Li Younan picked up the walkie-talkie, his voice calm: "Stay calm, Old Zhang. The tire pressure feels a bit unstable, check it out."
It's a reasonable excuse, but it can only last for a while.
Joking aside, Old Zhang's poisoning won't take long, and if he starts hallucinating and drives fast...
Sure enough, barely half an hour after departure, Old Zhang's voice changed on the walkie-talkie, not angry anymore, but a breathless struggle amidst pain and fragmented sentences: "... Stop, stop! I... I feel... can't go on..."
The timing was right.
Li Younan immediately called out on the channel: "Everyone stop! Old Zhang is not doing well!"
The convoy quickly pulled over.
Li Younan jumped out of the car and walked swiftly towards Old Zhang's car.
He had already pushed open the car door, his face pale, forehead drenched in cold sweat, clutching his stomach, curled up in the driver's seat, gasping, his eyes filled with fear and disbelief.
