Young Master Mo, Are You Done Kissing?

Chapter 890: The Story of Ling and Heng (153)

Translator: Henyee Translations Editor: Henyee Translations

"You said not to worry, but look at you. You haven't slept all night. Earlier, you only closed your eyes for less than an hour, and now you're working again." Da Bin watched as Feng Ling moistened Boss's lips. He sighed. "You should go rest first. Call Fattie and someone else to replace you. There are so many of us here. Let's take turns."

"It's fine. I won't be able to sleep even if I lay down. Boss's fever is so high. Who can sleep well right now?"

That was true. Although the rest of the men had left this tent, when Da Bin went to the other tent to retrieve some items last night, they were all awake. Even when they laid down, they were unable to get much rest. Everyone was worried about Boss's condition.

Due to Boss's high fever, he had difficulties breathing right now. If the tent was overcrowded, it would only worsen his condition. Thus, everyone could only wait in the next tent. They took turns to come in to care for him.

"Although Boss is unconscious, he seems to have no problems drinking water. I'll make some porridge. You feed some to him."

Feng Ling nodded.

—-

On the morning of the second day of Li Nanheng's fever, a group of people struggled and prepared porridge clumsily. It wasn't easy to feed him porridge, but thankfully, Feng Ling was patient. Even though a small bowl of porridge took her two whole hours, she made sure to warm it up when it cooled down before resuming.

By evening, the doctor still had not arrived. When they call the base, the people there also sounded very concerned. They said they would get back to them; however, they were unable to contact the doctor and even lost contact with Feng Ling and the other members. The group of them had lost signal on the mountain.

Finally, news came in the evening. The doctor and the members accompanying him had met with an avalanche on their way here, and their car was trapped on the road. Taking the country's response speed, the traffic and weather into consideration, it would take at least forty-eight hours for them to be freed. The base needed to dispatch a rescue team out for them, but the current snowstorm would inevitably affect the speed and quality of the aid.

This meant that, even though the people and the heart of the base were located here, it would be difficult for them to send help directly. The people trapped in the avalanche did not bring extra petrol, food, or winter clothes that could tide them over this wait. It was a matter of life and death, and the base had no choice but to prioritize providing rescue to them. If Boss Li were awake, he would surely also make the same decision of rescuing the doctor first.

Montana's snowstorm also affected Roger's Pass's weather. They dealt with a snowstorm that lasted for days, and the temperature dropped significantly. The cold kept everyone indoors, hiding in the tents to look for warmth.

Just like this, Li Nanheng endured for three days. Yesterday, his temperature finally reduced to thirty-nine degrees Celcius but did not drop any further. He also remained unconscious.

On the afternoon of the third day, Feng Ling could no longer continue guarding by his bedside. She was forcefully brought away by Da Bin and Da Hu to the other tent to rest. She was truly exhausted, and after drinking a cup of warm water and a cup of warm milk, she collapsed on the bed. However, due to her worries, she had nightmare after nightmare. Nonetheless, she at least managed to have a few hours of rest.

She slept until 11:00 p.m. On the snow mountain, their campsite was silent. Feng Ling opened her eyes to see the men on the beds by her side. Everyone was already asleep. She sat up from the bed and got off with light feet. She did not disturb them as she headed to the tent she formerly shared with Li Nanheng.

Feng Ling entered the tent to find that the air carried the scent of fermented soybean spirit. For the past few days, to reduce Boss's temperature externally, they had wiped his body down frequently with the spirit. Thus, Feng Ling did not pay much attention to it. Fattie was guarding by the bedside. His forehead was slowly dropping down, and it was clear he was falling asleep.

She approached and patted Fattie on the back, asking softly: "Where's Da Bin? Why are you alone?"

Fattie was startled awake. He turned back to see her before releasing a breath: "Ah, he's on night shift tonight. He was worried that there would be enemies hiding in ambush and went out to patrol. He needs to circle through the river nearby. It hasn't been too long since he left. He should only return when the sky brightens."

Feng Ling took another glance at Fattie: "Go next door and rest. I've been sleeping since the afternoon, and I'm fine now. I'll guard here. You go rest."

Fattie nodded. He was drowsy, and after stretching his waist, he headed out.

Before he could leave the tent, Feng Ling suddenly asked strangely: "Why is there such a strong scent of alcohol? Did you wipe Boss down with the alcohol again?"

Fattie paused in his footsteps and turned back with a cheeky smile: "No, I fed Boss a bottle of fermented soybean spirit."

Feng Ling was about to touch Li Nanheng's forehead. Upon hearing his words, her hand stiffened. She swerved around to look at Fattie: "You fed him alcohol? His fever is so serious, and you fed him alcohol? Have you gone mad?"

"Calm down first!" Fattie saw that Feng Ling's expression had instantly turned upset and rushed to explain: "I previously also experienced a similar case of fever. I understand Boss's suffering too well. I tested his temperature earlier; it has reduced to 38.6 degrees Celcius. He should be recovering soon. But it's during this recovery state that you'll experience an excruciating headache. When this was happening to me, I wished someone could give me some alcohol so that the pain would be easier to endure. But I couldn't even open my eyes or speak. I feel that Boss must be in a similar situation. I only gave him a bottle of soybean spirit. It isn't much. Around a quarter of a liter."

"A quarter of a liter?!" If Feng Ling's eyes could kill, Fattie's heart would be penetrated with an arrow by now: "Fattie, this is murder, doy you understand? He has a fever!"

"It's fine. Men aren't that weak. Besides, alcohol is similar to an anesthetic. It can relieve a lot of the pain…"

"Scram!" Feng Ling snapped in anger.

Seeing that she was truly upset, Fattie could not say more. He wanted to explain further, but Feng Ling's expression was terrible. He could only wait for Da Bin to return the next morning before continuing. He turned to leave the tent.

Feng Ling sat by the bed with a cold expression. She touched the man's forehead and picked up the thermometer by the side. After seeing that his temperature was 38.6 degrees Celcius, she finally let out a sigh of relief. However, the instant she lowered her head, she could smell the scent of alcohol on the man. She immediately rolled her eyes darkly toward the tent next door.

Coincidentally, Fattie was standing by the window, and he smiled at her, as though to earn her favor. She reached out in anger and tugged the curtain down, blocking her sight of everything outside!