Yu Sheng's breathing steadied one fragile breath at a time.
No one in the medical room seemed willing to move while they listened.
The boy lay on the narrow bed with his bitten arm resting over folded cloth. The black veins that had climbed his neck were no longer visible, but faint shadows remained beneath his skin, like stains that had sunk too deeply to be washed away in one night. His fever had settled into something less violent. It was still high enough to concern the two doctors standing beside him, but no longer high enough to cook his thoughts inside his skull.
Tang Li Yue watched his chest rise and fall.
Only then did she finish wrapping the fresh bandage around her hand.
Lu Chengran stood between her and the window, his body positioned naturally enough that anyone looking from outside would see only his back. Professor Han had moved to the door without being asked. Dr. Xia remained beside Yu Sheng's bed, two fingers pressed against the boy's wrist.
