Five minutes later, Byron appeared in the ward on the top floor.

Rosalie had already changed into a hospital gown. Her lips were still purple, and her complexion was pale, as if she was terminally ill.

Byron was so distressed that he could hardly breathe when he saw her on that bed.

He stood beside the bed for a long time before he finally found his voice.

"Rosalie, can you hear me?"

He leaned over, endured the pain in his heart, and touched Rosalie's pale face.

Rosalie did not respond at all.

Byron could not help but check her breath to confirm that she was alive.

"As soon as those doctors landed, bring them here immediately!"

Byron could not bear this anymore. He turned around and told the director.

The director quickly agreed.

The whole night, Byron could not rest. He just sat numbly beside Rosalie's hospital bed, checking her breath every ten minutes.

At five o'clock in the morning, doctors from all over the world arrived at the hospital in multiple cars.

These renowne