Thien Anh waved his hand dismissively, his tone not one of reprimand, but rather like a father coaxing difficult children.
"That's enough, you two. Stop scaring her." He let out a faint sigh. "If she dies, who's going to fix us when we're broken?"
Thien Lang huffed, his snout wrinkling in a pout. "Ki was just saying…"
Azure Sky retracted her tongue, coiling herself comfortably around Thien Anh's shoulder. "Fine, fine. We won't eat her, alright? But… looking at her, she's so pathetic. I truly hate weak things."
Thien Anh offered a small, rare smile and patted their heads.
"She'll get better with time. Now, go to the living room, eat your meal, and keep an eye on the surveillance monitors. Let me see how she's doing."
Seeing that their master had issued a definitive order, the two beasts obeyed. Thien Lang clamped his jaws onto the remaining wyvern thigh and dragged it toward the living room. Azure Sky slithered after him, casting a lingering, sideways glance at Lam Linh that clearly signaled, "I've marked you, sister."
Once his "children" were out of sight, Thien Anh turned his full attention back to the patient.
He retrieved the medical kit and took Lam Linh's temperature.
"39.5 degrees Celsius. That's high."
Thien Anh furrowed his brow. A high fever coupled with extreme exhaustion was a lethal combination in a world devoid of proper medical infrastructure. Fortunately, he was not lacking in supplies.
He administered an antipyretic injection along with a dose of fortifying nutrients, then applied a cooling patch to her forehead. Gazing at Lam Linh's pale face and parched, cracked lips, Thien Anh sighed.
"Quite the debt I'm collecting here."
He stood up and headed for the kitchen. A sick person needed something liquid and highly nutritious. In the freezer sat the heart of the Tier-2 mutated wyvern they had just harvested. According to reports, the heart of a mutated beast contained the highest concentration of cellular regenerative nutrients.
"Wyvern heart congee. A dish even the kings of old could only dream of."
Thien Anh finely minced a portion of the vibrant crimson heart, lightly sautéing it with shallots to release the aroma before adding it to the simmering pot of rice. The rich, savory fragrance quickly permeated the entire bunker.
...
An hour later.
Lam Linh stirred slightly, her lashes fluttering before her eyes slowly drifted open. Her head throbbed as if struck by a mallet, and her throat felt like scorched earth.
"Awake?"
A low, resonant voice drifted over her. Lam Linh turned her head to find Thien Anh sitting beside the bed, holding a steaming bowl of congee.
"Mr. Huy…" Her voice was a raspy whisper. She tried to sit up, but her limbs felt like overcooked noodles.
"Stay still. You're running a high fever."
Thien Anh supported her, helping her lean against the headboard and propping pillows behind her for comfort. He scooped a spoonful of porridge, blowing on it gently to cool it before bringing it to her lips.
"Eat. You need your strength back."
Lam Linh looked at the spoonful of food, then at Thien Anh's face. Despite the scars, his expression at this moment was unexpectedly tender. A lump formed in her throat.
"Thank you…"
She opened her mouth to eat. The deep, savory sweetness of the wyvern heart blended with the fragrant jasmine rice, reawakening her senses. A wave of warmth radiated from her stomach, spreading through her frozen limbs.
"Good?"
"Very," Lam Linh nodded feebly.
Thien Anh scooped another spoonful, making conversation as he fed her to keep her conscious.
"I'm curious. Before you met me, were you living alone in that hospital? With this fragile constitution of yours, how did you survive the Ghouls' sweeps?"
Lam Linh swallowed a mouthful of congee, her gaze turning somber.
"I wasn't alone. I had a close friend with me… she was the head nurse. We managed to stockpile some food and medicine in a vault."
"And where is she now?"
"She's… dead." Lam Linh's voice caught in her throat.
Thien Anh remained silent for a moment before speaking.
"Life and death are matters of fate. No one can predict the end."
Lam Linh looked at Thien Anh, her gaze complicated.
"Mr. Huy, why are you being so kind to me?"
Thien Anh let out a cynical scoff, his hand steadily stirring the bowl.
"Don't misunderstand. I am not a good man. I saved you because you have value. You know medicine, you know research, and you have immense potential for growth."
He locked his gaze with hers.
"You're like a high-potential stock."
Lam Linh let out a soft giggle, though tears still lingered on her lashes.
"You really are…"
She looked down at the dry, clean clothes she was wearing, and her face flushed slightly.
"By the way… these clothes… did you change them for me?"
Thien Anh nodded matter-of-factly.
"Yeah. Leaving wet clothes on leads to pneumonia. I cut them off and put dry ones on you. Don't worry, I was quick; I didn't see anything. Besides, as I said, looking at you right now—a literal walking bag of bones—I have zero interest in anything untoward."
"You…!" Lam Linh was speechless, torn between embarrassment and irritation. This man… every time he opened his mouth, he shattered any hint of a romantic atmosphere.
"Finish the bowl. Then take your medicine and go back to sleep. If you aren't better by tomorrow, I'm charging you a medical fee."
Thien Anh decisively shoved the last spoonful into her mouth, effectively silencing the doctor's indignation.