The room was filled with the constant beeping of machines around Asher.

The beeping sound kept a regular beat, like a steady drum playing in the background. The heart rate line on the screen moved up and down, showing how fast or slow the heart was beating.

The SPO2 number glowed, telling how much oxygen was in the blood of the person before him.

It was an old lady in the hospital bed, and you could tell she'd been around for a while. Wrinkles covered her face, like little lines telling stories of her life.

Her hair was white, showing she was old. It was like a soft halo around her head, shining in the light.

Even though her face had lots of lines, her eyes still had a spark, like they held all the memories of her life.

"Asher, how was your school? Are you taking good care of your body?" The old lady asked, her voice shaky.

She was Asher's adopted mom, the one who took care of him when his biological mother left him for death.

He had a tough time after birth – worse than a puppy left behind by its mom. Even mama dogs stick around longer.

Fortunately, his adoptive mother, with her tired voice and lines on her face from all the tough times, was there for Asher.

Her words weren't just about school; they were like a hug, saying she knew he'd been through a lot, and she cared.

In that room, you could feel a special connection between them, a bond that turned a tough past into a shared present.

"Don't worry, Mom. I'm eating on time," Asher said, trying to comfort her.

Sitting next to her, he started peeling an orange – her favorite.

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The room filled with the sweet smell as he carefully pulled the slices apart. Those oranges meant more to her than just fruit; they were a sign of his care and hard work.

"I got paid from my part-time job," he added, his eyes showing a mix of pride and thankfulness while handing her a slice.

"That's great. I'm proud of you ," She smiled back at him.

In these simple acts, with that sweet smell lingering, the room felt full of love and dedication.

Asher watched as his mother started eating the orange he had peeled, and memories of their life together flooded his mind – the good times and the tough ones.

Her mother fell ill two years ago when she used to work as an on-call maid .

Back then, Asher was just a regular high school student, good at fighting but using his skills only for self-defense, never to bully others.

As for his adoptive father, he faced an unjust fate five years ago, struck by a car. The tragedy went unanswered because the person responsible had connections in the Middle Area.

It was Asher's first harsh encounter with the world's unfairness, realizing that being poor often meant a cruel fate, no matter how kind you were.

Despite these hardships, Asher's adoptive mother continued to take good care for him. It wasn't until she fell seriously ill that he began losing faith in humanity.

No hospital was willing to treat her due to lack of money. Asher heard that the Middle Area held the cure for his mother, but to get there, he needed status and connections, something that felt far out of reach for someone from his background.

He even tried reaching out to well-off individuals for charity, but they responded with laughter and indifference.

Now, he found himself compelled to confine his mother to a public hospital, a place lacking the resources and care she desperately needed.

In fact, the only reason she could stay here was because Asher kept paying the bills.

The government insurance from his adoptive father also played a big role.

Without those, she would have been discarded like a stray dog.

"Asher, maybe it's time that we give up?" Her mother spoke, seeing through Asher's tough facade. He might look strong and composed, but she knew he was enduring everything .

"I'm old already, and I'm tired," she added.

It wasn't tiredness from life, but the sadness of seeing her son always paying the bills.

She knew the hospital costs were piling up, and Asher could have used that money for himself. The emotional pain of watching her son sacrifice so much for her wellbeing was heavy on her heart.

She couldn't have asked for more. She had raised him with love, and Asher always showed deep respect and a warmth of familial love that touched her heart.

"Mom, let's not talk about it anymore," he forced a smile, not wanting to go deeper into the conversation. The emotions were getting too heavy for him.