In Spring City's Wanjia Alley, a short, elderly man holding a long-stemmed pipe walked slowly with his hands behind his back to the last house in the alley. He tapped the pipe against the door, and soon, movement could be heard from inside.
The door opened, and another old man who looked very much like him stepped aside to let him in.
The house was dilapidated and shabby, with garbage littered all over the yard. The two men entered a small single-story room inside, and an indescribable odor wafted out.
"How many did you get this time?" The old man with the pipe had barely stepped inside when he heard this question.
"Three. Two young women around eighteen, and one child about eight or nine," answered the old man with the pipe.
The old man who had opened the door for him frowned. "Why no boys? Boys are worth much more than girls these days."
"Hey, Old Shen, do you think I don't know that? But people watch their kids so closely nowadays, it's really hard to get any. What can I do?" After saying this, the pipe-holding old man looked at his twin brother who had asked the question. "If you don't believe me, you go out next month and get a few boys for me then."
Old Shen the elder couldn't be bothered with his brother's grumbling. "Alright, alright, hurry up and get some sleep. We'll deliver the goods together in a little while."
Old Shen the younger also knew the importance of the matter. He lay down on the dirty, worn-out bed in the room and fell asleep, his snores shaking the rafters.
Time flew by. After just about an hour, Old Shen the younger was shaken awake by Old Shen the elder; it was time to make the delivery. The two put on the work uniforms carelessly tossed to the side and pushed two small carts from the corner of the yard out the door.
Once outside, their demeanor completely changed, becoming one of hardship and simple honesty.
They gathered at their company, then pushed their carts towards their assigned work area. Along the way, each on one side of the main road, they swept up garbage from the streets and roads. Under the dim yellow streetlights, people came and went on the streets, none paying any extra attention to the sanitation workers.
The night grew deeper, and pedestrians dwindled. At midnight, the two men simultaneously pushed their carts towards the same direction.
Meanwhile, at a rundown shack on the outskirts of the city, police from the Spring City Public Security Bureau had already rescued the two missing high school girls and one elementary school student from that day. However, they did not withdraw. Instead, they lay in wait in the darkness for the "rabbits" to take the bait.
Time ticked by, and the police had been in position for a full two hours.
"Clack... clack-clack... clack-clack..." The wheels of the sanitation carts rattled over the uneven ground, the sound of the chain hitting the wheel spokes particularly conspicuous in the quiet night.
"I say, Old Shen, when are you finally going to fix that broken-down cart of yours? It's so quiet at night, that thing draws too much attention," Old Shen the younger, who had long been dissatisfied with his older brother, seized the chance to complain.
"Shut up." Old Shen the elder's single sentence made Old Shen the younger close his mouth.
The rest of the journey passed in silence. When they left the city and saw the dilapidated shack standing in the darkness, the eyes of both old men lit up.
They quickened their pace, pushing the carts faster. Stopping at the shack's door, Old Shen the elder opened it and stepped inside first.
He looked up, and his somewhat clouded eyes widened in shock, freezing him in place. Old Shen the younger was waiting for him to push the cart inside. Seeing him standing motionless, he walked in, highly displeased. "What are you doing just standing there instead of pushing the cart in? You're delaying the delivery..."
Old Shen the younger's words died in his throat. A beam of light switched on, and Old Shen the elder and younger finally saw clearly—they were truly surrounded by a whole nest of cops.
They didn't dare turn and run, because the dark muzzles of guns were pointed right at them.
Old Shen the elder and Old Shen the younger were arrested. Even sitting in the police station, they couldn't figure out how they had been exposed.
The two were "Five Guarantees" households in the neighborhood—with no assets or children, living in a small courtyard provided by the government. They had worked as sanitation workers for twenty years. Because they were diligent and had honestly turned in wallets or contacted owners when they found them on the road, they had consistently been rated as outstanding employees by their company.
No one answered Old Shen the elder and younger's questions.
The next day, after Lin Xi got up and finished washing up, she checked her phone and saw news pushed by various browsers. Clicking in, the top trending search was about the International Women's Day consolation gifts distributed by the state.
