Once again, when Xu Yunfei dreamt that Daliang had been trampled by the iron cavalry of Golden Flower Country, he finally woke up, sitting up abruptly, breathing heavily.
He found his mouth was so dry that it tasted bitter, and his body was so weak that he couldn't muster any strength.
"Hey, you're awake?" Old Zhao sleeping beside him was startled awake, and, seeing his state, heaved a sigh of relief, "You've been out cold for two days, how are you feeling? Any better? How can you be so frail? We're out here in the ice and snow all year, and we don't get sick that easily."
Xu Yunfei opened his mouth but couldn't speak.
"Wait a sec, I'll get you some water."
In the bitter cold of the Northern Region's military camp, what Old Zhao called "getting water" meant grabbing a handful of snow from outside.
Xu Yunfei had no choice but to stuff the snow into his mouth, numbing cold.