Another person reached out and touched Ningās forehead.
It was so hot it felt like his hand was scorched by fire.
"Itās burning up, Shan Feng, his head is so hot. Could he be sick?" The person withdrew his hand, shaking it as he spoke anxiously.
Upon hearing this, a trace of worry flickered in Shan Fengās eyes as he slowly placed his hand on Ningās forehead.
An abnormal heat transmitted through Ningās skin to his palm.
So hot!
Shan Feng quickly looked over Ningās bodyāburning up, red with heat.
"So hot, so hot, so hot." Ningās eyes were clenched shut as he moaned in pain with furrowed brows.
Hearing Ningās words, Shan Feng spoke with uncertainty, "That doesnāt make sense, the temperature has dropped so much, why would he feel hot? He was fine when it was hotter before, so why is it like this now?"
"Do you feel hot now?" Shan Feng looked up and asked the person.
"Not at all, I think the temperature is just right now."
"But looking at his symptoms now, itās somewhat like a fever, yet also like heatstroke, but why the nosebleed? What in the world is going on?" Shan Feng was confused; he was not a doctor, and his life experience couldnāt tell him what was happening to his brother.
The oldest-looking man, who had been silent beside the fire, finally spoke up:
"Recently weāve had little to eat, which has already led to weakness. Plus, itās been so hot in the past few days, and now thereās a sudden drop in temperature. Fluctuating between hot and cold, the body definitely canāt take it. Perhaps thatās whatās happening to Ning."
"Then, what do we do now?" There was panic in Shan Fengās eyes. He had already lost his son, and if he lost his brother too, he would have no family left in this world.
Hearing the older man speak, Shan Feng grasped at this lifeline, propped Ning against the wall, and hurried over.
"Do you know what to do? You must know, right?" he said urgently to the older man.
The older man, his face lined deep as ravines, looked at Shan Feng and then at Ning.
Sighing inwardly, he figured itās easy to run a fever under such drastic temperature changes, and without fever-reducing medicine, it would be tough.
He unhooked a water flask from his waist and handed it to Shan Feng, "Give Ning some water to drink first, heās very likely running a fever. We donāt have any fever-reducing medicine here, alas..."
Shan Feng took the flask, somewhat dazedly helped Ning and gave him some water to drink.
Unexpectedly after drinking, Ning began to tremble violently.
"So cold, so cold, so cold, so icy. Iām dying." Ning murmured in a low voice, shaking like a sieve.
Shan Feng quickly grabbed a mat from the table.
And placed it under Ning.
"Cold, cold, cold, so cold."
Hearing Ning like this, others also brought over some bedding from behind them.
Layer upon layer, three layers of quilts covered him.
In this weather over thirty degrees, Ningās face was red as a tandoori shrimp, his matted hair steaming white.
Sweat poured from his skin as though it cost nothing.
"Hot, hot, so hot." In his stupor, Ning suddenly pushed away the quilts covering him, trembling all over.
Shan Feng, bustling around attending to the situation, felt deeply uncomfortable seeing his brother like this.
The oldest man had returned to the fireās side, his eyes filled with sorrow.
Suddenly, he spoke out, "Shan Feng, if only we had joined the Big Camphor Tree Base from the start, Iāve heard they have a medical room there."
Crackācrackā
Hearing these words, Shan Fengās hands clenched the quilt tightly, the veins on his arms bulging from the force.
Last time, when his son had died, he too had heard someone mention this.
Though he knew, he knew it was an unwise decision not to go, but once heās made up his mind, he never regretted it, never admitted he was wrong, not even in death!
The older man, through the flicker of the firelight, saw Shan Fengās reaction, and heaved a silent sigh, regretting why he hadnāt just left the group and gone directly to the Big Camphor Tree Base.
On the ground.
Ning alternated between feeling cold and hot, sweat constantly emerging.
The cloth on his nose shook loose unintentionally in the trembling.
With nothing to stop it, blood flowed again from his nostrils.
This fresh blood...
With the odor of fresh blood quietly emanating through the slits of the basement door, spreading silently with the air outside...
And outside the basement, by the small bridge, a few zombies just happened to be passing by.
...
Big Camphor Tree Base.
Lights were still sprinkled here and there.
Spotlights turned on.
After drinking some porridge and resting for two days, Ju Tianrui had fully recovered.
Then, Dong Tai fetched him back to Second Outer City. Seeing how many people the Big Camphor Tree Base had helped, his recognition of the base grew stronger.
The effort it took to build such a grand base in the apocalypse was beyond his imagination.
Yet, what he didnāt know was that most of the walls here were already built before the end times.
Otherwise, erecting such walls during the apocalypse would not just require manpower and resources, which were minor issues, but the frequent appearance of zombies nearby was the biggest trouble.