Inside the research institute, Chen Chen had recreated the experiment from Shangdu in less than a month.
As they looked at the eight SD rats in the cages, their coats glossy again and their movements youthful, everyone's eyes were filled with shock.
Who would have thought, if they hadn't seen it with their own eyes, that just a month ago these rats had been old and frail, on the verge of dying?
Of course, returning to youth came at a price. Before the experiment, there had been twenty-five rats, but in the end only eight had survived.
The survival rate was less than one-third.
"CT scans confirm that the experimental subjects show signs of rejuvenation in their bones, muscles, blood production, and even liver function."
A researcher beside him looked over the test results, line by line, and exclaimed, "This is very much in keeping with the pluripotency of mesenchymal stem cells."
"The survival rate is just a little too low," someone said regretfully. "It'd be perfect if we could raise it."
"It's a problem with the subjects."
But Samuel, standing nearby, unexpectedly disagreed. "They were elderly rats to begin with. Their bodily functions had already declined to the limit, and chemotherapy and radiotherapy aren't treatments designed for rodents in the first place. A high mortality rate is only to be expected."
Over the past while, Chen Chen had lived and worked alongside the researchers. His astonishing expertise and talent in biology had won over the entire research institute, and no one looked down on him anymore.
After all, people who became researchers were proud by nature. Most might not have had much aptitude for business and had to work for companies, but that didn't mean they were content to be subordinate to others.
Samuel, for instance, thought very little