Christian spoke in English. The crowd did not understand Swiss or Dutch, but they could more or less understand what he meant in English.
Everyone was shocked. Professor rafson, who was standing in front of Zheng Ren, slowly froze. Then, more fear crept up his face, his pupils shrank to the size of needles, and his legs trembled.
"Mr. Kerry ..." Dr. Raffson said in a quivering voice.
"Chris, he's sick. Stop it." Zheng Ren said helplessly.
"Zheng, he was very unhappy just now. Do you still want to treat him?" Christian looked at Dr. Raffson with a smile and asked in a rhythmic manner, as if he was reciting a poem.
"Oh, I'm fine."
"Why weren't you so good-tempered when you beat me up on the plane?!" Christian raised his hands high to express his shock and confusion.
"You're fine. You'll recover soon. "He can't ..." Zheng Ren shook his head and looked at professor rafson with pity.
