"Oh, really? That's what he said?" Schiller spoke as he sighed inwardly. Across from him, Strange was so anxious he looked ready to snatch the phone away, but Schiller continued unhurriedly, "Yes, that is already the highest praise a father can give his son..."
The moment Schiller finished speaking, Strange's eyes reddened. Then Schiller asked another question. "If that's the case, then why didn't Mr. Strange Sr. choose to contact his son?"
"All right, I understand. Thank you." Schiller lowered his head again, confirmed a few more details about the condition with the Doctor, then hung up. He set the phone aside and looked up at Strange, who appeared even more haggard.
Schiller placed both hands on the table and looked at the notes in his notebook. "About three years ago, your father began experiencing fairly obvious breathing difficulties. That indicates that his lung function had already started deteriorating by then."
"You said it was because he smoked, but this Doctor had a different opinion. Mr. Strange Sr. had gone to him for treatment many times, so he was quite qualified to speak on the matter."
"Your father had always had bronchitis, hadn't he?" Schiller looked at Strange and asked.
Strange nodded distractedly. "Yeah. When I was little, he coughed all the time. Our rooms were pretty close back then, and when he coughed in the middle of the night, I couldn't sleep. My grades dropped quite a bit for one semester. Later, he moved into the little room beside the warehouse to sleep."
"Bronchitis is generally accompanied by some degree of lung infection. It was probably after one flare-up during a seasonal change that the infection became severe, and because he did not receive treatment in time, his lung function was damaged."
"Of course, the smoking you mentioned also