Fan Zhiyi closed his eyes again. Seeing Bing Nandong staring at him for a long time, a hint of cunning flashed in his eyes. He also closed his eyes and leaned against the wall.
After a while, Fan Zhiyi was half asleep and half awake when he suddenly heard Bing Nandong's labored breathing, as if he would suffocate at any time and was suppressed.
Fan Zhiyi couldn't help but look up subconsciously. Bing Nandong's face was calm, his lips were slightly open, but his brows were still tightly furrowed.
Fan Zhiyi suddenly felt that something was wrong, and even his sleepiness instantly woke up a lot. He walked over to Bing Nandong and shook him: "Hey, are you okay?"
Bing Nandong didn't say anything, but just tilted his head uncomfortably.
Fan Zhiyi reached out to touch his forehead. Damn, it was so hot. It was a miracle that he was not burned to death.
Didn't you say you were a ghost? Can ghosts get fever?
Fan Zhiyi thought of Bing Nandong who had hurt himself twice, and then got caught in the rain, with so many wounds on his body, and was blown by the cool breeze, which made him look like he was fully buffed.
By the way, the male protagonists generally have good physical fitness, so it shouldn’t be a big deal even if they don’t care... emmm, that’s all.
In any case, Fan Zhiyi really couldn't just sit back and watch the person next to him. He mobilized his spiritual power according to the method Bing Nandong taught him before. After feeling a warm current in his body, he pressed Bing Nandong's wrist pulse and transferred the spiritual power to him, hoping to make him feel better.
At this time, Bing Nandong was still leaning against the wall. Fan Zhiyi knelt in front of him, his eyes inadvertently fixed on the other's face.
Because of the fever, Bing Nandong's hair was a little wet, so Fan Zhiyi reached out to tidy it up for him.
The male protagonist looks very young. Normally, you would never see him so vulnerable and harmless. He seems to be no different from the college student in his real world. However, how old is the male protagonist? It is never mentioned in the novel.
At this moment, Bing Nandong's thick eyelashes trembled, and then he slowly opened his eyes. At first, he was not focused, and there was only Fan Zhiyi in his slightly hazy eyes.
Fan Zhiyi was stunned as if he was bewitched. He held his breath and just looked at Bing Nandong. Looking at himself in the other's eyes, he seemed to have touched a deeper level of his soul.
"Don't worry about me, I'll be fine after a while of sleep." Bing Nandong's voice no longer had the energy it once had. He closed his eyes again, moved his body, and retracted his hand to prevent Fan Zhiyi from touching it. "Don't worry, even if I'm like this, I can still protect you."
Fan Zhiyi came back to his senses, pursed his lips, and sat down next to him against the wall. When he had a fever before, it was Bing Nandong who took care of him. Fan Zhiyi turned his head to look at Bing Nandong's back, wondering if the bleeding from his wound had stopped.
"Mr. Cen, Mr. Cen?" Fan Zhiyi called out, but the person next to him remained unmoved. Fan Zhiyi sighed and looked at the empty, dilapidated temple. It was a rainy night, and there was not even a light. It was terribly quiet and dark. The only sound he could hear was Bing Nandong's breathing, which was much heavier than usual.
Occasionally, there was a flash of gilded light in the talisman barrier set up by Bing Nandong. Fan Zhiyi didn't know if this meant what had just happened outside. Perhaps some ghost wanted to break in but was stopped. He didn't want to think so because it would infinitely increase his fear.
After all, Bing Nandong said that the world is not good now and there are many ghosts.
Although he had been sleepy just a moment ago, Fan Zhiyi couldn't sleep at all. His thoughts were swirling, but he had nothing specific to think about, so he just sat there in a daze. Since arriving here, he'd been running for his life, or being teased by Bing Nandong, so it was rare for him to have such quiet moments as now.
Suddenly, Bing Nandong turned over and fell towards Fan Zhiyi. Fan Zhiyi didn't have time to think and quickly put his arms around his shoulders and pulled him into his arms, preventing Bing Nandong's handsome face from hitting the ground.
Looking at the other person's lowered head, Fan Zhiyi moved his position and turned sideways, allowing the man to rest his head on his shoulder so that the wound would no longer be pressed and he could sleep more comfortably.
Fan Zhiyi called out again, "Mr. Cen, are you still awake? Do you have any medicine to reduce the fever?"
Bing Nandong seemed to mumble something, but Fan Zhiyi couldn't hear clearly, so he lowered his head. In this way, he finally heard clearly that he was calling "Zhiyi".
Fan Zhiyi sighed, but Bing Nandong leaned his head against Fan Zhiyi's shoulder, found a more comfortable spot and continued to sleep.
Fan Zhiyi could sense the heat from the other person through his clothes. An ordinary person burned like this would have died long ago. So, Bing Nandong could have lived a good life, but he chose to commit suicide, then act like a hero saving a beautiful woman. Fan Zhiyi really didn't understand what was going on in his head.
He glanced at the other person's hand, and after much hesitation, he chose to interlock his fingers with his, and then slowly transferred his spiritual power to him. Doing nothing but listening to the painful breathing of the person next to him was really torturous. Although he didn't know if this would work, it at least made him feel much better. After all, Fan Zhiyi really didn't like this feeling of being always powerless.
"Still as soft-hearted as before."
Fan Zhiyi said this after hearing Bing Nandong's thoughts.
Fan Zhiyi: "..." Didn't this guy already faint from the fever? Damn! Was he being tricked again?
Fan Zhiyi thought about it, but still did not withdraw his hand. Instead, Bing Nandong interlocked his fingers and shook hands with him tightly.
Never mind, that's all for today. Fan Zhiyi also closed his eyes, feeling that his previous plan to resurrect Bai Yueguang, which was so terrifying when he thought about it, was a little too unreliable.
It had rained at night, and the air in the forest was much more humid than in other places, but there was no fog. A few beams of light squeezed in from the broken parts of the ruined temple, and the tiny dust particles had nowhere to hide in the light and fluttered in the air.
Fan Zhiyi leaned against the wall, his head resting on Bing Nandong's head, breathing evenly, and their intertwined hands never separated.
After a while, the beam of light coming in from the window shifted its position, and Fan Zhiyi opened his eyes.
There was a head on his shoulder, so Fan Zhiyi stood up very carefully, but his neck, shoulders and waist were too sore. Fan Zhiyi moved his body slowly, his facial expression was extremely distorted, and he seemed to be sure that he had a stiff neck.
Bing Nandong was still asleep, but his breathing wasn't as painful and heavy as it had been the night before. Fan Zhiyi moved his fingers and found his hand was clenched tightly, as if afraid he would run away.
I'm a little hungry. Fan Zhiyi didn't know what time it was. He had no food with him, only a Qiankun bag, which contained several Qiankun bags filled with spirit stones.
Fan Zhiyi sighed, and then heard a low voice: "Why are you sighing?"
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