A cowherd boy, leading a black water buffalo, raced away along the muddy ground before the window!
Jiang Feng stood frozen, his eyes wide. "This..."
He looked down at his body. There was no body of golden light—his abdomen was wrapped in bandages, and one of his hands was in a plaster cast!
The weakness from having overdrawn his body, coupled with the cold wind lashing his head, made his head sink. He nearly collapsed, but quickly reached out and braced himself against the table beside him.
"Who... am I?"
Jiang Feng's heart roared.
Just then, a rapid set of footsteps came from outside. Jiang Feng turned to look. The door opened, and a middle-aged woman entered the room. The moment she stepped inside, she noticed the room was filled with cold wind.
"Honestly, Xiao Li, why didn't you close the window... This wind..." The middle-aged woman turned toward the window and spotted Jiang Feng standing beside it. She immediately stopped shouting. "Oh my, you're awake?"
"Why are you standing by the window? Your injuries are so serious—you can't be exposed to cold wind!!"
As she spoke, the middle-aged woman moved to support Jiang Feng.
Jiang Feng unwillingly glanced at the cowherd boy and old black water buffalo, who were about to vanish into the rain. His gaze swept over the mud, covered in hoofprints and the boy's footprints. "Which footprint was it?"
"What do you mean, which footprint? What nonsense are you talking about?" The middle-aged woman grabbed Jiang Feng's arm—the one without the cast—and half-dragged, half-supported him back to the bed.
Jiang Feng discovered that he actually lacked the strength to resist this middle-aged woman, who looked as though she could not even truss a chicken!
As the woman shut the window, the cold wind stopped pouring into