Entry into the country was seamless. Soon, Zhou Du was lying on a hospital bed in Switzerland.
"Mr. Zhou, I must confirm with you one last time: are you voluntarily applying for and accepting euthanasia?"
"Yes."
Zhou Du nodded, a rare sense of tranquility settling over his heart.
The excruciating pain of late-stage cancer had condemned him to countless sleepless nights, wasting his body away with terrifying speed. Looking at his reflection in the mirror—a face as gaunt as dead wood, a body reduced to a skeleton—he couldn't find a single trace of his former high-spirited vigor.
The IV drip began to flow into his veins.
"Mr. Zhou, once you press this switch, the euthanasia drug will be injected into your body." The nurse placed the control device gently into Zhou Du's hand.
Meanwhile, thousands of miles away in China, Chu Luyao was searching for Zhou Du like a woman gone mad.
Let us rewind the clock a few hours.
The car pulled into the villa's garage. Chu Luyao attempted to get out, but Song Yuhuan held onto her, refusing to let go.
"President Zhou has a business engagement today; he won't be back until very late."