After leaving the waterfall's depths, the forest terrain began to rise gradually. The air remained humid, yet the lingering mist seemed to thin. Emma deduced they were moving away from the main river channels, reducing their chances of being spotted by orcs or bandits patrolling the banks.
Gu Liang followed silently behind, his steps heavier than before. The brief morning rest hadn't fully dispelled the fatigue accumulated from days of flight, and the icy river water by the deep pool, coupled with the subsequent tension, seemed to be the final straw.
At first, he'd merely felt dizzy, attributing it to exhaustion. But gradually, a chill seeped from his very bones. Even under the afternoon sun, he began to shiver uncontrollably. The untreated wounds on his arms and legs—especially the gash on his palm from the flint—sent waves of burning, throbbing pain through him.
Emma was the first to notice his change. His breathing grew heavy, his face flushed an unnatural crimson, and his steps became unsteady.
"Stop." She turned and caught Gu Liang just as he nearly collided with her.
Gu Liang looked up, his eyes unfocused, his forehead covered in a fine sheen of cold sweat. "...What's wrong?"
Emma didn't answer. Instead, she reached out and pressed the back of her hand against his forehead. It was scorching hot!
Gu Liang flinched at the icy touch, instinctively trying to pull away, but Emma steadied his arm with her other hand.
"You have a fever," Emma stated flatly, her brow furrowing deeply. Her worst fear had come true. The wound infection, compounded by exhaustion, shock, and the icy river water, had triggered acute inflammation.
"I'm fine..." Gu Liang tried to protest, but a wave of intense dizziness swept over him, making him stagger.
"You need immediate rest and medication." Emma held him firmly, her gaze darting around to find suitable shelter. They couldn't continue. In his current state, he could collapse at any moment.
Fortunately, not far away, she spotted an ancient tree with massive, gnarled roots that had formed a natural hollow. The interior of the hollow was spacious enough, dry, and offered excellent concealment.
She half-carried, half-supported Gu Liang into the hollow, settling him against the dry roots. The moment he sat down, he lost nearly all strength, curling into a ball. His body shook violently, alternating between chills and fever, his teeth chattering uncontrollably.
Emma swiftly set down her backpack and retrieved the first-aid kit. This time, she asked no questions and offered no choice. The situation was critical.
"Listen, Gu Liang," she crouched before him, her voice low and clear, carrying an authority that brooked no argument. "Your wound is infected, causing this fever. I must debride it and administer medication immediately, or it will only get worse. Understand?"
Gu Liang's clouded consciousness registered the gravity in her words. He struggled to lift his heavy eyelids, meeting her eyes—still calm and resolute in the dim hollow. The instinct to resist lingered, but the will to survive was stronger. He gave an extremely faint nod.
With his vague consent, Emma sprang into action. First, she fetched the water bottle, steadied him, and forced him to take several sips of water mixed with fever-reducing powder. Then she produced iodine solution, cotton swabs, and a small, sharp pair of medical scissors.
Gu Liang endured the treatment of his arm and leg wounds with stoic tension, his body rigid as stone. But when Emma's hand moved toward the area below his collarbone, near the brand, he jerked violently. A muffled, terrified whimper escaped his throat, like that of a wounded cub.
"Don't move!" Emma snapped, one hand firmly pressing down on his shoulder as he instinctively tried to curl up. The pressure was unyielding yet not painful. "This needs treatment too! The edges of the mark are already red, swollen, and inflamed!"
Her voice was like a bucket of ice water, dousing some of Gu Liang's fever-induced, chaotic fear. He bit down hard on his lower lip, tasting blood, forcing himself to stay still. He closed his eyes and turned his head away, as if doing so could make him escape what was happening.
Emma moved swiftly and precisely.She carefully cut away the torn fabric clinging to the wounds around the brand, using scissors to touch only the material as much as possible. Then, with copious amounts of iodine swabs, she thoroughly cleaned the gruesome patch of skin—a symbol of humiliation and agony. She could feel the violent tremors of the body beneath her hands and hear the broken gasps he suppressed deep in his throat.
After treating the most severe wounds on his arms and legs, her movements paused for an instant. Her voice was low yet clear, devoid of any unnecessary emotion: "There are other lacerations that need to be medicated as well. Otherwise, the high fever won't subside."
Gu Liang's body stiffened abruptly, burying his face deeper into his arm and curling tighter into himself—a posture of silent acquiescence, a surrender of resistance.
