"Crossing mountains and rivers to reach me" was Xiaolu's WeChat name.
It was also the truest reflection of his journey fighting cancer.Despite being bound by illness and facing a rugged path ahead, he always held onto his passion, growing toward the sun with unwavering resilience, and eagerly hoping for beautiful things to come his way.June 4 was Xiaolu's birthday. Yet this young man, full of warmth and kindness, ultimately could not cross the barrier of his illness. He never reached his 22nd birthday, never waited for another clear sky, and never saw the mountains and rivers rushing toward him.In January 2026, after countless battles with his disease, this smiling, sensible young man who fought so hard to live could not survive the winter. He hurriedly said goodbye to this world he loved so deeply.On this day belonging to children, filled with innocence and carefree joy, we use words as remembrance and gentleness as a vessel to quietly tell his story. Looking back at his brief yet brilliant life, we honor a soul forever kind, forever sincere and pure.May he return to being a carefree child in another world, free from illness and disaster, innocent and bright, with sunny days every year, forever happy.The following content is compiled from Tiantian, Sister Lun, and Brother Ming.—————
Author丨Tiantian & Zhong Lala
Editor丨Zhong Lala
Reviewer丨Guangguang
「 I. Early Summer Glimmer: He Stepped into the Gloom, Bringing His Own Light 」
In May 2025, as the early summer breeze brought warmth, the peritoneal group welcomed a special new friend—Xiaolu.
What made him special was his youth—he was a college student about to turn 21;What made him special was his cuteness—he often shared adorable stickers in the group, especially one of a little mouse licking a lollipop.What made him special was his optimism—from the day he joined, he was always cheerful, chatting with everyone in the lightest tone, as if his illness were just a trivial cold.The atmosphere in the peritoneal group was always somewhat heavy. Everyone here was trudging along the dark, long road of fighting cancer, with much of their joy worn away by illness.Xiaolu's arrival was like a stone dropped into stagnant water, gently rippling with warmth, bringing light and vitality into this gloom-filled community.At that time, he had just been diagnosed with colorectal cancer, already accompanied by peritoneal metastasis. The pathology showed a highly aggressive poorly differentiated adenocarcinoma with signet ring cell carcinoma, and genetic testing revealed KRAS/NRAS/BRAF wild-type.Yet this young college student never uttered a word of discouragement, nor complained about fate's cruelty.Exceptionally bright, it didn't take him long after joining to thoroughly study all the treatment materials in the group announcements. He fully understood the treatment approaches and chemotherapy regimens for peritoneal metastasis.Even more remarkable was that he never shied away from his condition. He had clear ideas about his treatment plan, calmly cooperated with doctors, and firmly worked toward survival.Beneath his seemingly naive exterior lay a clarity and resilience far beyond his years.When group members felt depressed about their conditions, he would step up to offer warm encouragement, using his own experience to tell them "don't give up." When others were confused about treatment plans, he patiently answered questions with his knowledge, gently soothing every patient's anxiety.Gradually, because of Xiaolu, the once heavy and gloomy peritoneal group filled with laughter. Everyone could occasionally shed their heavy burdens, chat lightly, keep each other company, and share warmth.Though he was the one who needed care and comfort the most, he gave his all to be everyone's little sun, sharing gentleness and strength with everyone around him.Walking this perilous road of fighting cancer, Xiaolu didn't just focus on his own journey; instead, he became a beam of light illuminating everyone.「 II. Warm Sun in the Human World: He Was a Little Sun, Saving Himself and Others 」
Xiaolu's voice was soft, sweet, and healing like a little kitten's. Every time we heard his voice messages, all fatigue and anxiety seemed to melt away gently.Group members loved to joke with him, asking him to tell bedtime stories. He always agreed with a smile, his eyes full of childlike gentleness.He loved life so deeply, so attached to the warmth of everyday living.He couldn't live without all kinds of sweet drinks, saying it was one of the greatest meanings of his life. He loved mango pomelo sago but disliked the grapefruit bits, playfully complaining they "tasted like poison" when he ate them. Spicy hot pot, barbecue, hotpot, and braised chicken were all his favorite foods. Whenever he ate something he liked, he would happily share it in the group, his satisfaction impossible to hide.After each chemotherapy session, he would call it "getting off the