Chapter 123: Zhou Sinian in Trouble!

“Zhou Sinian! Zhou Sinian! Wake up!” Ming Dai called out urgently as she quickly checked his pulse.

After feeling his pulse, she was shocked by his physical condition—every part of Zhou Sinian’s immune system was sounding alarm bells.

Her worst fears had come true: Zhou Sinian’s body was out of control.

All the effort she had poured into maintaining his balance had collapsed overnight. His current state was extremely dangerous.

What could have caused such a severe shock that his entire being was breaking down like this?

Following his gaze, Ming Dai noticed the box on the shelf.

At that moment, she deeply regretted bringing back the tiger bone.

Zhou Sinian’s eyes were half-closed, his gaze unfocused—he clearly had not regained consciousness.

Ming Dai dared not delay. Using her spatial ability, she carried Zhou Sinian back to his room.

Laying him on the bed, she fetched her medical kit and quickly sterilized everything, intending to first administer an injection to stop the loss of vital energy.

As she removed Zhou Sinian’s shirt, a sharp intake of breath escaped her lips at the sight of the extensive wounds.

A claw mark ran across his entire chest.

The severity of the scar’s swelling and entanglement indicated it was a fatal injury.

Combined with Zhou Sinian’s abnormal state, the creature responsible for this wound was undoubtedly the tiger he feared.

Ming Dai’s heart clenched with regret for accepting that tiger bone.

She continued undressing Zhou Sinian, revealing one injury after another—cuts, bullet wounds, and some unknown marks—scattered across his once flourishing body.

Steeling herself, Ming Dai administered the injection.

Half an hour later, Zhou Sinian lay bare-chested and pale as death, drenched in cold sweat, cheeks flushed, mumbling something indistinct. Ming Dai leaned closer and caught only “Run quickly,” the rest lost in whispers.

Used to Zhou Sinian’s carefree nature and accustomed to his strength, seeing him suddenly so ill and fragile tore at her heart.

Though she already knew how his previous life ended, the wounds on his body shocked her—how much pain he must have endured!

She could not accept that such a vibrant man would perish alone in the mountains, possibly leaving no remains.

In this lifetime, no matter what, she would keep Zhou Sinian alive.

Raising the room’s temperature, Ming Dai carefully stepped out to the warehouse and gathered herbs to brew a medicine for him.

Shortly after she left, Zhou Sinian’s eyes fluttered open—unfocused and unable to fixate—and he murmured weakly, “Ming Dai, Ming Dai, it hurts...”

Once the medicine was ready and cooled, Ming Dai returned to his room.

He remained unconscious, showing no signs of awakening.

She removed the needle, felt his pulse, and breathed a sigh of relief—life was sustained; now all that was left was recovery.

Zhou Sinian was like a fragile porcelain piece riddled with cracks—he could not withstand much more turmoil. Extreme sorrow or joy could shorten his already limited lifespan, even if Ming Dai saved him.

Noticing the bed soaked with cold sweat beneath him, she gently lifted him into midair, carefully wiped him clean, and replaced his pajamas and bedding.

Ming Dai was grateful for her spatial powers at this moment; otherwise, her small frame could never have managed Zhou Sinian alone.

Perhaps it was the fresh clothes and sheets, but Zhou Sinian’s tightly furrowed brow relaxed slightly.

Ming Dai brought the medicine cup to his lips.

After much effort, she pried his teeth open and slipped the medicine inside, but he immediately pushed it out with his tongue, whining and clearly disliking the bitterness.

After several failed attempts, Ming Dai sighed but knew he had to take it. Pinching his nose, she forced the medicine down his throat.

She was skilled enough to prevent choking, though he stuck out his tongue in protest, pitiful yet endearing.

She quickly prepared a bowl of honey water and fed it to him, finally calming him as he fell back asleep.

Ming Dai sat quietly by his side for a while, ensuring no adverse reaction to the medicine and that his sleep was deep before she allowed herself to relax.

Staring at his peaceful yet youthful face, she found herself lost in thought—Zhou Sinian was full of contradictions.

Sometimes his innocence made one forget his age and stature, seeming only marginally better than a child.

Other times, his strength and reliability reassured her—when he promised something, he delivered, and having him around brought great comfort.

But tonight, the heavy burden and agony enveloping him was heart-wrenching.

