She continued to wrap the bandages while softly calling his name, her voice thick with sobs.
God, what a cruel twist of fate… I didn’t kill Boren, yet Boren…
“You promised you wouldn’t die. Top Jungler keeps his word! Remember that time in the canyon, when you, at critical health, turned around and killed five enemies? Come on, get up…”
Her words tumbled out in a jumble, part pleading, part self-encouragement.
The bandages wrapped around his arm, the white cloth quickly soaked through by the strange bluish-black blood seeping from deep within the wound. Yet the seepage seemed… slightly slower than before?
Was it the pressure she applied that helped stop the bleeding?
Or…
Su Qianqian did not dare think further.
She finally finished, tying a firm knot.
She stared at Lin Chen’s arm, now wrapped in the new white “bundle” slowly being stained by dark blood, then at his lifelessly pale face. A crushing wave of helplessness and sorrow washed over her.
She slumped to the floor, leaning against the equally cold iron door, her body trembling from exhaustion and lingering fear.
Outside, the zombies’ pounding and scratching continued, like the background soundtrack of hell.
Inside the warehouse, under the dim yellow light, only her heavy breaths and Lin Chen’s faint, almost imperceptible breathing could be heard.
Silence, deathly silence, so heavy it was suffocating.
She had no sense of time—perhaps only a few minutes, perhaps an eternity.
During that time, she even thought she should find something to eat. She might as well go out full!
Finally, a faint voice, hoarse and scratchy like sandpaper rubbing, broke the silence:
“…water…”
Su Qianqian flinched violently, almost thinking she was hallucinating.
She stiffly turned her head toward Lin Chen.
Under the dim light, his eyes remained tightly shut, his face ghostly pale, but the furrow of his brow had loosened slightly.
His colorless lips moved ever so slightly, forcing out a broken syllable:
“…water…”
Not a hallucination. He was awake! Or perhaps, even in unconsciousness, he had felt an extreme thirst.
A jolt of exhilaration shot through Su Qianqian’s exhausted, icy body.
She almost scrambled to his side, her voice pitched with excitement: “Water! Water! Hold on! Right now!”
She frantically rifled through the first aid kit, recalling that there were small bottles of sealed saline solution.
Found it!
Her hands trembled as she tore open the packaging and twisted the cap.
“Here, water’s coming. Slowly…”
She carefully brought the bottle to his cracked, gray-purple lips, tilting it to let the cold saline drip slowly into his mouth.
His throat moved with difficulty, instinctively swallowing the life-giving liquid.
After a few sips, his faint, nearly invisible breathing seemed to stabilize slightly, and the tight furrow in his brow eased a bit.
Su Qianqian held her breath, watching him nervously, fearing this fragile spark of life might extinguish again.
Another long stretch of time passed, feeling like an eternity.
Lin Chen’s heavy eyelids twitched with extreme effort, as if bearing an unbearable weight.
Finally, his thick eyelashes slowly lifted just a crack.
The dim yellow light stabbed into his hazy pupils, causing him to squint in discomfort.
His gaze was hollow and confused, devoid of sharpness, like a dusty glass bead without focus.
He slowly, painstakingly turned his heavy head, eyes scanning the warehouse’s cold ceiling, the stacked shadows of cardboard boxes.
Finally, with immense effort, his gaze fell on Su Qianqian kneeling beside him, face smeared with blood but eyes astonishingly bright.
His lips moved ever so slightly again, as if trying to recognize the familiar yet strange face before him.
A vague, meaningless exhalation came from his throat.
Su Qianqian tensed, leaning closer to hear.
Finally, in a faint, hoarse, yet startlingly clear voice, he barely managed to utter three words, as if summoning his last strength:
“…Cai…Wenji…?”
Huh?
Su Qianqian froze instantly.
She looked into Lin Chen’s eyes, now devoid of all sharpness, only confusion and fragility, like a lost child, and heard him call out the name of her most-used support hero in-game in a voice so weak it could barely be heard.
An indescribable torrent of absurdity, heartache, lingering fear, and immense relief broke through the dam of her frayed nerves.
“Pff…”
She first let out a short, nasal laugh, which quickly erupted into uncontrollable, post-apocalyptic sobs.
Tears gushed like a breached dam, washing blood and dust from her face.
“Y-yes! It’s me! Your Cai Wenji!”
He hadn’t turned into a zombie!
Crying and laughing at once, she nodded wildly, clutching his uninjured, still-cold hand, as if to grasp onto this regained life.
“Your Cai Wenji… pulled you back… Top Jungler…”
“Su Qianqian…” Lin Chen’s weak grasp of awareness returned slightly, summoned by her cries and the strength of her grip.
“I’m… here…”
His unfocused pupils barely adjusted, landing on Su Qianqian’s tear-streaked, bloodied face. “Wipe your… snot…”
“Waaah…” Ridiculous! Could he not form sentences properly?
Su Qianqian cried even harder.
Lin Chen’s brow twitched imperceptibly; his cracked lips moved as if to say something but only managed a faint, painful sigh, heavy eyelids closing again.
Yet this time, the tightness of his brow eased slightly. His breathing, still weak, no longer felt as if it could be extinguished with a gust of wind.
His left hand, held tightly in Su Qianqian’s, twitched faintly, almost imperceptibly, in her sweat-damp palm.
This tiny response was like a shot of adrenaline, stabilizing her near-breaking emotions.
Her sobs gradually subsided into stifled hiccups.
She wiped her face with a relatively clean sleeve, drew several deep breaths of the dusty, blood-scented air, and forced the turbulent emotions back into her chest.
Now was not the time to cry.
He was awake—but still in grave danger.
The wound… the strange bluish-black color…
And the constant, spine-chilling pounding and scratching outside the door.
“It’s okay… it’s okay…”
Brave QiuNiu fears no difficulty!
She murmured softly, as if comforting Lin Chen, but more to rally herself.
She gently released his hand so he could settle more comfortably, then immediately turned her attention back to the bright red first aid kit.
Under the dim light, she carefully checked its contents: tourniquet (already used), several rolls of sterile gauze, iodine swabs, medical tape, scissors, a small bottle of saline, a few individually packaged painkillers (ibuprofen), antibiotics (amoxicillin).
And the sealed epinephrine injector—the final ace.
Her gaze returned to Lin Chen’s newly bandaged arm, still slowly bleeding through dark stains, weighing heavy on her heart.
Infection… that thought gnawed at her like bone-eating worms.
The antibiotics had to be administered immediately.
She tore open the amoxicillin packaging, retrieving two white tablets.
Then grabbed the remaining saline bottle.
“Lin Chen, Lin Chen? Wake up… take your medicine…”
Her voice was very soft, tentative, careful.
If he were to turn… she would need to act before he could react.