"The captain has a fever! His high fever won't come down!"
The instant Xiao Ma's voice blasted through the convoy's loudspeaker, Yang Yong was groggily turning over.
The fear that cry could not conceal drove into his half-awake mind like an ice pick.
He sprang upright.
A sense of foreboding surged over him like a tide, weighing heavily on his chest.
The convoy immediately stopped.
No one gave an order, but everyone knew...
Captain Cao's high fever must have been burning for a long time.
If he never woke up, if that fever damaged his brain...
Yang Yong dared not think further.
The mere thought sent a chill racing up his back.
Cao Xianming alone held up the sky over this convoy.
By the time Yang Yong, Wang Ying, and Zheng Xiaofeng rushed over, Xiao Ma had already opened the door of Cao Xianming's Off-Road Vehicle.
Inside, Cao Xianming lay in the second row with a damp towel on his forehead. His once-resolute face now looked as gray and wasted as a crumpled old newspaper.
Wang Ying stepped forward and reached out.
The moment her fingertips touched Cao Xianming's forehead...
"Hiss..."
She jerked her hand back as though a red-hot branding iron had seared her.
Her fingertips were still trembling.
"So hot."
Those were all she said, but her voice shook.
Xiao Ma stood beside her, his eyes terribly red, the hand holding the infrared thermometer trembling too. "I just checked. Forty-three degrees... Sister Ying, if this keeps up, the fever really will damage him..."
By the end, his voice had broken so badly he could barely form a sentence.
Wang Ying closed her eyes and took a deep breath.
Forty-three degrees.
She forced herself to think:
*Captain Cao is a Sequence Transcendent. His constitution far surpasses an ordinary person's.