little backpack," then treat himself to good food.That passion for life never dimmed, even under the torment of illness.Whenever he felt a bit better, he would invite classmates out. When talking about his friends, his eyes shone with pride. He would carefully share photos and videos, chattering about campus life. That simple, little happiness was truly felt even through the screen.The wind held his youthful laughter, the lens reflected his pure face. Those tiny fragments of classrooms, playgrounds, and walking side by side were carefully treasured and gently recounted by him.This unadulterated joy, like a faint light, pierced through the gloom of illness, illuminating his long road of fighting cancer, and gently touching everyone who heard it with its purity and strength.At school, Xiaolu was always warm and kind, especially enthusiastic about public welfare. He could always be seen busy at various volunteer activities.He always treated people and handled matters with sincere devotion, once saying earnestly:"Kindness flows both ways. The good deeds we do will eventually come back to reward us."These words are still engraved in our hearts. A young man so pure and kind, who spent his life spreading gentleness and treating the world with warmth, had to bear the torment of illness alone. Every time we think of it, we feel a deep ache and endless heartache.「 III. Through Wind and Rain: Illness Wore Down His Body, But His Original Heart Never Changed 」
Yet the cruelty of his illness far exceeded our imagination.Xiaolu was not very sensitive to chemotherapy. Round after round, the agony of vomiting and fatigue tormented him day and night, yet the tumor continued to progress.In August 2025, he developed an obstruction and underwent an ileostomy surgery. As soon as he barely recovered post-op, he immediately returned to the group to report he was safe, still smiling and encouraging everyone, as if those piercing pains had never touched him.
Even when feeling unwell all over, he never stopped warming others. Whenever he had a moment, he would answer questions and keep company with group members.On his cancer journey, hardships never ceased.During treatment, he consulted internal medicine and surgical experts multiple times, but was told surgery wasn't an option as his condition didn't meet the criteria. He could only rely on systemic chemotherapy to maintain his health.Hope was ignited time and again, only to be ruthlessly shattered. Anyone else might have been broken long ago, but Xiaolu never refused to admit defeat.He would secretly wipe away his tears, then turn around and appear in the group with optimism again, continuing to warm and encourage everyone. That strength made our hearts ache to the bone.In September, Xiaolu also attended an online exchange meeting for peritoneal metastasis patients in the Panda Group.He smiled as he showed his carefully prepared resume—originally his confidence for the autumn campus recruitment fair. The pages were filled with the achievements, experiences, and honors a college student had accumulated over time, every word shining with the brilliance of a young man's hard work.This outstanding resume, meant for the job market to pave a bright future, now appeared at a disease exchange meeting. The stark reality brought a sour ache to our hearts.Yet Xiaolu was never trapped by the gloom. Throughout the exchange, his eyes remained bright, his tone light and sunny.He calmly and generously introduced his past experiences. Even when speaking of his severe illness and suffering, he did so with calmness, without a hint of despair or complaint. His eyes still held the unique passion and openness of youth.Had it not been for this sudden, stubborn disease, with his effort and talent, he would surely have reached his heart's desire, held a promising future in his hands, and stepped into a brilliant future full of blooming flowers, with boundless openness and light.「 IV. A Sudden Glimmer: An Expectation, Ultimately a Regret 」
In December 2025, as Xiaolu's primary tumor in the duodenum grew larger and larger, tightening all our hearts, a turning point finally appeared—the internal medicine department initiated a multidisciplinary consultation, and the surgical team was willing to try an operation for him.That day, Xiaolu was overjoyed. We all thought this gentle, kind young man had finally weathered all the storms and would be blessed by fate at last.Yet we ultimately underestimated the viciousness of signet ring cell carcinoma.During the days waiting for surgery, ascites returned like tides, drained and refilled, refilled and drained, tormenting him day and night.The immense physical and mental pressure kept him awake night after night. Doctors prescribed antidepressants, but they had little effect.On the hardest nights, he was in such agony he hit the wall and blamed himself. But as soon as he eased slightly, his first thought was still for