Thomson picked up the cup, took a sip of water, rested on the table, stroked his forehead with his palm, straightened his shirt, and straightened his body.

Although he was still thunderous just now, he was surprisingly calm at the moment and began to speak in a steady tone.

Here, we might as well sort out what he said a little bit and show you a story.

December 1, 2018, Munich, Germany.

In the large conference room on the third floor of Lange Yue Hotel, the lights were brilliant, and nearly 1,000 experts and scholars, leaders and other relevant personnel gathered, and the World Climate Change Summit was held as scheduled.

The Forum aims to reach consensus on mitigating global climate change and turn the consensus into a feasible plan to promote the common prosperity and prosperity of human society.

To the left of the podium, there is a podium, about a meter high, painted dark red. Behind the rostrum is the projection screen, and the computer PPT content is displayed on the projection screen synchronously. After President Philip of country M delivered a long and empty speech, meteorological scientists from various countries stepped up to the podium in order to introduce their research results on climate change in recent years.

As a senior expert at the World Meteorological Organization, Thomson sat in the third row of the stage, near the aisle, just one place away from Professor Windwhisper. He was not interested in the speech of the head of country M, but he was eager to learn about Professor Whisper of the Wind's latest achievements, so he raised his head from time to time and looked at Professor Whisper of Wind.

When the name of "Words of the Wind" was played on the big screen, the host of the meeting took the microphone, stood up, and introduced the situation of the Words of the Wind.

Thomson saw that Wind Whisper was very excited, his face was slightly red, and he held a stack of papers in his hand, and got up from his seat as if to complete a glorious and difficult task.

Just as the Whisper of the Wind bypassed his seat, walked behind Thomson, and came to the aisle, his head tilted, his steps staggered, and he hurriedly reached out to prop himself on the table, covering his heart with one hand, and almost fell to the ground, the paper in his hand spilled on the carpet. Then, his face was pale, his breath was short, beads of sweat hung on his forehead, and his whole body began to convulse.

Everyone was stunned and overwhelmed. Thomson was taken aback when he saw this, but quickly calmed down. He jumped up, grabbed Wind Whisper's arm, waved to the host, and shouted back, and the security personnel immediately ran over.

Two security guards rushed to the scene, one reaching out to hold the Whisper of the Wind, while the other grabbed the intercom on his waist and called for help from the paramedics outside the venue.

The host, who was accustomed to seeing big scenes, turned his head in another direction and talked about humans and the environment, so as to give the security personnel time to deal with it.

While waiting, Thomson grabbed his arm, pulled out a handkerchief, and wiped the foam from the corner of his mouth.

Thomson turned his head and glanced in the direction of his position, and saw a bag of homemade tea next to the cup, and he thought thoughtfully.

Medical staff carried stretchers and ran in. Four doctors wearing white masks and grass-green clothes quickly ran into the hall, came to the side of Wind Talk, broke his eyelids, looked at it, pressed the human acupoint, and then laid him flat on the stretcher, knelt down, and did artificial respiration.

Thomson bent down, picked up the papers scattered in the aisle, put them in his handbag, leaned over, took the tea bag of the Whisper of the Wind, put it in his pocket, and followed the medical staff out.

The ambulance drove towards the Munich Medical Center, blaring a blaring whistle and flashing red lights, as vehicles and pedestrians avoided.

Wind Whisper was admitted to the ICU, and Thomson sat on a chair outside the room, took out the report in his bag, and studied it carefully. What surprised him was that the conclusions in the report were blank, maybe there was no conclusion, it was just a conjecture, so Professor Feng did not clearly put forward the conclusion, which was also in line with his calm and rigorous character.

Disappointed, Thomson looked down the silent corridor and fell into deep thought.

About half an hour later, the Whisper of the Wind was pushed out of the ICU. Lying on a hospital bed with a thin light green quilt on his body, he came to his senses, his face returned to normal, and his hands were exposed. When he saw Thomson, a smile hung on his lips and a look of gratitude.

Thomson grabbed Wind Whisper's hand, held the hospital bed, and followed him all the way into the ward. Perhaps because of his age, Wind Whisper was a little tired, and the medical staff advised him to rest more.

So, after a few brief words of exchange with the medical staff, Thomson lay in the ear of Professor Whisper of the Wind, said goodbye, and walked out of the ward.

Walking in the corridor of the ward, Thomson seemed to think of something, and suddenly stood there, looking at the silent corridor, motionless.