Jiang Wu hunched over as he walked into the boy's shack.
Sunlight streamed through the leaky walls, illuminating the small shack, which was only about ten square meters in size.
Against the wall, a low bed was made of mud and covered with scraps of cloth.
A little boy who looks to be only about 10 years old is lying on the scraps of cloth.
The boy had his eyes closed, and his thin face was flushed.
Even when so many people suddenly entered the shack, he didn't react much.
On the other side of the wall, there was a pile of firewood and a small earthen stove made of stones.
There was a worn-out tin can on top.
The boy handed Jiang Wu the only wooden stool in the shed.
He then went to check on the little boy's condition.
Jiang Wu examined the wooden stool in his hand; it was already patinaed.
It's probably been quite a few years.
Jiang Wu handed the wooden stool to Su Ziyu and walked to the side of the little boy lying down.
I took off my snakeskin gloves and touched his forehead; it was burning hot.
Jiang Wu glanced at the obviously flustered boy surnamed Li and asked calmly, "Is there a hospital in here?"
Tang Jia, who was standing next to her, quickly said, "There are small clinics, but they are very expensive. The consultation fee alone costs five taels of rice, and the medicine is even more outrageously expensive. I went to see one a long time ago, and one dose of fever reducer costs at least ten jin of rice."
Jiang Wu was taken aback; very few people in his base got sick.
Even if you get sick, there is a good supply of all kinds of medicines.
Unexpectedly, at the Donghu base, one antipyretic pill costs ten kilograms of rice.
Is medicine just that expensive in post-apocalyptic times?
Or is it because of the monopoly of those forces?
Continue read on readnovelmtl.com
