Under Ian’s care, which relied entirely on experience rather than skill, Little White Dog’s condition gradually stabilized.
Its breathing became steady and deep, no longer twitching in pain.
Only the bump on its forehead remained prominent, keeping it drowsy and asleep most of the time.
After some unknown time, Little White Dog’s long eyelashes fluttered, and it slowly opened its eyes.
Its golden vertical pupils first focused blankly.
A few seconds later, Little White Dog saw Ian, who was gently wiping the fur around its mouth with a clean leaf dipped in clean water.
When it realized it was Ian, Little White Dog let out a wary and displeased growl from its throat, trying to move its head away from Ian’s hand, but its body was still too weak to move.
Ian didn’t mind; he thought Little White Dog just didn’t like water.
He said nothing, withdrew his hand, and put the leaf aside.
Then, Ian picked up the small bowl of sweet berry pulp that had been prepared earlier, scooped up a little with a wooden chip, and brought it to Little White Dog’s mouth.
Little White Dog’s nose twitched, catching the sweet scent, but its eyes remained resistant.
It kept its mouth tightly shut and even turned its head away, clearly expressing a ‘dislike’ attitude.
Ian’s hand holding the wooden chip hovered in the air for a few seconds, and his brow furrowed.
After trying a few more times with the same result of rejection, Ian silently put down the bowl, stood up, and walked to the shelter entrance, saying to Amivy, who was outside trying to process ingredients with crude tools:
“Highness, it’s awake. It won’t eat. You try.”
Amivy quickly put down her things and ran inside.
Seeing Little White Dog with its eyes open, she pounced over joyfully:
“Xiao Bai! You’re awake! Great! I was so worried!”
She carefully avoided the wound on its head and gently stroked its back.
When Little White Dog saw Amivy, its eyes immediately softened.
Its ears twitched slightly, and it even tried to nuzzle her palm with its nose, letting out tiny, pleading whimpers from its throat.
“Come, eat something. Only by eating will you recover quickly.”
Amivy took the fruit pulp Ian handed her, scooped up a spoonful imitating Ian, and brought it to Little White Dog’s mouth.
This time, Little White Dog only hesitated for a moment, then stuck out its small tongue and obediently licked up the fruit pulp clean.
After finishing, it looked at Amivy with pleading eyes, as if wanting more.
“Good dog, good dog!”
Amivy was overjoyed and fed it several more spoonfuls, only stopping the ‘overflowing maternal love’ feeding when Little White Dog couldn’t eat anymore.
However, facts proved that professional matters require professional people.
Amivy had no experience in caring for injuries and illnesses.
After feeding, she forgot to give Little White Dog enough clean water, and at night she didn’t pay much attention to keeping it warm.
Adding to that were Little White Dog’s weakness and having fallen into the water and other factors.
The next day, when the familiar faint light filled the sky again, the first thing Amivy did upon waking was to check on Little White Dog.
She found it curled up in the leaf blanket, body trembling slightly, its previously moist nose now dry and hot.
She reached out and touched its forehead—it was burning!
“Kevin! Kevin! Little White has a fever! It’s so hot!”
Amivy panicked and called out to the outside, at a complete loss.
Ian was preparing food for the new day.
Hearing this, he unhurriedly came over to Little White Dog.
He reached out to feel Little White Dog’s forehead and behind its ears, then looked at its listless appearance and slightly labored breathing, and furrowed his brow.
“It’s just a fever. No big deal.”
Then Ian said to the panicked Amivy.
“Highness, go to the water pool. Along the east bank, find a plant with sawtooth leaves and small blue flowers, and also the moss on the wet stones by the water. Gather plenty and bring them back.”
“Okay! I’ll go right away!”
Amivy, who rarely fell ill and even when sick would quickly ‘get better on her own’, heard Ian’s words as if grasping a lifeline, and without a word rushed out of the shelter.
Listening to Amivy’s footsteps fading away, Ian turned around and walked to a corner of the shelter, pulling out a small packet carefully wrapped in clean broad leaves.
Opening the leaves, inside was a dark green medicinal powder that had already been ground into fine powder and mixed evenly, emitting a cool, slightly bitter scent.
This was precisely the fever-reducing and anti-inflammatory powder that he had secretly gotten up last night after Amivy had fallen asleep, and prepared overnight based on his experience and the herbs he had collected earlier.
In fact, when he saw Amivy’s careless care style, he had anticipated that Little White Dog might develop a fever today.
He poured out an appropriate amount of powder and mixed it with a little clean water into a paste.
Then he carried the paste back to Little White Dog.
Although Little White Dog was a bit delirious from the fever, upon smelling Ian’s approach, it still stared at him with resistant golden eyes, let out feeble warning growls from its throat, and tried to shrink back.
Ian ignored its resistance, and with one hand steady yet gentle, he held its head in place, and with the other hand carrying the medicinal paste, he prepared to put it in its mouth.
Whine—!
Little White Dog suddenly struggled, and despite its weakness, it burst out with considerable strength.
It turned its head sharply, not only dodging the medicinal paste but also biting down on Ian’s wrist that was trying to hold it!
Its sharp little teeth instantly pierced the skin, and bright red beads of blood oozed out.
Ian didn’t even frown; after all, he had experienced this many times before.
He just calmly glanced at the wound on his wrist and Little White Dog’s eyes full of hostility and fear, then took advantage of the dog’s open mouth to pour the medicinal liquid down its throat.
Having something foreign forced into its throat, Little White Dog instinctively tried to spit it out, which gave Ian the chance to pull his hand free from the dog’s mouth.
After pulling free, Ian was quick; he turned his hand and grasped Little White Dog’s muzzle.
Unable to open its mouth, Little White Dog had no choice but to swallow the medicinal paste.
After swallowing, Little White Dog gagged a few times in discomfort, and its golden eyes glazed over with a layer of aggrieved moisture, but its muzzle was firmly held by Ian, unable to move.
After administering the medicine, Ian immediately rinsed his wrist wound with clean water, casually bandaged it with a cloth strip, then brought clean water and fed it bit by bit to Little White Dog, who was still whimpering in grievance.
But this time, Little White Dog did not resist as before.
Perhaps it was because the medicinal paste was too foul-tasting, or perhaps because of Ian’s forceful methods.
It began to lick the clean water Ian offered to its mouth in small sips.
The hostility and resistance in its eyes quietly faded a little, replaced by a kind of complex bewilderment.
The medicine gradually took effect.
After a while, the scorching heat on Little White Dog’s body began to subside, and its breathing became much calmer.
When Ian came over again with the prepared medicinal paste, although it still turned its head a little reluctantly, it ultimately did not struggle or try to attack again.
It just closed its eyes and let Ian pour the bitter paste into its mouth again, then obediently drank the clean water that followed.
Little White Dog’s attitude changed so quickly that Ian was very surprised.
“Oh, not bad. I thought you would be like those two stubborn ‘Female Leads’ and show me who’s boss for a month or so before obediently listening…”
“It seems this third Correction Mission can be a little simpler…”