others, pretending to be relaxed and comforting us: "I'm much better, don't worry about me."He was too sensible, so sensible that even in his own purgatory, he didn't want those around him to worry.On January 9, 2026, Brother Ming and Sister Yangyang ordered delicious food for Xiaolu, and he managed to eat a little. The next day, Tiantian ordered him breakfast, but he said apologetically, "Sister Tiantian, I'm heading to the hospital first, I'll eat later."No one expected that from this day on, he gradually began fasting, relying only on painkillers and antidepressants to hold on. Yet even so, he never showed a hint of retreat, never gave up hope, always holding onto his resilience, waiting for hospital admission and surgery.On January 12, Xiaolu finally got a hospital bed.He completed the admission procedures, eagerly anticipating the surgery, actively cooperating with every preoperative check. His mental state improved greatly. Sister Yangyang also arranged to accompany him. We all silently hoped a miracle would happen.Yet fate played its cruelest joke. On the second day of admission, the surgeon found Xiaolu's parents and regretfully informed them: the surgery could not be performed.After returning from Beijing to Liaoning Cancer Hospital, Xiaolu's various physical indicators remained poor, and he could no longer undergo chemotherapy.Later, he developed another obstruction at the duodenum. Doctors tried to insert a tube but couldn't get it through. He curled up in agony, and they had to remove the tube.Yet he still tried to hold on. "At least don't remove the tube before tomorrow morning." Even after two failed attempts, he just blamed himself like a child who made a mistake, saying "I'm not strong enough," never complaining about fate's unfairness.Director Dong's words, "It's okay, come anytime, I'll always take you in, I'm forever your backup and support," kept him going. Every time he mentioned Director Dong, he would type out many words of praise. That sincerity and gratitude were deeply moving.When the morphine took effect and he felt slightly better, he specially visited his grandfather—he said he hadn't seen him in over half a year and missed him terribly.He playfully hid the infusion pump in his arms, proudly telling us, "Grandpa didn't notice, I slipped past him." That sensibility, that careful gentleness, brought tears to all our eyes.Though he himself was in a desperate situation, he was still trying hard to protect the peace of mind of those around him.「 V. Wind Carries Longing: He Has Not Left, His Light Remains Forever 」
On January 19, 2026, Xiaolu was discharged from the hospital.At 10:30 AM the same day, a message from Sister Lun shattered all our lingering hopes: Xiaolu had passed away, forever leaving this world full of life that couldn't keep him.
After Xiaolu left, I quietly removed him from all the peritoneal groups. Yet every patient in the group deeply remembers his gentleness, kindness, and strength, remembering this little sun who once illuminated us.I once thought of finding experts in Shanghai to re-evaluate his condition, but due to hesitation and fear in my heart, afraid the consultation wouldn't give the answer I wanted, I ultimately didn't run around for him anymore.I still remember clearly the day it was confirmed surgery was possible. Xiaolu's joyful, leaping demeanor was just like a child eating sweet candy.Once, he went to the hospital early in the morning for a painkiller injection, then hurried to Beijing. On the way, he messaged me: "The medicine is kicking in. It's so good, I can sleep for a while."Those few words instantly brought tears to my eyes—this little boy hadn't had a proper sleep for far too long.On the day the surgery failed, Xiaolu messaged me crying. Those words "can't do the surgery" pierced my heart. I hurriedly called him. On the other end was only his helpless crying, "Sister Tiantian, what do I do? I can't have the surgery."I used all my strength to comfort him. His emotions slowly calmed, and he even cheered himself up, saying firmly: "It's okay, I won't give up."Later he told me that without my call that day, he probably wouldn't have held on.He pinky-promised me that no matter how bitter or hard the treatment became, he would grit his teeth and persevere, cooperating fully with the therapy.He messaged us: "In the next life, I'll be friends with everyone again, and a son to my parents again. And in the life after that, too." The moment I saw those words, my heart was filled with mixed feelings. Countless times I opened his chat window, wanting to call him and keep him company, but the words caught in my throat, leaving only pale, powerless silence.I have regretted countless times, regretting not having the courage then to properly keep him company and say goodbye. He was so sensible, so easy to comfort. Just a simple word of companionship might have been a glimmer of light in his deep darkness.
