He was a disabled military officer who doted on his research work in the Northwest.

Dr. Chen arrived ten minutes later.

Carrying a medicine kit, he went straight to the bedside as soon as he entered the room.

Listen to the patient's heart, take their temperature, turn their eyelids over, and take their pulse.

"Thirty-nine and four-tenths of a degree." He frowned. "Acute high fever, accompanied by obvious signs of exhaustion. The lymph nodes are not swollen, which doesn't resemble an infection; it's more like a collapse of the immune system."

He looked up at Mu Qinghan: "Has she not been getting enough rest lately?"

Mu Qinghan didn't speak, but glanced at him. He then realized he had asked a rather silly question, scratched his head, and said, "Uh... she must not have rested well. Ever since the accident at the machinery factory, she's been working through the night on rescue efforts, then had to attend classes, and then help out at the hospital. For more than ten days in a row, she's only eighteen years old, her body definitely can't take it."

"Don't worry, she collapsed from exhaustion while helping out at the military hospital. We will definitely take full responsibility."

Mu Qinghan didn't respond to him. "Her vegetable garden is ruined. I just came back and saw her collapsed in the garden."

Doctor Chen was taken aback: "A vegetable garden?"

"In the backyard," Mu Qinghan said in a deep voice.

Dr. Chen's expression turned serious.

He knew, of course, what that vegetable garden meant to Shen Tang. The life-saving medicines were extracted from the plants grown there. It was her hard work and her pride.

"No wonder," Dr. Chen sighed. "His body was already exhausted, and the accident in the vegetable garden was the final straw. A double blow, and he collapsed."

"Qinghan, don't worry," he said, taking a fever-reducing injection from his medicine box. "Bring down the fever first. Give him an injection of Analgin, then two days of IV fluids."

After giving Shen Tang the injection, he packed up his medical kit, stood up, and lowered his voice:

"She's feeling cold. The fever will come down easily. But this is more of a psychological issue than a physical one. You need to try to comfort her about the ruined vegetable garden."

"I know."

Doctor Chen patted him on the shoulder: "Okay. I'll come see her again tomorrow. You can come tonight—"

"I'll stay here."

Dr. Chen smiled, said nothing more, and turned to leave.

……

That night, Mu Qinghan barely slept a wink.

He changed the cool towel on her forehead every half hour. He took her temperature every hour. When her fever reached its highest point, it was 39.8 degrees Celsius. He added more blankets and placed a hot water bottle near her feet.

At two in the morning, she was delirious with fever.

"...The vegetables...can't die..."

Mu Qinghan didn't know what a space or a spiritual spring was. But he knew she was sad.

He leaned down and gently pressed his forehead against hers.

"It's okay." His voice was low, as if he were comforting a child. "Everything will be alright. I'm here."

I don't know if she heard me or not.

But her brows relaxed a little, and her breathing became more even.

Mu Qinghan straightened up and looked at her peaceful sleeping face.

The moonlight shone in through the window, casting a faint silvery glow on her pale face.

He reached out and carefully tucked the sweaty stray hairs from her forehead behind her ear.

There was only one thought in my mind:

She is always taking care of others.

Starting today, it's my turn.

……

the next day.

Shen Tang's fever had subsided somewhat, to 38.5 degrees Celsius. She was still listless, but at least she was conscious.

The first thing she did upon waking was to get up.

"Lie down."

Mu Qinghan's voice came from beside the bed.

Shen Tang turned her head and saw him sitting in a chair, his military jacket draped over the back of the chair, his shirt collar slightly open, and a light stubble of bluish hair on his chin. There were also noticeable dark circles under his eyes.

It's obvious he didn't sleep all night.

"You—" Shen Tang's voice was so hoarse that she could barely speak.

Mu Qinghan picked up the warm water glass from the bedside table and brought it to her lips.

"Drink some water first."

Shen Tang took a few sips. The warm water flowed over her parched throat, and after the stinging sensation came a feeling of comfort.

"You...sat here all night?" Her voice was still hoarse.

Mu Qinghan didn't answer the question. She simply put the water glass back and touched her forehead again.

"It's still hot," he said. "Don't get up."

My vegetable garden—

"I know," Mu Qinghan interrupted her, his voice calm, "Focus on getting better. We can talk about other things later."

Shen Tang opened her mouth, as if she wanted to say something.

Mu Qinghan looked down at her, his gaze filled with a seriousness she had never seen before.

"Shen Tang," he said, "your only task now is to lie down. You don't need to worry about anything else—the vegetable garden, the hospital, the school."

"But--"

"Health is the foundation of everything, so listen to me."

Shen Tang looked into his eyes.

Those eyes held none of the usual indifference and aloofness, nor any mockery or awkwardness. Only pure determination.

"...Okay." Her voice was muffled as she shrank back under the covers.

Mu Qinghan watched as she obediently lay down, and only then did his tense shoulders relax slightly.

He stood up: "I'll go heat up the porridge. You close your eyes and rest."

The sound of the cane tapping the ground slowly faded into the distance.

Shen Tang lay in bed, staring at the ceiling.

The vegetable garden was destroyed.

The space is wasted.

The sacred spring has dried up.

But the promise I made to my teacher is still hanging in the balance.

You can't say a single word of these things to him.

The secret of the space belongs to her alone.

She has to shoulder it all alone.

She closed her eyes; her eyes were still a little hot, but she didn't cry.

Because he would worry if I cried.

……

Mu Qinghan put the porridge on the stove to keep it warm, then returned to the main room and sat down.

Only after confirming that her fever had subsided, she was awake, and she was willing to lie still did he turn his attention back to the matter that had been weighing on his mind.

Vegetable garden.

Last night, when he carried her back to the east wing, the sour, rotten smell he caught in the backyard was still pungent in his nostrils.

He picked up the phone from the table and dialed an internal line.

"Xiao Li, come here."

Two minutes later, Xiao Li pushed the door open and came in.

"Go to the backyard and collect several soil samples, three from the surface and three from the deeper layers. Seal them in clean glass bottles and send them to Dr. Chen for testing."

Xiao Li was taken aback: "Tests? Tests for what?"

"Let's see what things are in the soil that shouldn't be there." Mu Qinghan's tone wasn't harsh, but Xiao Li, who had followed him for so long, could sense the coldness beneath that calm demeanor.

"Yes." Xiao Li turned and left.

Half an hour later, the soil sample was delivered to Dr. Chen.

The test results came out that afternoon, and Dr. Chen personally delivered them.

"Large amounts of milk protein degradation products, lactic acid bacteria metabolites, and butyric acid." Dr. Chen handed the lab report to Mu Qinghan. "It's milk. Pure milk. And not just once; judging from the degree of spoilage and the depth of penetration, it's been going on for at least four to five days. Every day."

Mu Qinghan took the test report and her eyes fell on the rows of data.

There was a few seconds of silence.

"It wasn't an accident," he said.

"No," Dr. Chen said seriously. "Once or twice could be considered an accidental spill. But four or five consecutive days, with a fixed amount every day, that's intentional."

Mu Qinghan placed the test results on the table and tapped the surface lightly with her fingers.

"Xiao Li."

"arrive."

"Go to the security office and find Old Zhou."