs. Miller.
“She was in the VIP ward upstairs, ca over to say hi when you were admitted,” Scarlett added, then ntioned, “She was the one wearing those sheer embossed black stockings that day.”
“Oh! Now I rember.” The ntion of the stockings brought an image to Ethan’s mind: a well-dressed woman with wavy brown hair, always looking a bit lancholic.
Her legs were long and clad in those unusual embossed stockings, the epito of a wealthy lady.
That day, his attention had been all on those sexy long legs in black stockings. He hadn’t really paid attention to what she and his aunt were talking about.
“Hmph.” Scarlett sounded resigned. ntion stockings and suddenly he rembers. Did he store mories in stockings or sothing?
She quickly speared another atball and stuffed it into his mouth, filling it up: “She was hoping you could find ti to talk to her son, Ryan.”
“Huh?” Ethan looked puzzled, wondering about the sense in having a patient, listed as paralyzed, chat with another in intensive care.
What were they supposed to talk about? Who’d die first?
And that na, Ryan, it strangely rang a bell.
“Mrs. Miller’s son, Ryan, is in the late stages of heart disease,” Scarlett said, her eyes flickering with pity. “She feels like he’s keeping sothing to himself and doesn’t want to tell her. She doesn’t want him to leave with any regrets and hopes you might talk to him, maybe help find so answers.”
Ethan’s mouth twitched. Right now, all he could think about was making money, not joining so patient support group.
“It’s up to you,” Scarlett said, setting down her fork. “I’ll always stand by you.”
Talking about life and death was always heavy.
“Yeah.” Ethan nodded. “Don’t worry, Auntie, I’ll keep going for you.”
Scarlett paused, then smiled, leaning in so their foreheads touched. “For , keep going.”
This ti, it was Ethan who was stunned. He could sense a subtle change in his aunt’s deanor.
Before he could ponder it further, Scarlett picked up her lunchbox and left.
The next day.
Blair sat on the bed, flipping through a magazine.
Ethan stared at the ceiling. “Blair, do you think there’s any chance for as a male adult film actor?”
“Are you serious?” Blair looked up, his expression odd.
“Yeah, I can’t think of any other way to make money,” Ethan sighed. “I an, if it helps lighten Auntie’s load, being a male adult film actor isn’t off the table.”
He had thought it through.
Given his current situation, the system was just a trap.
“Just avoid the weird films,” Ethan said earnestly. “The female leads in the legit ones aren’t bad, and with so luck, I might even run into a celebrity or two.”
Celebrities, huh? Just a touch of their fa could skyrocket his own popularity, making any future endeavors much easier.
Blair frowned, seemingly taking his suggestion seriously.
“I’m not even worried about not getting picked.” Ethan was confident in his 9-inch “pecker.”
With the system-given skill, Hard as a rock, if he really went into adult films, he could definitely make a na for himself in the industry.
That way, even if he couldn’t complete the system’s tasks, he could at least leave so money for his aunt, easing their financial worries.
“But you have a heart condition,” Blair pointed out seriously. “You have to submit a dical report before you can act in films, right? If they see your report, I doubt any director would want to take that risk.”
“Right,” Ethan muttered, nodding in agreent. “Maybe I should just collaborate with so internet celebrities instead.”
The internet had revolutionized the film industry, turning anyone with a smartphone into a potential director, and naturally, so were making money from it.
Just then, there was a knock at the door of the hospital room.
Ethan shivered and quickly lay back down on the bed.
“Who is it?” Blair got up to answer the door.
The door swung open, revealing a graceful figure in the doorway.
“Sorry, I hope I’m not disturbing you,” Mrs. Miller said to Blair with a smile, adjusting her wavy brown hair and wearing a look of mild sorrow.
She was about 5 feet 3 inches tall, slender as if a breeze might knock her over.
Ethan’s gaze fell first on her legs, again sheathed in sheer embossed black stockings paired with black high heels.
The lace pattern, reminiscent of butterflies, added a unique sexiness to her long legs.
After entering, Mrs. Miller managed a smile at Ethan, though her sadness was barely concealed.
“Is there sothing you need?” Ethan already knew what she was going to ask and was quickly thinking of how to politely decline.
Despite her fragile beauty, she was here to talk about her son, Ryan.
But right now, Ethan’s mind was solely focused on making money, devoid of any other worldly desires.
“My son had a crisis last night and just ca out of the critical phase,” Mrs. Miller said, her eyes tired and sad, getting straight to the point without any small talk.
“As a mother, I can feel he’s hiding sothing from , but I don’t want to press him. Ethan, could I ask you to talk to him?”
She didn’t start with the usual pleasantries people often do when asking for favors.
Perhaps in her eyes, such a request was too much and absurd, and she was prepared to be turned down.
“Mrs. Miller,” Ethan began, about to refuse, when suddenly a system interface popped up in front of him.
“Last Wish System, at your service.”
“Mission Na: Ryan’s Last Wish.”
“Mission Description: Help Ryan fulfill his last wish. Reward Points: 1000.”
“Mrs. Miller,” Ethan said, his voice tinged with empathy, “I deeply understand the pain of being tornted by illness, and the helplessness you feel as a mother. I too have lain in a hospital bed, unable to move, wishing for soone to reach out, even just to talk.”
Hope sparked in Mrs. Miller’s weary, sad eyes as she looked at Ethan incredulously.
Ethan gave her a reassuring look. “Having been through the storm myself, I hope for clear skies, ah, no, to provide an umbrella for others.”
Mrs. Miller’s eyes welled up, and she turned her head away, covering her face with her hand. “Thank… thank you. I don’t even know what to say.”
“It’s okay, I understand,” Ethan said earnestly. “Mrs. Miller, you just want Ryan to have no regrets. Blair, push over there.”
“Uh?” Blair was taken aback, staring at him. “Do we need to rush this?”
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