Had she not been there, the weight of fear and regret could have claimed him this very night.

Ming Dai whispered softly, “What secret do you carry within you?”

Once she confirmed his condition was stable, she slung a basket filled with the herbal medicine she had prepared and went alone to the captain’s house.

Aunt Huang was surprised to see her alone. “Why didn’t Zhou Zhiqing come with you?”

Because of Ming Dai’s involvement and Zhou Sinian’s changed state, the captain’s family had altered how they referred to him.

Ming Dai had been busy all morning and hadn’t eaten, her complexion pale.

“He caught a cold. I didn’t bring him along. Also, please tell Aunt Huang to keep Tie Dan and the others from going to play with him to avoid spreading the illness to the children.”

Aunt Huang nodded quickly. “You should take care of yourself too—you don’t look well.”

Ming Dai smiled faintly and did not explain. She handed the basket to Black Tiger.

“Brother Huzi, here’s the medicine. I’ve divided it into doses. Just put them in breathable cloth bags and hang them from the trees. Most wild beasts dislike this scent; it should work.”

Black Tiger accepted the basket gratefully, repeatedly thanking her.

Concerned about Zhou Sinian in the space, Ming Dai did not linger. After a brief exchange, she returned home.

Back in the space, she checked on Zhou Sinian—still asleep, the flushed redness on his face had faded, now pale to an even more alarming degree.

But Ming Dai knew this meant the evil fire had been expelled, and she felt relieved.

After closing the door, she warmed some buns and drank milk herself.

Zhou Sinian would not wake for a while, so Ming Dai prepared some easily digestible porridge and kept it warm in the warehouse.

She sat by his bedside to keep watch, afraid he might wake and not find her.

After waiting a long time, she finally dozed off at the foot of the bed.

Zhou Sinian slept all day and was finally awakened by a fierce burning sensation in his stomach.

He struggled to open his eyes, dazed, staring at the ceiling and recognizing his own room.

Trying to sit up, he found his entire body aching and weak, unable to summon any strength.

What had happened to him?

His mouth moved involuntarily, tasting something sweet instead of the bitterness he expected.

Nearby, shallow breathing stirred him. Turning his head, he saw Ming Dai sleeping soundly.

He tried to speak, but his throat felt glued shut, no sound escaping.

He stretched out a hand, gently brushing Ming Dai’s face.

The cold touch startled her awake. She sat up abruptly and met Zhou Sinian’s pitiful, wide eyes.

She stretched and smiled warmly. “You’re awake? How do you feel?”

Zhou Sinian moved his lips but could not speak.

Ming Dai gestured for him to wait and went outside to pour him another cup of honey water.

His eyes lit up at the sight of the drink as he struggled to sit up.

She placed the bowl in front of him and propped two pillows behind his back.

“You don’t have strength in your hands. I’ll feed you.”

Hearing this, he stopped struggling and obediently waited.

Ming Dai brought the cup to his lips, listening to him gulp down the entire bowl—he was truly thirsty.

The honey water soothed his burning stomach and scratchy throat.

He savored the sweetness, rubbed his rumbling belly, and pitifully said, “Ming Dai, I’m hungry. I want grilled fish and braised silly roe deer.”

Ming Dai sighed. Nothing could quench a foodie’s longing for delicious food.

“Forget the grilled fish and roe deer. I made you porridge—you can only drink porridge now.”

Zhou Sinian pouted, tucking his chin into the blanket and looking at her with pleading eyes. “Porridge? Can you put meat in it?”

Ming Dai softened. “Not now. Tomorrow, maybe. Today, just plain porridge.”

He begged pitifully, “Ming Dai, I want sugar.”

That was acceptable. Ming Dai added honey to his porridge.

When Zhou Sinian drank it, the sweet taste finally satisfied him. If Ming Dai hadn’t stopped him, he would have poured it all down at once.

After finishing one bowl, he wanted more, but Ming Dai refused—he couldn’t drink too much just after waking.

After two requests denied, he lay quietly.

Ming Dai sat beside the bed, chatting intermittently and carefully watching his expressions.

Zhou Sinian looked normal now, free from the morning’s pain, as if he had returned to his carefree self.

But when the conversation turned to the warehouse, he still instinctively avoided the topic.

Ming Dai worried his condition might relapse again.