The recent mess with the tour group had left him swamped, buried in all sorts of tedious tasks every day. From arranging tourist accommodations and dietary needs to coordinating and organizing activities, he couldn't afford to slack off in the slightest.
So now, at the slightest sign of trouble, his conditioned reflex was to worry that something had gone wrong with the tourists again.
David shook his head, his expression growing more anxious. "Khilla, it's not the tourists. It's Nash. I just got a call from Jie Luo. He said Nash's father was injured by a moose that appeared out of nowhere while he was hunting in the forest. He's unconscious now."
What?
Feng Mountain shot to his feet. The movement was so abrupt that Coca-Cola, who had been lounging comfortably in his arms, sensed his unease and quickly jumped to the floor, hiding in a corner.
"Why didn't Roger call me? When did this happen?" Feng Mountain's voice rose a few notches unconsciously, his brows knitting tightly.
