After an hour, whether it was the effect of the ice cloth on his forehead or the medicine, Luo Song's trembling finally slowly subsided.
Feeling Luo Song's neck, it was still a bit warm but much better than before, at least there was no need to worry about any lasting effects from the fever.
Just as Hua Jin was about to replace the ice cloth, Luo Song, who had been in a deep sleep, fluttered his eyelids. His long eyelashes brushed against Hua Jin's hand like soft feathers, prompting her to take a closer look and realize that he was waking up.
Breathed a sigh of relief while quickly retrieving items from the space; having a stranger around could be quite inconvenient, so it was best to be prepared.
As Hua Jin was arranging the items, the sickly young man with trembling eyelids finally opened his eyes, staring blankly at the carriage ceiling, as if wondering where and when he was.
His brain must still be recovering; the person seemed confused.
