Huff huff, huff huff—
Shortness of breath and a series of stifled groans interrupted her train of thought. She turned to look and saw Lan Juan clutching her luggage, drenched in sweat, so she hurriedly asked, "Juan, what's wrong with you?"
"Seems like I ate something bad. My stomach..." Lan Juan held her belly, apologizing with her expression, while pain flickered across her face from time to time.
"Your stomach?" She looked down and saw that Lan Juan was holding not the center of her belly but the lower right corner.
Seeing her hand reaching out, Lan Juan shook her head: "It's nothing, I just have some stomach discomfort, an old problem."
"But I don't think it is." Peng Fang said, "It looks like appendicitis."
"Appendicitis? How do you know?"
How did she know? Suddenly, the words of a man who had once told her not to run right after eating, to beware of appendicitis, popped into her mind.
What is appendicitis? She had asked the same question at that time.
