My autobiography is definitely not a tragedy!
Chapter 49 - 48 Losing Badly

Chapter 49: Chapter 48 Losing Badly

"Ugh~"

Coming out of the hospital, Meng Lang couldn’t help but retch.

"Instant karma..."

He had just finished a friendly session of medical enlightenment, yet the side effects immediately manifested in him.

The side effects of the painless gastroscopy actually vary from person to person and are also related to how "gently" the doctor inserts the endoscope.

Some people feel nothing after the procedure, while others swear they’d rather die than undergo another gastroscopy.

Meng Lang only felt a bit nauseous, which was already considered a mild reaction.

The final examination results showed nothing abnormal. Other than a bit of mild gastritis and being advised to maintain a good diet, there were no obvious polyps or lesions found.

"In this case, it seems I’m currently in the ’early sprout’ stage of gastric cancer. Good, good, there’s still time to save me..."

Although the progression from early to advanced stages of gastric cancer is rather quick, the formation of gastric cancer is a relatively long process.

It can generally be divided into several stages: "chronic superficial gastritis," "atrophic gastritis," "intestinal metaplasia," "dysplasia," and finally "gastric cancer."

The whole process usually spans 6 to 10 years, which roughly corresponds to the ten-year period of "Meng Lang’s" illness onset.

As for why Meng Lang suddenly knew all this so clearly...

"Ah Lang, in this life, you indeed did not misplace your effort... It’s just a pity that you couldn’t hold on to the end." Meng Lang couldn’t help but feel regret.

Two years of self-taught medical knowledge allowed him to outsmart the ignorant mandarin ducks; had he continued his informal education for another ten or eight years, even if he couldn’t catch up with professional doctors, he would at least be able to kick the backstreet clinics, right?

The learning time from a novice to an expert is seven years, but the "10,000-hour rule" doesn’t seem to apply to him.

Meng Lang gave it a new name— the "24-hour rule"!

This time, his "Super Space-Time Wave Tribe" attribute played a role once again, allowing Meng Lang to fumble out some kind of "user guide."

Firstly, the reception of these signals definitely does not follow the chronological order of his autobiographical episodes; otherwise, he should have become an amateur lawyer first, then a medical layman.

From the conditions during the three times he received "signals," it was more like a "scene-triggered" mechanism.

It’s similar to an amnesiac trying to regain their memories; a familiar scene is more likely to evoke emotions, thereby opening the "doors of memory" in the brain.

In other words, in similar scenes, it helps enhance the "synchronization rate" between the two Meng Langs.

Thankfully, it’s this kind of "scene-triggered" synchronization and not a direct, brute-force merging of memories; otherwise, after a few more updates, Meng Lang probably wouldn’t be able to distinguish who he really was, and most likely, he would end up with a split personality.

Checking the time, he first sent Lin Haitang a message via Fly Message, then went to the roadside and hailed a taxi.

"Driver, to Qing Song Primary School."

The taxi slowly started...

No sooner had he left than a bus drove into the gates of Su City First Affiliated Hospital from behind where he was standing.

Inside the bus, a dozen men and women of varying ages.

"Wow, this is the First Affiliated Hospital? The environment here is so much better than our hospital."

"Yes! Su City’s reputation for gardens is well-deserved; this kind of environment is also more conducive to patients’ recovery."

"Hey there, Xiao Lu, even though we’re here to exchange and learn, it wouldn’t hurt if you occasionally gave some non-academic feedback, OK?"

"We’re here to exchange knowledge, not to go on vacation."

"You workaholic! Why do I have to share a room with you? Oh heavens! Please send down a salted fish!"

The young woman who was gazing out the window couldn’t help but laugh before turning to her quirky companion.

"Maybe... it’s just fate."

Smiling like a blooming flower, with a teardrop mole by her eye like a dot of pistil...

...

When you plot out fate, fate also plots out you...

At the very least, Meng Lang had never thought that one day he would be among a crowd of parents, eagerly awaiting to pick up his child from school.

"Our Xiao Bao loves meat, but her mom won’t let her have much, citing calorie control, saying body management should start young.

Now tell me, for a child so young, what’s more important, growing up healthy or maintaining a figure?"

"It’s good to have an appetite. Our little tyrant is picky and always has been skinny, it breaks my heart. Look, only when I pick him up from school can I sneak him some snacks he loves, because his mom keeps a tight leash when she’s home!"

"My wife, all she does is enroll the kid in this class and that; the kid gets less playtime than the duration it takes for my old man to smoke a cigarette."

This was the grandparents’ chat group.

