Yuan Meili finally put down the water cup in her hand, placed it on the table, and had Amo sit down.
Looking across at Amo, she sighed deeply, "It's useless, this isn't the first time I've coughed up blood."
Qiao Shiwen: "Why didn't you tell me sooner, when did this start?"
Yuan Meili: "I didn't want to worry you."
On the table, in the cup, the dark blood that Yuan Meili had coughed up already dispersed.
Several strands were particularly dark, as if they had congealed into lumps. As she just shook the cup, they became thread-like, refusing to separate in the water.
Qiao Shiwen was filled with regret, why hadn't he detected her illness sooner? By the time she wanted to get examined in the late stages, it was already too late.
"Mom, the specialists in M Country must have a way. Auntie also said, the chances of surgery being successful are around 2.6 percent."
"2.6?" Yuan Meili laughed sadly, "Amo, I don't want to die abroad."
"Mom, trust me, I..."
