"Asheng, Asheng..." Fu Yanlin held Wen Sheng in his arms, choking back sobs.
Wen Sheng closed her eyes weakly and fainted again. Her pale hand was covered in dried blood, dirt, and grass scraps. Several gashes cut by wild grass lined her arm.
She clung to Fu Yanlin's clothing, unconscious.
Fu Yanlin held her, feeling her burning body temperature. Under the dim light of dawn, he could faintly see the feverish glow on her face.
They had endured a night of rain, stuck in a godforsaken place where the mountain wind roared and rain poured incessantly. Soaked by the rain and left in the cold for an entire night, how could she not have a fever?
At that moment, regret choked Fu Yanlin.
Guilt and remorse churned in his heart.
He couldn't imagine how such a delicate young girl had spent the night in a damp, cold, weed-ridden cave. How much pain had she felt when she fell? In this godforsaken place, her cries for help would have gone unanswered. She must have been terrified.
