The old man coughed, his body sinking lower and lower until it bent into a Bow. He knelt on the ground, head hanging low, and didn't move for a long time.
"Dr. Zhao, what... what kind of disease is this? Is it contagious?" Deng Guang asked, looking at Zhao Pu beside him.
Zhao Pu's throat felt dry. "I don't know. Mr. Qin, I need to go back for a minute."
More and more neighbors came downstairs, and a few faint coughs could be heard here and there from the crowd.
"But if it is contagious, it's most likely spread through droplets. We have to stay away from anyone who's coughing, keep our homes clean, and... don't gather in groups. I repeat, do not gather in groups."
Perhaps it was just in his head, but as he spoke, Zhao Pu felt a tickle in his own throat, like he was about to cough.
He couldn't be sure if it was a psychogenic cough brought on by somatization, or if he was actually infected.
