Chapter 1430: Tristan Gets Hurt


    Chapter 1430: Tristan Gets Hurt


    "Brother!"


    "Brother! Have youe up with a good name for your baby yet?"


    "Brother! How about I give the baby a name? I''ve been writing novels for so many years, and I''m really


    good at naming characters! Is your wife expecting a boy or a girl?"


    "..."


    In the inn.


    Monica took a hot shower, changed into clean clothes, and came out of the bathroom. She smelled the


    aroma of ginger soup.


    Tristan brought a steaming bowl of soup to her. "Here, drink this while it''s hot. I borrowed the


    innkeeper''s pot to make it. The temperature should be just right and not too hot."


    The girl looked at Tristan,pletely soaked, with water droplets dripping from his hair, and felt a pang


    of guilt.


    Had he gone to make ginger soup without even wiping his hair dry?


    Tristan''s eyebrows slightly furrowed as he carefully observed her.


    Monica stared back at him, her lips pursed. Overwhelmed with emotion, the usually carefree girl felt an


    urge to cry.


    Tristan had saved her life, and she owed him a great debt.


    The man held the bowl, facing her tearful gaze. "What''s wrong?" he worried. "Is something hurting


    you?"


    The girl sniffed. "No." She quickly took the bowl from his hands. "You should go take a shower so you


    don''t catch a cold." She cared about him too.


    "Alright." Tristan looked at her and, seeing no serious issues, turned to enter the bathroom.


    As she watched his retreating figure, Monica could not even say thank you. Somehow, she felt


    particrly sad.


    He had jumped from such a high ce without hesitation...


    And it was on such a cold day, into such cold river water.


    Holding the warm bowl of ginger soup, she felt its weight as she sat down on the sofa.


    The room was already heated, and she felt warm after her shower. She had dried her hair halfway


    beforeing out.


    After taking a few sips of ginger soup, which was somewhat pungent and full of ginger, Monica found it


    sweeter than honey.


    Soon, the sound of running water came from the bathroom.


    Monica nced over and thought back to the moment she was pushed into the river. It was an


    unprecedented fear, even more terrifying than when she encountered andslide. She genuinely


    thought she would die...


    ire had been pushed down and still hadn''t been found.


    The second Tristan swam to her and embraced her, she felt as if she were dreaming.


    He confidently swam with her towards the river''s surface. In the seconds before she lost


    consciousness, she leaned against him and felt a sense of security she had never experienced before.


    She trusted him so much; she believed he could give her hope for survival.


    In the steam-filled bathroom.


    Tristan removed his coat and was about to take off his shirt when he felt a pulling pain in his shoulder.


    He let out a muffled groan, his eyebrows slightly furrowed. Had he been injured?


    The pain reminded him that he had indeed been hurt.


    Tristan turned to look at himself in the mirror, and saw that his blood had likely stuck to his clothes and


    formed a scab.


    He stood under the shower with his shirt still on; the hot water seeped through the thin fabric and onto


    the wound. The pain was intense, and he gritted his teeth to bear it.


    After his shirt was soaked, he tried to remove it again...


    He recalled the moment he jumped into the river and was scraped by a hidden step underwater. The


    pain wasn''t severe at the time.


    Content bel0ngs to N?vel(D)r/a/ma.Org.


    His heart tightened. Thankfully, Monica hadn''t hit her head on that step! Otherwise, the consequences


    would have been unthinkable.


    At this thought, Tristan felt grateful for the kindness of the heavens. At the same time, he hated Daphne


    to the core!


    He also wondered how Rowan was doing.


    Bare-chested, Tristan stood under the shower, the bathroom filled with white steam. The water


    cascaded over his wheat-colored skin, flowing down his neck in glistening rivulets.


    At times, he closed his eyes in contemtion; other times, he opened them, revealing eyes as dark as


    ink.


    Tristan was a person who appeared cold on the outside but was warm on the inside. Due to hisck of


    security growing up, he was always able to provide others with a sense of safety.


    For those he cared about, he would do everything within his power to protect them, even at the risk of


    his own life.