Her gaze held no flicker of emotion, only focused, clinical calm. She knew that any hesitation or sympathy now would only inflict greater harm. Thorough debridement was the only option. She was aware the iodine solution would be too harsh there, but the first-aid kit contained no gentler mucosal disinfectant. Compared to uncontrolled infection, the brief, intense pain was a necessary sacrifice.
When the iodine solution touched the most sensitive wound, Gu Liang's body snapped upright like a fully drawn bowstring, a suppressed, inhuman wail forced from his throat. This pain was ten times more intense than treating the external wounds.
Before the agony could fully subside, she carefully sprinkled crushed antibiotic powder onto the most severe wounds, then bandaged them with clean dressings. Only after completing this did she release her grip on his shoulders, her forehead now beaded with fine sweat.
Gu Liang was drenched in cold sweat as if he'd been pulled from water, leaning exhausted against the tree roots, his chest still heaving violently.
Emma retrieved the silver thermal blanket, wrapping him tightly within it before draping her own blanket over him as well. Then, standing guard at the tree hollow entrance with her back to him, she began cleaning and maintaining the bow and arrows seized from the bandits, while also re-sharpening the blade of her hunting knife.
She said nothing and did not look at him. With this silent, guarded posture, she conveyed: I'll handle security. You just rest.
For a time, the hollow was filled only with Gu Liang's heavy breathing, the scratching sound of the whetstone against the blade, and the occasional bird song drifting in from the forest outside.
The fever's haze washed over him like waves, repeatedly drowning his consciousness.He tossed and turned in his daze, fragmented memories and nightmares intertwining—the weightlessness of falling, A Lie's golden pupils, the whistling of the stone axe cutting through the air, the greedy faces of the bandits, and Emma's blinding flashlight beam and the firm arms that pushed him away...
"...Cold..." he moaned unconsciously between shivering teeth.
Emma, guarding the cave entrance, paused. She turned back, watching the figure still curled and trembling beneath the thermal blanket. After a moment's hesitation, she set down her knife and whetstone, silently walked over, and sat beside him. She pressed the side of her body gently against his blanket-wrapped, still-shivering back.
She offered no embrace, no excessive contact—only a steady source of warmth.
Gu Liang, drifting in a semi-conscious haze, sensed the real warmth radiating from behind him—a warmth distinct from the blanket's reflection. Strangely, his trembling began to subside. It was as if, adrift in an endless sea of ice, he had grasped a piece of driftwood. Though still carried by the currents, he no longer felt utterly alone and helpless.
Night fell, deepening the forest's chill.
Emma remained alert, periodically forcing Gu Liang to drink sips of water laced with medicine and salted sugar. In the latter half of the night, his fever seemed to peak. He began to speak, muttering incoherently, "No... go away..." Once, he lashed out violently with his arm, nearly striking Emma, who stood mere inches away.
Emma deftly dodged, then reached out—not to restrain him, but to steady his flailing wrist in a firm grasp. Her palm was dry and warm, radiating unwavering strength.
"It's okay," she whispered, her voice unusually clear in the silent hollow. "I'm here. It's safe."
Perhaps it was the medication taking effect, or perhaps those brief yet powerful words pierced through the nightmare. Gu Liang's struggling gradually weakened. Instead, he clasped her wrist tightly with his other hand, as if it were his only lifeline. He gripped so hard his nails nearly dug into her skin.
Emma didn't pull away, letting him hold her while her other hand remained pressed against the knife hilt at her waist. Her gaze remained alert, fixed on the heavy darkness outside the hollow.
This night felt exceptionally long.
For Gu Liang, it was a prolonged tug-of-war with death, sustained by pain, fear, and a faint yet persistent warmth.
For Emma, this was her first trial since crossing over, facing the life-threatening crisis of a companion alone. She was not only a guardian but also a doctor, a nurse—the only one who could pull him back from the abyss.
As the first pale light of dawn touched the horizon, Gu Liang's fever finally began to break. The grip on Emma's wrist loosened, and he slipped into a relatively peaceful slumber.
Emma gently withdrew her numb wrist, studying the clear imprint of his fingers. She touched Gu Liang's forehead again—the heat had significantly subsided. She exhaled a long, silent sigh of relief.
She stood up, stretched her stiff body, and sat back down at the cave entrance. Picking up the cooled jerky, she began chewing it in small bites.
Morning light filtered through the gaps in the leaves, streaming into the hollow. It fell upon Gu Liang's brow, finally relaxed after his deep sleep, and upon Emma's calm yet undeniably weary profile.
The crisis was not yet fully averted, but the most perilous moment seemed to have passed. In this isolated tree hollow, a trust beyond words had been quietly forged at the edge of life and death.
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