"Has your child passed the KET? Ours is preparing for the PET; those registration slots are hard to grab, they sell out in seconds!"

"My kid has reached Czerny 599 and Beyer’s second book in piano; we’re planning to go for the exams next year."

"Oh really? We’ve just got the piano Grade 8 down. This summer, we must conquer Grade 10; she’s starting third grade next term, has to focus on academics, no time for hobby classes."

"I work in project management, but managing my child’s summer activities has been the toughest project I’ve ever taken on!"

"Besides a study tour in Europe and one in the US, we have to fill the rest of the time with courses. Distance isn’t the issue—it’s the availability of top teachers. Having to choose between conflicting schedules is just too hard!"

This is a parent’s arms race chatroom...

Meng Lang looked here and there, feeling as though he had preemptively entered a version of hell.

"Dude, you’re so young, also here to pick up your kid?"

That’s when a man beside him offered a cigarette. Meng Lang turned to look and found a man in his thirties, somewhat overweight.

From his attire, it was clear that he was a small business owner with decent economic power.

"Yeah, I don’t smoke, but thanks."

The middle-aged man didn’t take offense and lit one up for himself.

Meng Lang frowned, thinking about leaving, but felt it wouldn’t be polite to do so.

It wasn’t so much about the man, but secondhand smoke was still damaging to what little precious lifespan I had left.

He moved a couple of steps to the side to get the upper hand in the wind’s direction.

"Bro, what grade is your kid in?" the middle-aged man asked in a familiar way.

"Hmm..."

First grade or second grade? I hadn’t had the chance to ask.

But luckily, it seemed as if the other didn’t really care about the answer—it was just an icebreaker, and he continued on regardless.

"My kid’s in second grade. His grades are pretty good, smart as a whip, but too naughty for his own good.

Avoiding handwriting classes, he says he prefers drawing, then when we put him in art, he says he prefers animation and wants to learn that! Can you believe it?"

"Well, it’s good for kids to have their own interests, heh heh," Meng Lang said, feeling helpless.

"Interests? The things these kids are into these days... there are so many, just toys alone could fill a room. A little suit can cost a five-figure sum, a model airplane set runs into the thousands, and any old extracurricular class costs tens of thousands for a semester.

Just yesterday, the little guy was making demands, saying if he did well, I’d have to buy him an Iron Man suit.

It’s only a few small pieces, and yet they cost a fortune. If I wasn’t earning well, our family savings wouldn’t even cover the cost of this gold-devouring creature."

Meng Lang was speechless.

Damn! This turned out to be a group for bragging about wealth?

As they were talking, a group of children ran out of the school gates like galloping wild horses.

For a moment, calls from grandparents, fathers, and mothers overlapped, creating a scene that rivaled the release of divine beasts.

"Dad! Dad!" A plump little boy ran over with excitement on his face.

"Hey! My treasure!" The middle-aged man hugged the chubby boy tightly and planted a kiss on his face.

"Dad! I got second place in the mock exam for my whole class, you said if I got into the top three you’d buy me the Iron Man suit!"

"Is that right? My awesome son, sure, sure, sure! Dad will buy it for you tonight!"

For a moment, father and son were joyous, sharing a harmonious delight.

"Uncle!" Just then, an excited voice called out, and Xiao Yu hugged Meng Lang’s arm.

"Uncle, you really came to pick me up?"

"Of course, would I lie to a kid?" Meng Lang answered with a smile, patting Xiao Yu’s head.

"Xiao Yu?" The little plump boy in the arms of the middle-aged man expressed his surprise.

"Hmm?" Xiao Yu then noticed the chubby boy beside her.

"Wang Zikai, it’s you!"

"You know each other? That’s quite a coincidence, brother," the middle-aged man said to Meng Lang with a smile.

"Yeah! Dad, you have no idea, Xiao Yu is amazing, she always comes first in class," the plump boy said with an idolizing twinkle in his eyes.

The middle-aged man: "..."

"Ahem! Bro, we’ll be heading off first, it was nice chatting with you!" Meng Lang said, waving goodbye with a smile.

I promised not to initiate the "child comparison" race, but if it really came down to it, I wouldn’t be scared!

Xiao Yu also politely said goodbye to the two before excitedly linking arms with Meng Lang and heading home.

"Uncle, let’s go buy groceries, I just asked the teacher for some recipes, and I’m sure you’ll be satisfied with the results!"

"I can’t wait."

The figures of the tall adult and small child gradually disappeared at the street corner, leaving only the middle-aged man with a complex expression on his face.

This overwhelming sense of defeat...