Below these trending topics, most comments were thanking the nation. Among the uniform sea of gratitude, a few discordant remarks were sporadically mixed in but were quickly buried.
The second item on the trending list was #Nationwide Joint Anti-Trafficking Operation#. Clicking into this topic revealed announcements issued by police departments across the country in the early hours, all reporting successes in capturing human traffickers.
Beneath these reports of captured traffickers was a celebration by the vast netizen community. Since ancient times, China had suffered greatly from human traffickers.
The remaining trending topics were mostly about entertainment celebrities. Regarding the matter of unified school uniforms being issued to all elementary, middle school, and university students nationwide, there was nothing on the platform's trending list. Only by searching carefully could related topics be found.
Lin Xi had a sudden insight, understanding this as a protective measure by the relevant authorities for the students.
Lin Xi screenshotted all these articles and sent them to Yao Xiran. Over on Yao Xiran's side, she had just gotten up from the lab. Seeing Lin Xi's message, she smiled.
When she had given Lin Xi those few watches, the technology used was already obsolete in the interstellar age. Her hope was that while helping her sister, Lin Xi would also feed the technology back to the country.
Lin Xi had done as she wished, mailing the smartwatch out. That the technology could be popularized nationwide so quickly also surprised Yao Xiran, but it also showed from the side that China's leaders had the people's welfare at heart.
Although Yao Xiran no longer lived in China, in her heart, she still wished for China to become better and better.
[Interstellar Wanderer Yao Xiran: Little Xi, can you help me ask if they need advanced aerospace technology, along with methods for processing and purifying the required materials? If they do, I've compiled some information here to send you.]
Yao Xiran hadn't been idle during this time. While researching interstellar weapons, she had also been studying technologies achievable with China's current scientific capabilities.
Chinese researchers were formidable. Their shortcoming lay in certain advanced materials, something Yao Xiran's professional course teachers had discussed back in her school days.
She had always remembered, never forgetting for a moment, even after reaching the interstellar age.
Lin Xi hadn't expected Yao Xiran to say this. But then, as a Chinese person, who doesn't wish for their own country to grow better and better?
[Earth Girl Lin Xi: It's my duty, and I shan't decline.]
Yao Xiran took off her gloves and touched her head. Feeling the grease on her fingers, she chuckled wryly. She had been holed up in the lab for a week, surviving on nutrient drinks even for meals.
She quickly headed towards the living quarters, sending the materials to Lin Xi as she went. She also dispatched samples of materials that could be produced with Earth's current technology.
Looking at the several different documents, Lin Xi took a deep breath. She retrieved from a corner of her space the USB drive she had used to initially contact Professor Gu.
Come to think of it, although Lin Xi had sent Professor Gu many packages, she had only truly chatted with him that one time as "Red Scarf Comrade."
Seeing it was still early, not even 8 AM yet, and Professor Gu probably wouldn't be at work so early, Lin Xi went out for a meal first.
She ate cold rice noodles, using the sour and spicy flavors to kickstart a wonderful day.
On her way back after the meal, she habitually opened the message-in-a-bottle app and chatted for a while with the anonymous player from the infinite flow world about some trivial topics before arriving home.
Sitting in her room, her computer was already booted up and ready. A glance at the time showed 8:30 AM. Professor Gu in Beijing should be at work by now, she figured.
Lin Xi inserted the USB drive. The screen went black, then transformed into a scene full of sci-fi aesthetics. The screen was dominated by a dark blue hue. The cartoon avatar of "Red Scarf Comrade" faced a cartoon old man with a white beard, wearing a lab coat.
The image was quite similar to the once-popular village chief from a certain animated series, just replacing the sheep with a human. Last time Lin Xi opened this drive, there hadn't been this interface.
Yao Xiran had previously taken this USB drive back for an upgrade. Lin Xi truly hadn't known the upgrade direction was this. She had been a bit nervous, but upon seeing the cartoon avatars, her tension instantly melted away.
