Meng Zichen must not have something going wrong.
Mo Sinian always knew that that child was her reason for living in this world. If it wasn't for Meng Zichen, Meng Xi'er might have been swallowed up by depression a long time ago.
Her mental state was already fragile, unable to endure any more blows.
"We're going to the doctor's."
After crying for a while, Meng Xi'er finally held back her emotions and lifted her head to Mo Sinian, saying, "I'm fine."
Mo Sinian looked at her red-rimmed eyes, sighed lightly without speaking, only held her hand and took her to the attending doctor's office.
The medical report had come out.
Anemia, fever, pinpoint bleeding on the skin, abnormal white blood cell count and morphology, the probability of leukemia was as high as ninety percent.
