Chapter 61: Successful Anti‑Cancer Treatment, Price

Time had never felt so long.

In the central control room of the trial floor at South China Hospital, twenty‑four hours felt like a century.

During this period, no one left.

The smell of disinfectant mixed with the electronic hum of operating instruments, creating the room's unique atmosphere.

Wang Qiang guarded his mother's bedside, sleepless all night.

He saw his mother's breathing become steady, the brow that had been locked tight from years of pain gradually relaxing.

She slept deeply and sweetly, something she had not experienced since falling ill.

After the twenty‑four‑hour countdown ended, the first blood test report was uploaded to the system.

Academician Liu Aihua's gaze locked onto the screen like an eagle.

"Bed 88, Wang Xiulan, advanced pancreatic cancer, carcinoembryonic antigen index, down from 1258 ng/ml before treatment to 8.7 ng/ml."

The normal reference value is below 5 ng/ml.

This meant that the patient's cancer cell activity, in just twenty‑four hours, had been suppressed to a level almost normal!

"Bed 32, Li Jianming, advanced lung cancer, cytokeratin 19 fragment, down from 35.2 μg/L to 4.1 μg/L."

"Bed 57, Zhao Min, liver cancer, alpha‑fetoprotein index, down from 2100 μg/L to 15 μg/L."

……

As one report after another came out.

On the screen, the data representing various tumor markers plunged like a cliff‑side dive; every change struck everyone's heart, stirring a wave of ecstasy.

"The CT image comparison is out!"

"A researcher's voice choked with tears: 'Patient in bed 88's pancreatic tumor shrank by ninety percent! Metastatic lesions in the liver and lungs have almost completely disappeared!'"

Boom!

The entire central control center, after a brief silence, erupted completely.

"Haha!"

"Success! It really succeeded!"

Several young doctors wearing thick glasses could no longer hold back, hugging each other like children, overjoyed.

Academician Liu Aihua leaned on the console, his body trembling slightly, as he gazed at the near‑miraculous image comparison on the screen,

In his cloudy eyes, tears glistened.

"Report!"

"A hurried voice broke the celebratory atmosphere: 'Patient in bed 7 is having an allergic reaction, with rapid heartbeat and rising blood pressure!'"

Everyone's heart tightened, and the atmosphere instantly froze.

"Pull up all the data!"

Liu Aihua immediately gave the order.

Several experts quickly gathered, analyzing the data stream.

"It's not a rejection reaction!"

"A doctor quickly concluded: 'The patient himself has a severe heart condition and multiple drug allergies; this is a stress‑induced composite reaction, unrelated to the nanorobots themselves, and it's not serious.'"

After emergency treatment, the elderly patient's vital signs soon stabilized.

Liu Aihua let out a long sigh of relief, but his expression grew even more solemn.

"To ensure absolute safety, all volunteers will remain in the hospital for observation for three days. After three days, we will conduct a second comprehensive re‑examination."

He picked up the walkie‑talkie, his voice unquestionable,

Three days later, the entrance of South China Hospital was thronged with media reporters from around the world, impenetrable.

At ten o'clock in the morning, the inpatient department's doors opened.

Under the gaze of countless cameras and onlookers, one hundred cancer patients who had once been sentenced to death, supported by their families, slowly walked out.

Most of them remained emaciated, their faces still bearing the weariness of prolonged illness.

But everyone saw that light had reignited in their eyes.

"That light is called 'life'."

Wang Qiang supported his mother as he walked through the crowd.

His mother had changed into clean clothes; although she still needed support, she could move her own steps.

She gazed at the blazing sunlight, greedily breathing the free air, and a long‑absent smile appeared on her face.

Wang Qiang said nothing, merely letting his tears slide silently down.

And that middle‑aged woman, whom doctors had declared had only three months left, now clung tightly in an embrace.

Her husband's shoulders heaved violently; he wanted to cry and to laugh at the same time.

Finally, he could only repeatedly stroke his wife's back, murmuring over and over:

"It's all right…… everything is all right now!"

"How do you feel now?" a reporter asked, thrusting a microphone at an elderly person.

The old man's body was weak, but his spirits were excellent, and he replied:

"Good! I've never felt this good before! I feel as if a great weight has been lifted from my body; thank the country! Thank everyone for their concern."

This scene, via the live broadcast signal, spread throughout Yanhuang Guo and across the world.

In the studio of Yingjiang Guo's FMM TV station, the blond‑blue‑eyed medical expert was watching the live feed, his mouth open wide enough to fit an egg.

The director cut to a close‑up of him; his expression of shock and disbelief became the day's hottest meme on the global internet.

Several pharmaceutical giants of the O‑State Alliance quietly deleted the joint statement on their official websites that warned global patients to beware of false information.

For a moment, the world was in an uproar.

Yanhuang Guo did not stop its steps; that afternoon, the authorities issued another announcement:

【The second batch of clinical trials is about to begin, volunteer slots expanded to two thousand, to be jointly conducted by designated hospitals in the capital, Shanghai, Yangcheng, and other places.】

After a few more days, all participants in the second batch had recovered and been discharged.

Then came the third batch.

When the treatment of the three batches of cancer patients ended, there was no longer any voice of doubt.

The facts are as solid as iron, indisputable.

The National Medical Research Institute formally announced that the 'Sentinel' targeted nanorobot therapy would be gradually rolled out to major hospitals nationwide for cancer treatment.

……

In the capital, inside a meeting room.

Old Luo, Zhang Yunfeng, Shen Lishu, the overall head of the national medical institution, Cheng Haitang, and Qin Hao sat around a conference table.

"The nanotherapy technology is finally on track; today I asked everyone to come to discuss one matter: the pricing issue."

Old Luo got straight to the point.

Shen Lishu beside him immediately opened a document and pushed it to the center of the table,

"Envoy, this is our cost accounting report."

"The production process of the Sentinel robots is complex, with limited initial capacity; the comprehensive cost per treatment is about sixty thousand, not including the previous over ten years of R&D investment."

Zhang Yunfeng interjected: "Over there, the US's anticancer drugs cost tens to hundreds of millions of dollars per course, yet their efficacy is inferior to the nanorobots; they're just gouging money, so our price definitely cannot be that high."

"What you said is correct, but we also cannot make it completely free."

Shen Lishu added.

"Production requires cost, technology needs iterative upgrades, and subsequent R&D requires massive financial support. The national treasury can subsidize part of it, but cannot cover everything; otherwise it would be unsustainable."

"Xiao Qin, what's your opinion?"

Old Luo did not immediately answer them, but instead turned his gaze to Qin Hao.