In Beijing, Professor Gu Anbang arrived at his unit early, humming an unnamed tune.
March in Beijing also ushered in spring. Trees, dormant all winter, sprouted tender green buds.
Looking at those green shoots, Professor Gu felt he was seeing hope itself, brimming with boundless energy. He cheerfully made his way to the training ground.
Almost all staff members were already at the training ground. As music started, everyone followed the security personnel at the front, practicing the "Yishu Thirteen Exercises."
The rousing music chased away all drowsiness. After several rounds, everyone felt remarkably light and relaxed.
"Every year during the seasonal change, I catch a cold without fail. But this year, it's already this time, and I haven't felt the slightest sign of illness," two young researchers behind Professor Gu chatted.
"Tell me about it. I used to have cervical spondylosis, right? Ever since practicing this, it hasn't flared up for ages. The day before yesterday, my partner gave me a massage and said the 'rich man's hump' on my neck has shrunk quite a bit!"
"Really? Let me see... Wow, it really has gone down. Check mine, I haven't paid attention to it lately."
"Yours has gone down too..." The researchers chattered away.
The smile never left Professor Gu's lips, his face wearing an indescribable look of pride. Although he wasn't the one who provided the "Yishu Thirteen Exercises," they were delivered through him.
Professor Gu walked with a spring in his step. His old friend Professor Zhao walked beside him. Decades of friendship, bunkmates back in their school days—Old Zhao knew exactly what kind of boast was coming just by the way Old Gu twitched.
No doubt about it, Old Gu was feeling smug right now! Remembering the bragging phone call he received in the middle of the night from that old rascal, Professor Zhao felt bubbles of jealousy rising.
What on earth did that Red Scarf Comrade and their organization see in Old Gu? Why did they keep sending all the good stuff to him? Who knows which direction Old Gu's family grave site faced, or which feng shui master picked the location. Old Zhao wasn't one for superstitions, but he was tempted to consult one now, especially given the situation with his own child at home. Professor Zhao felt so helpless he could only pin his hopes on something intangible and elusive.
If nothing else, he'd even settle for a handful of soil from the mound of Old Gu's family grave!
With this thought, Professor Zhao's sorrow dissipated. He quickened his pace to catch up. "Old Gu, Old Gu, have you thought about what I mentioned before? I'll give you my best chess set." Professor Zhao's face was full of eagerness.
Professor Gu's expression changed. He knew about Old Zhao's family situation, but this matter... it was really tricky. If overheard, Old Zhao could face serious disciplinary action.
He put on a stern face. "I don't agree. Are you trying to get yourself in trouble, talking about this here?"
Professor Gu glanced at Old Zhao and hurried off towards his office. Professor Zhao stood still for a long moment, watching his retreating back. He looked up at Beijing's rare clear blue sky and blinked.
Back in his office, Professor Gu made his goji berry tea, sat at his computer, and habitually booted it up. He took out his glasses cloth, polished his glasses, and when he looked up at the screen, he was utterly stunned.
Professor Zhao, entering the room, saw Professor Gu sitting there with his mouth agape. He was startled. "Old Gu, Old Gu, what's wrong? What happened?"
Professor Gu adjusted his glasses. "Quick, call the network department. And get the leadership here."
This "leadership" wasn't the director of the biology research institute, but higher-ups from above.
Hearing Professor Gu's robust reply, Professor Zhao relaxed slightly. But then he looked up at the computer screen and saw the bouncing cartoon avatar of "Red Scarf Comrade." He nearly choked on his next breath.
Snapping to action, Professor Zhao immediately pulled out his phone to summon people. Soon, cars streamed into the biology research institute. Several senior officials stepped out. The network department personnel had already arrived.
The small office was filled with the sound of frantic keyboard tapping. However, no matter how they tried to trace it, this so-called "Red Scarf Comrade" seemed to have appeared out of thin air, leaving no trace of activity on the network whatsoever.
The security department personnel grew increasingly frustrated.
