"Emily!" Panic overwhelmed Jacob. In his desperation, he shook Emily and said, "Emily, can you hear me?"
Jacob put her down gently and hung his head helplessly looking at Emily's blood-drained face and her pale lips in despair. Her eyes had frozen over like the surface of a winter puddle, robbing them of their usual warmth.
With his trembling hand, Jacob felt the breath under Emily's nose. It was extremely faint, like a tiny flicker against the wind. He put her on his back again, and ran quickly in the direction of the village.
On the way, withered thorn bushes and sharp stones cut his feet, but Jacob kept running in spite of the pain, as if his life was on the line.
Soon, the villagers momentarily caught sight of a figure flash by in the pouring rain. They wondered who would be stupid enough to run in the heavy rain on such a cold winter day. Was there something wrong with his brain?
The same road that once felt short now seemed extremely long, as if he would never run to the end of it. Jacob was so worried that he wished he had a pair of wings on his back to fly him home.
Not knowing how long he had been running, Jacob finally reached home.
He kicked open the door to Mr. Barefoot's room and strode in with Emily on his back. His breath came in short gasps and he managed to squeeze out a few words from his mouth. "Old man!
Old man, are you in? Come and save my wife!"
"What are you doing? You almost kicked my door down!" Mr. Barefoot walked in from outside, seemingly distressed by Jacob's impatience.
Jacob yanked Mr. Barefoot over, allowing him no room for resistance. "Save her quickly!" said Jacob.
"What's the matter? You are so troublesome," said Mr. Barefoot. Mr. Barefoot was excessively casual, but when he saw Emily's lifeless body, he immediately realized the severity of the situation. With a curious stare, he asked Jacob, "What's wrong with her?
Don't you know she shouldn't be out in the rain in her condition? She could die!"
Jacob's face changed when he heard the last sentence. He knelt down in front of Mr. Barefoot without hesitation and begged him, "Old man, please save her! I will do whatever you want! As long as you save her!"
Mr. Barefoot looked at Jacob coldly for a few seconds, and noticed a flash of panic in his eyes. "If you're not careful, this girl is going to die in your hands!"
"Please, save her!" Jacob didn't have time to explain everything and he wasn't even thinking clearly enough to form proper thoughts in his head. He humbled himself hoping that Mr. Barefoot would help him.
Mr. Barefoot sighed helplessly and said, "I must have been heavily indebted to you in my past life. If It weren't for me, the both of you would have been dead!"
He shook his head at Jacob and began to check Emily's pulse. As he was diagnosing, he gave instructions to Jacob, "Get her out of those wet clothes first, then bring a dry quilt. After that, boil some water."
Mr. Barefoot personally picked out some rare medicinal materials and asked Jacob to boil them in hot water to feed Emily. The rest of the herbs were to be boiled in the pot to give Emily a medicinal bath.
Meanwhile, Emily was still unconscious, oblivious to what was happening. She could only feel the pain surge up every now and then. Sometimes she felt cold, but most of the times she felt hot. The extreme pain made her curl up into fetal position and tremble violently.
She stayed in a comatose state for three days on end. With the help of Mr. Barefoot's guidance, Jacob took care of her for three days but Emily was still unconscious.
Jacob stayed at her bedside day and night, barely getting any rest or sleep. From time to time, he would listen over her mouth and nose for breathing sounds and try to feel her breath on his cheeks.
He finally felt the same panic Emily once had.
Each passing moment living in fear of losing her felt like torture for Jacob. Was there ever going to be an end to his suffering?
All he wanted was for her to live a healthy and happy life. Was that too much to ask for?
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