In Jun Ye's office, silence seemed to become the most fitting substitute. Everyone sat quietly with their heads bowed.
Gao Dashuai was the first to lose his composure here; he was the only one in the room who wasn't a medical professional and couldn't fully grasp or digest the news he heard. He gasped slightly in the nearly stagnant air, patting Zhao Wensheng on the shoulder: "Why can't I understand? Are you saying Baobao's long-term fever might not be a cold? If it's not a cold, what is it?"
"There's a change in the blood count. It might not be just a simple cold."