On Lin Xi's end, seeing several additional cartoon avatars behind Professor Gu's, she felt a bit awkward. Although she couldn't see their real faces, the lineup of uniform cartoon characters was rather amusing.
"Are you all ready?" Lin Xi typed on her keyboard. On the computer screen, a dialogue bubble appeared next to the Red Scarf Comrade avatar.
In Professor Gu's office, everyone's breathing grew a bit lighter upon seeing this message.
"Tell her we're ready."
Professor Gu placed his hands on the keyboard, and soon, these words appeared on the screen.
Lin Xi operated the computer. A WeChat window popped up, and she slowly dragged out the file Yao Xiran had sent her. She clicked on the avatar of the white-bearded old man on the other side and sent the file.
The internet speed at Lin Xi's home had been modified by Yao Xiran, making it extremely fast. The transfer was completed in no time.
She typed: "Later, I will mail some physical samples of the materials to you. Please remember to check for them."
On the other end, in the office, Professor Gu and the others looked at the files Lin Xi had sent over, their breathing becoming even lighter. They hadn't opened the files yet, but just by looking at the file names, they knew these were all technologies their country currently lacked.
These were technologies blocked by foreign countries. Some of them required billions in research funding every year. While there was progress, it fell far short of achieving independent production.
Professor Gu's hands were trembling. If the technologies within these files were viable, how much would their nation's strength increase? Especially in aerospace technology!
Without needing a word from the leader behind him, Professor Gu typed "Okay, thank you."
Lin Xi didn't say much. Just as she was about to unplug the USB drive, another message bubble popped up in the dialog box.
"When can we meet you?"
Lin Xi thought for a moment and said, "It's not time yet. When the time is right, we will meet with you."
Then, regardless of any further reply from the other side, she directly unplugged the USB drive.
Lin Xi currently had no intention of having too much contact with the national authorities. If she had to give a reason, it might be because she felt guilty. The things she was sending to the country weren't hers to begin with.
She felt like a delivery transfer station, responsible for receiving items from her friends and then forwarding them to the country.
Apart from that, the biggest reason was a bit of fear; she wasn't psychologically prepared to meet with the leaders yet.
Looking at the chat content among her friends in the group, Lin Xi joined in. As she typed, she wondered: had Professor Gu received the anti-cancer drugs she mailed him from Hong City earlier?
Beijing Biological Research Institute.
Professor Gu had only typed half his sentence when "Comrade Red Scarf" made a goodbye gesture and quickly disappeared. His computer screen reverted to the original grassland eye-protection wallpaper.
Professor Gu and the others felt a profound sense of loss.
The leader patted Professor Gu on the shoulder, and then the people the leader had brought with him started unplugging network cables and power cords.
This familiar scene left Professor Gu utterly speechless. It was incredibly ironic. Just over two months ago, an identical scene had played out at the Weapons Research Institute.
He never imagined that in his old age, what would follow him everywhere wouldn't be his wife, but this computer.
"Let's go, Old Gu." The leader beckoned warmly. Professor Gu stood up, holding his thermos cup. Professor Zhao found the situation highly amusing.
After all, every position had its occupant. For retired old-timers like them, the job of checking emails was considered a good one. What was so interesting about being a dorm supervisor? Utterly boring.
Now that Old Gu was here, he had snatched his job. Once Old Gu left, wouldn't the job return to him?
Professor Gu shot him a glare.
Just as he was about to follow, people from outside brought in a pile of packages. The person at the front saw Professor Gu and called out, "Professor Gu, there's a package for you."
This shout brought the leader, who had already walked into the corridor, back. Their gazes burned intently on Professor Gu.
Under the watchful eyes of everyone, Professor Gu opened the package. Seeing the boxes of medicine and the words written on them, Professor Zhao was the first to dart forward, snatching up one of the boxes to examine it closely.
Everyone saw it, but no one blamed him. They all knew Professor Zhao's granddaughter had leukemia. She had been undergoing chemotherapy for years, waiting for a bone marrow match.
