Pi Te pondered for a moment, then looked at Qiu Boyuan with a serious expression:
"Mr. Qiu, Miss Qiu Lingyu has shown me your films, and to tell you the truth, your illness is very serious. There is a large accumulation of fluid in your lungs, and it has already turned to pus. You must undergo immediate puncture to drain it, otherwise, you will die!"
"Is that possible? How sure are we that it can cure?" Qiu Boyuan looked at Pi Te with a face full of hope.
Pi Te gently shook his head, "Not very likely, at most a thirty percent chance."
"This..." Qiu Boyuan turned pale, his expression once again falling, "Forget it, with only thirty percent chance, I'd rather wait for death. I don't want to place my life's hope on such a fleeting thirty percent."
"Dad, a thirty percent chance is already not low, try it," Qiu Lingyu quickly urged.
"President, give it a try."
"Yes, President, you can't just wait like this..."
"President..."
A group of elders began to urge him one after another.
