NovelStartChapter 1433: Monica Helps him Apply Medicine
"Careful!" Tristan steadied her by the arm. Monica turned her gaze towards him. "I'm fine, really, it doesn't hurt. Don't worry about
me." His lips curled into a gentle smile, his voice and eyes equally tender.
She furrowed her brows in concern and quickly pulled her hand away. "Oh, con!" She started rummaging for a first aid kit, her
vision blurred with worry.
She was so worried, she felt like crying. In such establishments like inns and guesthouses, there should be emergency medical kits
in each room, right?
Watching her frantic search for the first aid kit, Tristan didn't feel any pain. His gentle gaze rested on her back. He relished this
feeling of being the object of worry and care.
"Found it! Finally!" Monica exclaimed, pulling out a medical kit from a drawer under the TV cabinet. She hurriedly brought it over to
the coffee table.
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She knelt down in front of the couch, opening the kit while urging, "Csit down, why are you still standing? I'll stop the bleeding
first, quickly take off your shirt!"
With a slight purse of his lips, Tristan sat down, allowing himself to enjoy being taken care of. But, could she handle it?
"Hurry up and take off your shirt! You're still bleeding!" Monica was very worried about his injury, she quickly glanced at him, "If it's
severe, we may heed to ask Dr. Watson for stitches."
"Do you think he is in the mood to stitchup right now?"
"Regardless, he's a doctor. There's no hospital around here, just a few drugstores. We can't just watch you bleed to death, can we?"
Monica took out a hemostatic and cotton.
Tristan undid his buttons, enduring the awkwardness, and removed his blood-stained shirt. He sat sideways, exposing his back to
her.
Monica picked up the blood-soaked cotton. Even from his back view alone, his perfectly sculpted figure was evident.
She was taken aback. This figure... well-toned and fair, muscular and defined, it was too perfect.
Silence filled the room.
Seeing that she wasn't moving, Tristan realized she was lost in thought. Women are indeed foolish when it comes to such things.
He looked at her and asked deliberately, "What's wrong? Is my injury not serious enough? Has it healed on its own?"
"No, no, no!" Monica snapped back to reality, kneeling on the couch, she gently wiped away the blood, "How could it have healed?
It's still seeping blood, but it's not very deep."
The wound seemed to be about three centimeters wide.
Monica discarded the blood-soaked cotton and took a photo of the wound with her phone to show him, "It's not very deep, but we
need to disinfect it to avoid infection."
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Tristan took the phone, enlarged the photo and looked at it. "Hmm." He didn't treat this minor injury seriously.
Monica began to staunch the bleeding. Her technique was practiced, which surprised Tristan, "Have you studied medicine?"
"No." She replied while continuing to staunch the bleeding, "The innkeeper really knows his stuff. This ointment is the best for
stopping bleeding. After disinfecting the wound, sprinkling son will stop the bleeding quickly."
Tristan put down his phone and asked in confusion, "If you haven't studied medicine, how do you know all this?"
"When you're on your own, you encounter things, and bumps and scrapes are inevitable. It's basic survival."
Tristan fell silent, he felt a pang of sympathy for her. She's usually alone?
Looking at her carefree demeanor, she must have suffered a lot, right?
On the surface, she was with her mother, but her mother probably hasn't fulfilled her responsibilities as a mother since she has a
big company to run.
Monica finished applying the hemostatic, she couldn't help but lean in close to his wound and gently blow on it to help ease his
pain.
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