But after all these years, a successful match still hadn't been found.
Professor Zhao looked at the words "Can treat chronic and acute leukemia" on the medicine box, and his eyes slowly reddened.
His granddaughter was diagnosed with leukemia at five. Ten years had passed now, and she had been ravaged by chemotherapy. Over the years, they had visited hospitals all over the country and sought doctors abroad, but nothing had helped.
Renowned hematology experts both domestically and internationally had told them that if his granddaughter couldn't find a match, she would only live to sixteen. She was already fifteen this year, only two months away from her sixteenth birthday.
"Leader, my Ruirui is willing to try the medicine." Professor Zhao clutched the box tightly, the cardboard container slightly deformed in his grip.
He knew this action was selfish. He knew even better that if all this medicine were used for research, it would greatly increase the probability of a successful study.
Yet selfishness prevailed. His little granddaughter, so well-behaved and sensible since childhood, would run to him every day when he got off work as soon as she could walk, calling out "Grandpa" softly. She would tell him and his wife to stop arguing when they fought.
She had just learned to speak then, some words still unclear. Her birthday was approaching, and there wasn't much time left according to the doctor's prognosis. Professor Zhao had wanted to resign to stay home with her, but she refused. She said her grandfather was a great hero serving the country and its people, and should remain at his post, not stay home with her.
But he was already retired! How could he still shine and contribute? His granddaughter said that only because she didn't want him to watch her pass away.
Lin Xi had mailed four boxes of each type of medicine because the doctors from Hang Xingyue's world had said three boxes constituted one treatment course.
The leader was in charge of the biological research division and was an old acquaintance of Professor Zhao. Remembering Professor Zhao's sensible granddaughter, he looked at the medicine in the box, then at Professor Zhao's reddened, anxious eyes.
He finally nodded. "Alright." They needed test subjects anyway. Letting Professor Zhao's granddaughter try it was acceptable.
Professor Zhao bowed deeply to them, then picked up his phone to call his son and daughter-in-law.
The leader wasn't in a hurry to leave either. Soon, the experts specializing in cancer research at the Biological Research Institute arrived at the office. The small office became packed.
The leader gave only one pill of each medicine to each research team. The experts who received the medicine turned and left immediately; they needed to start their research as soon as possible.
If cancer could truly be cured, then more than half the people in this world would no longer suffer from illness, and many families would be spared the pain of separation.
Professor Zhao's son soon arrived with a girl.
Fifteen years old and about one and a half meters tall, she was short for a girl her age in this era. Her body was frail, her skin pale, her wrists and ankles slender.
She was weak, needing to catch her breath after every few steps. She was still wearing the patient gown from Beijing's Third Hospital, with a short-haired wig on her head.
Professor Zhao hurried towards her. Following the instructions on the box, he popped a white-brown capsule from the blister pack and handed it over. "Ruǐruǐ, this is medicine for leukemia. Take it, quickly."
Zhao Rui looked up at her grandfather. His eyes were full of red streaks.
Zhao Rui's mother wanted to stop them, but after taking just two steps, she halted. Zhao Rui's condition had worsened again; she had undergone another round of dialysis that very morning.
The doctor had quietly told her that if things continued this way, even with the best medicine and the most advanced treatments, Zhao Rui's life could not be saved. She might even pass away sooner than expected.
Zhao Rui's mother hadn't told anyone. She was truly out of options. She knew why her father-in-law had called them here: to test the medicine.
If it really worked, if it could really save Zhao Rui's life, what did it matter if it was a trial? It was her selfishness as a mother. Even knowing it might cause Zhao Rui pain, she still wanted to keep her alive.
Zhao Rui looked back at her parents, and under their worried gazes, she put the pill in her mouth. Someone immediately handed her a cup of warm water, and she swallowed the pill with it.
Everyone watched Zhao Rui intently.
Professor Zhao's lips moved, but no words came out.
Zhao Rui had thought this medicine would be like the countless others she had taken before, with no effect. But after the pill went down, she felt the heavy burden on her breathing lighten somewhat.
