“WOC, you actually managed to finish the food Zuo Qiuli made?”
Outside the house, Luozhilan was bent over, vomiting uncontrollably. Limuqun, who had appeared out of nowhere, couldn’t help but give her a big thumbs up.
“That spiciness is truly epic.”
“Tissues, tissues!”
Just as Luozhilan felt the symptoms ease a little, she barely managed to lift her head and yell when another wave of acidic liquid surged up from her stomach, mixed with undigested congee.
“Urgh—”
She had no choice but to lower her head and keep vomiting.
Limuqun gently patted her back to help relieve her discomfort, clicking his tongue in amazement.
“Incredible, even a Magical Practitioner’s body can’t handle it.”
“Zuo Qiuli, I admit you are the true God of Food!”
After vomiting for what felt like ages—probably until there was nothing left in her stomach—Luozhilan finally stood up, her face as pale as paper.
But just then, a gentle breeze swept by, and her body suddenly swayed. Like a puppet with its strings cut, she toppled backwards.
“Hey, hey, hey, don’t scare me like this.”
Limuqun’s reflexes kicked in. With a swift step, he caught her in his arms and gently shook her face, but that lovely, bloodless face gave no response. Her eyes rolled back, and she began foaming at the mouth nonstop.
“Oh no, oh no, what’s with all this foaming—Zuo Qiuli, get out here and take a look!”
He shouted, but there was no response from inside the house.
Only then did Limuqun remember that Zuo Qiuli had long since stormed out, embarrassed and furious after her cooking fiasco, blaming Limuqun for buying the wrong ingredients, and slammed the door as she left to get groceries herself.
You really know how to pick your timing!
He mentally complained about Zuo Qiuli, then quickly pressed hard on Luozhilan’s philtrum.
But this life-saving trick, passed down among Mortals, didn’t seem to have much effect this time. The foam at the corner of Luozhilan’s mouth only increased, and now her body started to convulse uncontrollably.
Is WOC really this serious?
Now Limuqun was truly panicking.
If it were under normal circumstances, it’d be nothing more than a matter of using some Spiritual Power.
But here in this memory world, he was just a Divided Soul.
His strength was barely above that of a robust young man—no way he could use any Spiritual Power or magic.
“Zuo Qiuli!” he called out urgently in his mind, “If you don’t get back here, Luozhilan’s going to die right here!”
“What’s going on?” Zuo Qiuli’s bewildered voice sounded in his head.
“What else—your delicious cuisine did this! Hurry! Luozhilan really can’t hold on. We’ve been working so long for a clue, don’t let it all be for nothing!”
“I’m flying back now! Hold on, do whatever you can to keep her alive!”
“Do whatever I can? What the hell can I do?”
Limuqun nearly jumped in frustration, but Zuo Qiuli’s voice had already cut off.
Damn it, Zuo Qiuli! Always making things difficult for me!
He was flustered, at a complete loss. In front of him, Luozhilan’s convulsions grew even worse. Her breathing became intermittent, stopping and starting.
No, no, calm down, Limuqun. Think. Think, what can you do?
He reached out, wiping the foam from Luozhilan’s lips to prevent it from blocking her airway, all the while trying desperately to figure out how to keep her alive until Zuo Qiuli returned.
A physician? No time.
Spiritual Power? Can’t use it.
Help? No one around.
Come on, Limuqun, stop letting your Senior Cultivator thinking box you in!
In the middle of this mental storm, suddenly, seven big words flashed through his mind.
Heimlich Maneuver!
Yes, that’s it! I remember, I was trained for this!
The memories flooded in. The bitter experience of his company forcing him to attend a weekend safety training session replayed as if it had happened yesterday.
The Heimlich Maneuver—a first-aid technique for removing airway obstructions. Isn’t this the perfect situation?
Without hesitation, Limuqun did as he remembered: slipping his arms under Luozhilan’s armpits, he hugged her limp body close and lifted her up.
Next, he bent slightly, letting Luozhilan lean forward, then clenched his hands into fists and wrapped them around her slender waist, pressing firmly against her navel.
“Whew—”
He took a deep breath, mustered all his strength, and pressed hard into Luozhilan’s abdomen.
Up and down, up and down—Luozhilan’s body jerked rhythmically with the force of Limuqun’s hands.
And Limuqun, desperate to save her, was giving it his all. Not only did he have to hunch over, his hips also had to move with the rhythm, back and forth, back and forth.
“Uurgh—”
With a violent retch, a huge, undigested, indescribable lump of various foods clumped together was ejected straight out of Luozhilan’s mouth.
“Huff, huff, huff.”
Finally, the convulsions stopped. Luozhilan lay weakly in Limuqun’s arms, gasping for air.
“You’re finally awake.”
Drenched in sweat, Limuqun finally stopped, gulping in breaths, unable to stop himself from mentally complaining:
Who the hell invented this first aid technique? It’s so exhausting.
Not just exhausting—damn it, it’s… it’s…
“Put, put me down, you…”
Luozhilan’s weak voice sounded, but despite her feebleness, there was a hint of shyness to it.
Limuqun blinked, suddenly realizing why she was embarrassed.
“Ahem, accidental, purely accidental! You have to know I meant well.” Limuqun’s face flushed red, and he awkwardly tried to let go, but as soon as he loosened his hold, Luozhilan nearly collapsed to the ground.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa.”
He quickly held her tight again.
“I… I don’t have any strength left.”
Lying in Limuqun’s arms, feeling the scorching heat radiating from her lower belly—even through her clothes, her skin burned—Luozhilan’s lovely face turned a rosy red.
“I understand, I understand.”
Limuqun was indescribably awkward, cursing his own lack of willpower as he stretched out his arms and swept Luozhilan up in a bridal carry.
“I’ll carry you to bed so you can rest.”
For some reason, as Limuqun carried Luozhilan in his arms, his walking became rather strange.
A trip that should have taken less than a minute took him five, and he was still only halfway there.
But Luozhilan didn’t seem in any hurry. She just nestled her head obediently into Limuqun’s chest.
The uniquely male scent, mixed with sweat, filled her sensitive nose.
She’d thought she would hate that smell, but now all she felt was warmth and safety.
She burrowed in deeper. That broad chest seemed able to silently bear everything, forever shielding her from the storm.
Is this what they call a man’s steadiness?
Her gaze dropped, eyes swirling with complex emotions, lost in thought.
As for Limuqun, holding Luozhilan in his arms, he had no idea what she was thinking.
All he felt was his blood surging.
Thanks to Zuo Qiuli’s earlier teasing, the Second Empire’s emperor was already standing at attention, now swelling even further, nearly about to seize command from the First Empire’s general.
Women, you’re going to ruin my cultivation heart!
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