Struggling to muster the strength to get out of bed, Chen Zhou felt a bit dizzy, unsure whether it was due to a cold or if the alcohol hadn't worn off.
The oil lamp by the bed was more than half consumed, casting dim light.
Still feeling cold, he wrapped himself in a seal skin, shuffled in his shoes, and slowly went to the platform to relieve himself.
Lowering his head slightly to watch the dark yellow liquid, Chen Zhou murmured.
"Maybe it's the high fever..."
Having dealt with his physical need, he checked the firewood in the kitchen on his way back.
The wood blocks had long burned out, leaving only a few glowingly embers, faintly glowing.
The large iron kettle, with its lid on, had its once-boiling morning water now turned lukewarm.
His mouth dry and bitter, he scooped a large cup of warm water and drank it down. Returning to the bedroom, Chen Zhou stuck out his tongue and checked in the mirror.