She took a deep breath through her nose. The oppressive weight in her breathing was truly gone. She had forgotten what it felt like to breathe freely. On the way here and even now, her father had been holding the oxygen machine ready.
"Grandpa, my breathing... seems a bit easier," Zhao Rui's voice was as weak as her body.
Yet in that pin-drop silence, her words struck everyone's hearts like thunder.
Professor Zhao swayed and slumped to the floor. He watched his colleagues who specialized in hematology rush towards Zhao Rui, who was then taken to the examination room.
The biology research institute had the best examination equipment available. With everything expedited, Zhao Rui's test results were ready in less than half an hour.
Professor Zhao wanted to go, but didn't dare. Although he was also in biological research, he wasn't a doctor or a pharmaceutical specialist. He could understand many reports, but in the field of biology, expertise wasn't always transferable.
The family of three sat on the benches, afraid that because Zhao Rui had taken the medicine so recently, the tests might show nothing, yet desperately hoping the drug was effective and could cure their child.
The researchers held Zhao Rui's new test reports, comparing them side-by-side with the ones transferred from the hospital that morning.
"Her red blood cell count has increased noticeably compared to this morning!" a researcher exclaimed, and a crowd swarmed around.
Professor Zhao shot to his feet, the sudden movement causing a wave of dizziness.
"Not just the white blood cells. Her other bodily functions have also improved significantly since the morning."
"That's right, that's right! What does this mean? It means her failing organs are showing positive signs!"
The researchers chattered excitedly, while Professor Zhao, his son, and daughter-in-law stared blankly at the celebrating crowd in the distance.
They understood every word, but they felt as if they were floating on clouds, everything seemed utterly unreal.
Professor Xu, who specialized in hematology, walked over to Professor Zhao with the report in hand. "Old Zhao, Old Zhao! This is just from one pill! If she continues taking it, do you know what this represents?"
"Our Ruǐruǐ can be saved! And thousands upon thousands of patients suffering from blood diseases can be saved!!!"
He was practically dancing, his eyes rimmed red. What had they worked for their entire lives, strived for their whole careers? Wasn't it precisely for this?
Wasn't their lifelong wish to cure people suffering from this very disease?
Professor Zhao stared dumbfounded at his colleague.
Suddenly, he heard crying beside him. Professor Zhao turned to see his daughter-in-law, one hand against the wall, the other covering her mouth, sobbing uncontrollably.
She slid down the wall, her quiet whimpers turning into loud cries, then into heart-wrenching wails.
The cries held sorrow and pain, but even more so, joy. No one knew what it had been like for her, as a mother, to live through all those days and nights with a child who had leukemia. No one knew how much her heart ached every time they returned from chemotherapy and she saw Zhao Rui twitching even in her sleep.
And no one knew she couldn't even sleep well at night, closing her eyes only to see scenes of Zhao Rui's passing.
All these years, she hadn't just taken her child everywhere seeking treatment. In every place they went, she had prayed to Buddha, sometimes climbing temple steps on her knees, three steps at a time.
She had gotten up at one in the morning to rush for the first incense at a temple said to be especially potent. She had pleaded with every deity in the heavens, and finally, heaven had heard her plea.
Zhao Rui's mother cried with abandon, cried with mournful howls. The cheering researchers fell silent, many of them shedding tears along with her.
They were people who researched blood diseases. They were accustomed to life and death, yet every time, they couldn't help but be deeply moved.
Inside the examination room, Zhao Rui touched her shaved head, tears falling like broken strands of pearls.
Her parents only had her, one child. Her grandfather had doted on her since she was little. She had watched her mother, in bitter cold and scorching heat, climb those temples and Taoist monasteries on her knees. She knew her father would smoke cigarette after cigarette through the night.
She was in many patient groups for leukemia. She had watched one profile picture after another turn gray, never lighting up again. She really, really wanted to live. She was only sixteen.
