Chapter 32: Daddy, please don't leave Momo...

He Zhimo lay in his father's arms, sobbing breathlessly. He already had a headache and his entire body ached, and the thought of his father being so angry at him that he ignored him made him cry even harder, nearly collapsing.

But then, He Cong placed the back of his palm on the little one's scalding forehead.

He restrained himself, momentarily averting his gaze from the tiny feathers that had drifted across the seat. He gently pressed his palm against the little one's forehead, his voice softening as he soothed the nearly choking child. "Okay, Daddy gets it. Momo, take a deep breath first."

He Zhimo sobbed violently, biting his lip under his father's soothing reassurance. He obediently took a deep breath, and when his father told him to exhale gently, his shoulders trembled, and he obeyed.

After a while of this, He Zhimo finally managed to ease back from the brink of tears.

But his big eyes were already red and swollen, fluttering as he looked up. Seeing his father's indifferent face, his little hands couldn't help but hug his father's wrist where the beads were worn. His fingers tugged at the black Buddhist beads on it, and he cried softly, "Daddy, please don't leave Momo..."

He Cong let the little guy pull at his hand, and gently wiped the tears from the little cub's face with his other hand. He promised in a deep voice, "Daddy will never leave Momo", and hugged the little cub again, and continued to ask him, "Are you feeling uncomfortable anywhere?"

He Zhimo gasped again, "Head, I feel dizzy, Daddy."

"Let me pat your head."

He Cong said this, gently stroking the little guy's head with the back of his palm. Looking at his son's red face, the blue veins on his wrist were throbbing faintly again, but he did not show any emotional fluctuations in front of the child. He still asked in a steady voice, "Are you feeling uncomfortable anywhere else?"

He Zhimo had just cried loudly, and his frail little body was still experiencing a high fever. He had gradually lost some energy. He shook his eyelashes like a wilted little bird, buried himself in his father's arms listlessly, and said childishly, "Is there anything else that I can do to help me?" His voice was hoarse and small, "And the bones... the bones in Momo's back, they hurt so badly too..."

Hearing this, He Cong's gaze quickly shifted to He Zhimo's shoulders, which trembled slightly from the occasional throbbing. He reached up to touch them, but fearing to hurt the cub, he cautiously pulled back the side of the combat jacket it was wrapped around. He then saw clearly—

the cub's tiny, pitiful shoulder blades were reddened, the bones swollen and threatening to burst through the thin, tender skin.

He Cong's eyes fluttered, and he ordered the driver to drive faster.

The little creature's tiny hands tugged at the Buddhist beads on his wrists, mumbling a few words of pain, its head nodding slowly, and soon it fell back into He Cong's arms, drifting off into sleep.

He Cong held the cub with one hand, his cold gaze fixed on the tiny feathers that had fallen from He Zhimo's body as he cried so hard not long ago.

The tiny, fluffy feathers were identical to the ones he'd mistakenly thought had escaped He Zhimo's bed quilt.

That night, he'd even compared them to Fuying's belongings, suspecting it was Fuying who had returned to see their child. But in the end, everyone in Yanyuan thought he'd only dreamed of Fuying...

He Cong could only resume medication, trying to appear normal and avoid the absurd possibility that Fuying wasn't dead.

But now, the little one claimed to have contracted a strange disease that caused feathers to fall from his body, and had been so frightened by the condition that he'd run away from home...

Indeed, how could feathers fall from a person?

Even the driver sitting in the front tried to comfort him, "Sir, the young master must have had a fever and was confused, so he had some strange dream about feathers falling off his body. Don't worry too much."

He Cong said nothing. He slowly lowered his eyes and saw the little cub in his arms sleeping very restlessly despite the high fever. He rubbed his little face against his arm and whimpered a little in pain. Then, another soft little feather fell from He Zhimo's face.

He Cong picked up the feather with his fingers and stared at the outline of the feather, which was basically the same as the feather pendant that Fuying left for him. His eyes darkened.

The car finally arrived at Yanyuan.

Butler Chen had been waiting in the lake center area early with a team of doctors responsible for the young master's health. As soon as the car entered the lake center area, he took Doctor Lin and others there.

The car door opened and He Cong took his young son out. As soon as he returned to the room, he explained He Zhimo's current symptoms to Doctor Lin in detail.

When Dr. Lin first heard Mr. He mention the symptoms of "persistent high fever", "headache", and "swelling and pain in the back and shoulder blades", he was still asking his assistant to remember them, while opening the examination instrument that was pushed in advance.

When Mr. He finally said "there is a continuous loss of feathers on the body similar to the symptoms of birds", Dr. Lin paused in putting on the stethoscope, opened his mouth slightly, and almost wondered if he had misheard.

Then he looked up and saw He Cong taking the so-called feather that fell from Young Master He.

Dr. Lin maintained his professionalism and took the feather for an inspection.

His first reaction was that the feather root structure was so beautiful that it did not seem like something that could be grown by existing birds. It looked more like some kind of artwork designed by an artist to be placed in a museum.

Because of this, Dr. Lin found Mr. He's description even more absurd and unbelievable. However, Mr. He's assertive tone made him afraid to speak directly. He could only bite the bullet and say, "Okay, Mr. He, let me first examine the young master's specific physical condition."

He Cong said "Yes," and took back the small feather he had just given Dr. Lin. He stepped aside and stood on the other side of the bed, supervising Dr. Lin as he performed a series of physical examinations on the cub.

As the examination progressed, Dr. Lin's expression grew increasingly peculiar. He glanced at the young master lying in bed, feverish and comatose, then at the strange data jumping on the monitoring equipment.

"How is it?"

He Cong asked, his patience fading.

Dr. Lin straightened up and looked at He Cong with a complicated expression, his face full of doubt about his career. "Mr. He, the young master does have a persistent high fever. This may be related to the sudden changes in the bone structure of his back, but the specific cause..."

What on earth was this professional doctor, a university graduate, talking about?

What sudden changes in bone structure? What kind of bizarre bone structure changes could a living human cub like Young Master He suddenly undergo?

Doctor Lin was so confused that he picked up the test report he had just scanned and carefully screened it. The report information on it showed that there was indeed a strange mutation in the bones of Young Master He's back.

Looking up, he saw He Cong staring at him with narrowed eyes and an oppressive look. Doctor Lin hurriedly wiped the cold sweat from his forehead and cautiously suggested, "This is what I am doing, Mr. He. The most urgent thing is to reduce the young master's fever. Once the fever has completely subsided, I will bring someone to give him a more comprehensive examination. In addition, I will immediately take this test report to a meeting with Dean Gao and review the relevant literature to see if we can find the best solution for treatment..."

Finally, He Cong nodded his chin in agreement.

So Dr. Lin immediately arranged an intravenous drip for Young Master He. During this period, he only needed the medical team to keep a close watch on him, but He Cong did not leave. He stayed by Young Master He's bedside the whole time. Later, when the young master's fever subsided and he was sweating, He Cong personally changed the child's clothes and wiped his face and hands.

By the afternoon, Master He's high fever had finally subsided, and he clung to his father's shoulders again, his little hands tightly around his father's neck, and in his dream he murmured with a sob, "Mom, I want Mom..."

The clothes on He Cong's shoulders were soon soaked by the little guy's tears. The little guy cried for a while, and when he opened his eyes half asleep and half awake, he saw his father with a gloomy face, wiping tears from his little face.

He Zhimo was still dizzy, hugging his father's neck, looking at his father's indifferent face with tears in his eyes for a long time, and sighed weakly, "Dad, what will you do if the nest dies?"