“What about you?” Monica turned her head, blinking her beautiful eyes and asked curiously, “What were you thinking at your most fearful moment?”RêAdt??St chapters at Novel(D)ra/ma.Org Only


    About work?


    About his father? Or his sister?


    Tristan leaned back in his chair, his gaze drawn to the clouds in the sky, split by sunlight. At that moment, he seemed to feel the radiance of Buddha, and the cloud was truly stunning.


    His lips parted slightly, “Actually, I was quite calm inside because I’ve always believed that life and death are predestined. However,” he turned his eyes and said firmly, “I don’t want to take you with me.”


    “…” She met his gaze, feeling his slightly hoarse but clear voice, and there was a hint ofplexity in his eyes.


    He sincerely told her, “If I hadn’t called you, you wouldn’t have been in a desperate situation, right?”


    “The sun is out, where’s the desperation?” Monica smiled warmly, as if tofort him, “You shouldn’t feel guilty anymore; dying together with you wouldn’t be lonely!”


    Seeing her smile, he was happy, and hearing her words, he was even happier.


    “Tristan, do you fear death?”


    “Yes,” he replied without thinking, “I believe everyone in this world fears death unless they are depressed and in extreme pain.”


    It was great that he didn’t mention her confession; maybe he could treat it as a feverish whim!


    He was so mature and steady that he probably wouldn’t hold it against her, and maybe he didn’t even take it to heart.


    The sound of a helicopter hovering overhead drew their attention; Kevin’s rescue team had arrived.


    In the ancient town separated by a mountain,


    Rowan and ire walked down the steps and arrived at the mossy green ancient bridge. The bridge was long, resembling the Great Wall in architecture, with stone railings reaching only to the waist. Standing on the bridge, one could overlook the beauty of the entire ancient town.


    The alleys, the winding river, the towers rich in historical charm, and the stilted houses lined up along the riverbank.


    “I’m going to the restroom; wait for me?” Rowan said to the girl beside him.


    “Okay!”


    Rowan walked toward the nearby public restroom. He was gentle and considerate, seemingly without a temper, and kind to everyone around him.


    A minuteter, when his figure disappeared, Daphne Wells stepped up to thest step, standing silently behind ire like a ghost.


    Daphne Wells had straight long hair, and her lifeless eyes revealed a hint of coldness as she stared at the back of ire’s head.


    ire, unaware of the danger approaching, took out her phone to take a photo of the stilted houses on the opposite bank!


    With all her strength, Daphne Wells lifted ire by her waist and pushed her off the bridge before she could react!


    “Ahh!” A terrified scream rang out, followed by a ssh!


    When Rowan heard the sound and came out, there was no sign of ire on the empty winding path, but the scream sounded like her voice.


    “ire?! ire!”


    Rowan ran forward, searching and calling her name!


    As he ran, he also used his phone to call her, but it showed that her phone was turned off.


    “ire! ire, where are you?” Rowan panicked, having a vague sense of foreboding because she had left with a fully charged phone; it couldn’t have been turned off intentionally or automatically.


    “ire!!”


    Rowan leaned on the railing and looked down at the calm river; not far away was a fishing boat, incredibly beautiful.


    “ire! Where are you?” He turned and ran down the steps, wondering if she had left on purpose? To give him a surprise? Or a prank?


    Twenty minutester-


    The helicopter brought Tristan and Monica to the entrance of the ancient town. They walked towards the gate and crossed the bridge; no vehicles were allowed inside.


    Tristan nced at her, “Shall we go?” He carried her suitcase; they had already booked a guesthouse and contacted the owner to pick them up.


    “Are you Mr. Norwell?”


    “Yes.”


    “Please follow me, give me your suitcase.” The guesthouse owner seemed like an artistic person, a big man with long hair tied in a low ponytail, yet not effeminate at all.


    After passing through the gate and the ancient bridge, they saw several police cars parked inside, and many officers were questioning pedestrians and taking notes.


    “What happened?” Tristan asked.


    “A girl disappeared in broad daylight.” The guesthouse owner reminded them, “You two should also be careful; don’t let the girls act alone.”