She really wanted to survive. She wanted to go to university, to experience college life, to see the magnificent landscapes of her country. She wanted to see the ocean, the desert, to witness all the great mountains, to watch the clouds unfurl and the tides of lakes rise and fall.
She placed a hand over her heart. Could she really live? She had been disappointed too many times; Zhao Rui was afraid to hope. But her heart was beating much, much stronger than before.
Leader No.1 and others had also arrived. They stood at the stairwell, listening to Zhao Rui's mother's sobs. Leader No.1 said to the Minister of State Security beside him, "Let's stop the investigation. Whether it's one person or a group, haven't we already determined they are harmless?"
The Minister of State Security nodded. Whether it was the Red Scarf student, Comrade Lei Feng, or Ms. LIU HuLAN, they could only trace them to the point where they mailed packages.
After that, no matter how hard they tried, they couldn't find a single clue.
Their appearances had always been for good, delivering technology, physical fitness enhancers, and medicine to the nation.
There really was no need to investigate further, but vigilance couldn't be relaxed either.
Leader No.1 turned and left.
From that day on, a phrase began circulating in leukemia support groups: the nation has now developed a special drug for leukemia, already in the trial phase.
This medicine is not expensive, highly effective, with almost no side effects, and can completely cure leukemia.
Many patients and their families didn't believe this news, but some patients with nowhere else to turn found a glimmer of hope.
On March 20, 2021, a text message was sent to the mobile phones of the general public.
[National Medical Products Administration: This message is jointly issued by the National Medical Products Administration and the National Biological Research Institute to the masses, seeking more cancer patients... If you suffer from an incurable cancer, please click...]
Some people dismissed this message as a scam, others as a virus. However, that evening, the national news broadcast spent three minutes discussing this very text message.
Leader No.1 specifically gave an interview. At that moment, millions of families battling cancer stopped what they were doing. They sat in front of their TVs, listening to Leader No.1's words.
After the news broadcast ended, people took out their phones, searched for the interview, and almost unanimously clicked the link in that text message.
This also became a frenzy for foreign media. They posted the news interview on their own networks. On international platforms, countless foreigners voiced skepticism under these news posts.
It was an even greater carnival for anti-China factions, who churned out report after report slandering China.
They even claimed the text message was the Chinese government looking for human guinea pigs for drug trials. Numerous pharmacology experts criticized China on their social media platforms, accusing them of sensationalism.
Even within the country, a minority online were pessimistic about the matter. Many cancers are considered incurable diseases; they couldn't imagine the nation developing a drug that could directly cure cancer.
Yet, the online noise couldn't change the determination of those cancer-stricken families to travel to Beijing.
They had been tormented by illness for a long time. Treating cancer had cost them their homes, their cars, and nearly all their money; they couldn't bear any more expenses.
But as long as there was a sliver of hope for a cure, they would go. They believed their country wouldn't deceive them about something like this.
Some patients with terminal cancer even embarked on the journey to Beijing with a resolve to die. Doctors had already issued them critical condition notices; they had no hope left for survival. However, if their deaths could provide even a little value to researching this disease, it would be worth it.
Having been caught in the rain themselves, they wanted to provide some shelter for those about to be or already caught in the rain, even if it was just a leaf.
Some cancer patients, seeing the online comments, replied one by one.
At airports, high-speed rail stations, train stations, and bus terminals, many reporters with cameras and microphones interviewed patients heading to or arriving in Beijing.
With weathered faces and plain words, they recounted their battles with cancer, describing the contrast in their lives before and after the diagnosis.
Regarding this trip, their attitude was almost unanimous: "If it can cure me, that's best. If it can't, then consider it a small contribution to modern medicine, helping experts understand this disease better."
In those interview videos and live streams, many people flooded the comments with the phrase "A World Without Cancer."
While Lin Xi was surprised by the nation's speed, she discussed the matter in the group chat. Hang Xingyue replied in the group: [I've seen the interviews. The ingredients used in those anti-cancer drugs are very common plants and extraction methods. Once the components are analyzed, they're easy to produce! The cost is very low!]
