When He Ao woke up again, he found himself lying on a stretcher bed, surrounded by tent fabric fluttering in the breeze.
This was his own tent.
He pulled back the small curtain by the tent, and a blinding brilliance engulfed his eyes for a moment.
Looking at the sun, it should have been one or two in the afternoon now.
As an experienced hunter, learning to tell the approximate time by the sunlight and the position of the sun was a basic skill.
He was still wearing the tattered clothes from yesterday. Among the more than a hundred people in the camp, only one or two knew a bit about treating colds and fevers.
So they didn't dare to touch He Ao's wounds, fearing they might cause some accidents.
In fact, there used to be several doctors capable of performing surgery in the camp, but they were all scattered during the Bitter Monkey attack.
In such dangerous wilderness, it was uncertain if they could survive.
He Ao sat up from the bed and touched the wound.