There were plump, white worms inside Principal Zhang's blood.
These worms were tiny—smaller even than ordinary cells.
When the instrument's high-powered microscope magnified them further, they could see that the worms were covered in sharp teeth, and a few even had their mouths clamped onto cell walls.
Yet the worms were lying motionless, asleep.
Zhang Lingxue was utterly stunned.
No wonder her grandfather had described the agony as ten thousand gu devouring his bones, as if his entire body had been scorched by blazing fire.
She finally understood why no renowned doctor, however miraculous their hands, had been able to cure her grandfather's chronic illness.
His body was filled with densely packed tiny worms. This was the true reason his health had deteriorated with each passing day.
No wonder wave after wave of toxins had been expelled, and even blood transfusions had done nothing. So these tiny worms had been behind it all.
A single drop of blood contained countless tiny worms. Wouldn't there be even more inside her grandfather's body? His body had become a nest for the worms to breed in.
No wonder her grandfather, a high-ranking Pet Beast Master, had aged so rapidly. His body had become a hotbed for the worms' reproduction, riddled with a thousand sores and a hundred holes. No matter how many miraculous pills he consumed, they would only make the worms multiply faster.
Moreover, these tiny worms were extraordinarily vigilant. The hospital possessed even more precise instruments, yet nothing had been found during blood tests.
What did that mean?
Either there was a mole in the hospital who did not want her grandfather to recover and had issued a fake Test Report.
Or the instruments simply could not detect them.
The former would be better. If it was the latter, it meant