"Can it, can it be cured?" Yong Hongzhong asked, a mixture of surprise and joy in his voice. He had been tormented by this mysterious ailment that caused dizziness whenever he squatted, leaving him mentally and physically exhausted. To avoid ridicule, he had deliberately maintained a ramrod-straight posture while standing and sitting. But every night, when he lay down in bed, he still suffered from nausea, sometimes even vomiting.
Li Ang nodded calmly. "Hmm."
"Doctor Li, what illness does my lord truly have?" Yong Hongzhong's personal old servant asked respectfully, his form of address changing from "Young Master" to "Doctor."
Benign Paroxysmal Positional Vertigo. Or, in other words, canalithiasis. Li Ang silently recited the answer in his mind.
