As they delved deeper into the data, the staff's faces turned increasingly pale, "This is data updated a year ago—out of seventeen individuals, five died unexpectedly. The remaining twelve have various reasons that prevent them from donating bone marrow."
"What reasons?"
"Three contracted sexually transmitted diseases, five became drug addicts, and a few died due to breaking the law, either by suicide or being murdered."
Mu Jingxi's brow furrowed deeply, so, there's no hope for Qiao An?
"Sir, we are deeply sorry! It's our negligence that these data were not updated promptly." The staff member stood up, continuously bowing in apology.
Mu Jingxi turned and left, his steps somewhat unsteady.
"Sir, are you alright?" Jiang Xun, who was waiting outside the door, saw his pale face and reached out to support him.
But he swatted the hand away.
The man's eyes were cold and dark. Tight-lipped and silent, he walked away briskly.
No, how could there be no hope?
