“Ah…”

In a hospital, an old man slowly opened his clouded eyes. Though he’d been paralyzed for a long time, some unknown strength supported him as he slowly sat up.

He felt around beside the bed for a moment, then picked up a sketchpad and a sharpened pencil.

Just then, the nurse on duty opened the door. When she saw the old man sitting up, she hurried over and helped him lie back down.

“Old Chen, you’re not in good health to begin with. The director said you’re too old and need to get plenty of rest. How about we take a break from drawing today, okay?”

As she spoke, the nurse reached to take the art supplies from Old Chen’s hands, but he clutched the sketchpad tightly and wouldn’t let go.

“Nurse Wang, thank you for your concern. But I don’t know why—I suddenly feel especially energetic today. I’m afraid… So please, let me use this bit of strength to draw one last picture.”

Hearing Old Chen’s desperate plea, the nurse stiffened for a moment.

“All right… all right. If you start feeling unwell, just press the call button by your bed.”

“Okay.”

The nurse watched the old man lower his head and continue drawing, paying no mind at all to what she’d just said. She couldn’t help sighing, then quietly slipped out.

The hospital was huge, but there were very few nurses. She couldn’t stay by one patient’s side all the time.

Not long after she left, a little girl with short twin ponytails peeked in through the doorway. She wore a nurse’s cap, and her big eyes sparkled as she watched the old man sitting on the bed, absorbed in his drawing.

“Hey! Old Chen, what’re you drawing this time? Let me see!”

As she spoke, she leaned in closer.

“Wow, this cat looks so cute!”

The little nurse stood to one side, marveling at the cat the old man had drawn. It looked like a cat, though you could still make out a few tiger-like features around its eyes and brows. Its pose and gaze both carried a hint of pride, as if it might roar at her, this two-legged beast, to back off at any moment.

Before long, the old man put down his pencil after the final stroke. The little nurse picked up the picture in amazement. The dynamic pose, the expression—even the delicate pencil strokes on the paper—showed just how skilled the artist was.

“Old Chen, can I have this picture?!”

“If you like it, you can keep it.”

Old Chen smiled at the little nurse, whose eyes seemed to be full of stars. But when he looked at the picture, he couldn’t help sighing.

“What’s wrong? Your picture looks great, doesn’t it?”

The little nurse held the picture up again. The drawing was made with pencil, and the old man had used a special technique on the cat’s eyes. When she tilted it slightly, the light in the cat’s eyes seemed to shift. She couldn’t help marveling at it.

(Pencil is an oil-based medium and reflects light.)

“Actually, I wanted to draw a tiger…”

“Pfft…”

Old Chen blushed. For some reason, he had a feeling this might be his last piece. He’d meant to leave behind a mighty, majestic tiger, but halfway through drawing its head, he’d inexplicably started drawing a cat instead.

Maybe that was fate?

Suddenly, Old Chen’s vision went black. The pencil slipped from his left hand and clattered to the floor, and his body fell heavily back onto the bed.

“So… this is what it means for my time to… be up?”

Then his consciousness slowly sank, as if into the depths of the sea. Amid the confusion, he could still faintly hear the little nurse cry out. After that, it was as if someone had pulled him out of his body, and he sank into eternal silence.