A week later in the morning, during the cold spring of Huaxia Country, the sun barely brought any warmth to the earth. The atmosphere at the National Blade Fourth Squadron Headquarters was oppressive, as if shrouded in a cold current, suffocating everyone into silence. Almost all members crowded in the hallway outside the treatment room, anxiously waiting, their eyes filled with worry.
Even the head of National Blade, Mr. Li, came, accompanied by Wu Jin from the Special Service Bureau, and the military officers of the Fourth Squadron stood beside them. Lan Xue clasped her hands together at her chest, silently praying. Mr. Li retracted his gaze from the treatment room, glanced around, understanding everyone's mood, unable to persuade them to leave, he looked at Lan Xue and asked in a low voice, "Didn't you say he woke up on the third day on the nuclear submarine? How is his condition?"