Listening to "A Diao" all morning, thinking of Xiaolu... I've been reluctant to write because I've always harbored some resentment toward this well-behaved child.I first met Xiaolu in the peritoneal atmosphere group. That kid who always sent a sticker of a little mouse holding a bowl and brushing his teeth, with a gentle and cute chatting style. I once thought he was a girl, only to later learn he was a sunny, cheerful, tall boy with two rows of neat white teeth when he smiled, a clean-cut sophomore.Excellent as he was, he was also stacked with all the malignant buffs of tumor biology.During those days fighting cancer together at Liaoning Cancer Hospital, I held his hand alongside his mother as we accompanied him through tube insertion and ascites drainage. When he didn't eat well, I would scold both him and Mr. Song. He would drag his long drainage tube, curl up on the hospital bed with me, and gossip with Mr. Song. He would also cry and tell me: "Sister Lun, I don't want the tube anymore, it's so uncomfortable."When the pain was unbearable and he couldn't help but cry out, he would always hide out of the ward, afraid of disturbing others. When he felt slightly better, he would wander around the ward like a playful kid, offering a few words or helping out whenever he saw someone with questions.The chatty chatter during the day, the reliable Q&A late at night, the shy sharing at patient meetings, the happy chirping after eating good food... countless scenes formed the complete impression of Xiaolu.Therefore, I can never let it go. How could such a kind, clear-minded, optimistic, and open-hearted young man be driven to a dead end by illness?For a long time, Director Dong Qian and I didn't dare mention Xiaolu. Director Dong once said: Xiaolu was the most cheerful, open-minded, and brave boy she had ever seen. When his mother told me, I hesitated and didn't tell her right away.His parents are still young and very strong. Xiaolu's funeral arrangements were handled quite well. I believe that in another world, he will surely be like a dazzling star, using his enthusiasm and love to light up a new life. Xiaolu, you are A Diao, you are a free bird...
Some farewells have no ceremony. It's just a person slowly stepping out of the pain, like a light dimming bit by bit, unstoppable by anyone.Xiaolu's story is hard to look back on. Not because he didn't try hard enough, but because he tried too hard—working hard to cooperate with treatment, trying hard to understand his condition, trying hard not to burden others, and even trying hard to leave gentleness for those around him at his most painful moments.Yet medicine has boundaries it cannot cross. Facing diseases like colorectal cancer with peritoneal metastasis (retroperitoneal metastasis), we must state a calm yet heavy reality: unless the metastasis is extremely limited, the overall treatment difficulty is immense, and the chance of achieving a fundamental reversal through surgery or other means is very limited. Most of the time, the meaning of treatment is to delay and relieve, not to change the final outcome.This isn't about anyone not trying hard enough, or anyone doing something wrong. It's just that the disease is too difficult. We are used to treating "perseverance" and "never giving up" as the only answers, but some paths only reveal the truth at the end—not everyone gets the chance to reach the finish line. Not because they aren't brave enough, but because this battle was unequal from the start.When a disease progresses to an irreversible stage, perhaps what's more important is to change our mindset: stop putting all our energy into "must get better," and instead learn to live well in the final days. This isn't giving up, but a deeper clarity.Eat a bite of something you still want, even if it's little;meet someone you still want to see, even if it's hard;say those words left unsaid;and allow yourself to be afraid, sad, tired, and stop pretending to be strong. These seemingly small things are actually the most real and important parts of a person at the end of life.Xiaolu clearly understood this. Yet he still lived consciously and earnestly. He didn't hand his days over to despair, but tried his best to live well in every moment he could still perceive: a cup of his favorite sweet drink, a meal he had longed for, a simple chat, a soft "I'm okay." These ordinary fragments, in his hands, carried gentleness given with all his might. He didn't wait for a miracle. He lived the process into light.So perhaps, what we ultimately need to remember is not whether he "defeated the disease," but that—when the disease could not be defeated—he still did not give up on life itself. This is no longer a failure. It is another kind of completion, quieter, and heavier.Everyone, please don't cry. It's Xiaolu.He quietly hid all the bitterness along the way, leaving only sweet gentleness for us.In the days to come, may we all carry this sweetness, live well, and not fail the time he once illuminated.To protect patient privacy, names used in this article are pseudonyms.
Images containing the patient's portrait in this article have been authorized by the patient. Unauthorized use is prohibited.
