Zhang Heng quietly listened to Fan Meinan's story and made no comments. Instead, he asked, "How much time do you have left?"
"What do you mean? My condition? It's deteriorated to stage four about two months ago. If I'm fast, it'll only be two to three months. Optimistically, I probably still have another six months," Fan Meinan said. "Why? Do you still want to come to my funeral?"
"I've been busy with some things recently, so I don't think I'll be able to find the time." Zhang Heng threw the empty Coke can into the trash can and pulled out his phone. He typed something on it, and as soon as the first email was sent out, he wrote a second one.