The Patriarch's Blessing

The hired caregiver rose from her stool the moment they stepped inside the sterile room. "Mr. Cade. You are here. Please, have a seat," she greeted respectfully, dragging a chair over to the edge of the hospital bed for them.

Tristan guided Hazel over, maintaining a firm grip on her hand. The noise of their arrival stirred the frail figure lying on the mattress. Arthur slowly turned his head. At the sudden sight of Hazel’s face, the old man’s frail body began to tremble against the white sheets. His pupils dilated rapidly, and the heart rate monitor beside him erupted into a frantic beeping that pierced the quiet room.

"Grandpa!" Tristan pulled Hazel to the side, his expression tight with concern as the caregiver instantly hit the emergency call button.

A rush of medical staff flooded the room, brushing past them. Hazel stood frozen, watching in terrifying suspense as the doctors checked the bedridden man. The chaotic moments stretched endlessly until the head doctor finally stepped back and offered a relieved smile. "Mr. Langdon is fine," the doctor concluded, adjusting his stethoscope. "It seems the old man was simply overjoyed and overstimulated by seeing his grandson's beautiful new wife."

Breathing heavily through his oxygen mask, Arthur shifted his gaze back to them. He opened his mouth, croaking hoarsely, "M-marriage... license..."

Tristan reached into his breast pocket and produced the two bright red certificates. He leaned over, showing them to the old man with a proud grin. "Look, Grandpa. I didn't lie to you."

Staring intently at the documents, Arthur struggled to speak. His voice was weak but carried a commanding weight. "You... you need to treat... Hazel well. You cannot bully her, otherwise... I won't rest in peace."

Tristan met his grandfather's gaze without hesitation. He promised with a serious tone, "I know, Grandpa. I will definitely treat Hazel well."

Satisfied, the old man shifted his eyes toward Hazel and added weakly, "I... I want to get better soon... because I still want... to play Go with Hazel..."

Hazel’s eyes widened in sheer surprise. Her mind raced. How could this bedridden old man possibly know that she secretly played the ancient board game? She had never mentioned it to anyone in Tristan's family, and Tristan himself didn't even know.

"Alright, Grandpa. Have a good rest," Tristan said, trying to excuse them so the patient could get some much-needed sleep. He made a move to stand, gently tugging Hazel along.

But the frail old man gripped Hazel’s hand with desperate strength. Refusing to let her go, he turned his sharp attention back to his grandson. "Hazel... she suffers from a deep physical coldness. You... you must take excellent care of her health."

Forced to remain by the bed, Tristan sat back down. Hazel did not dare to move a muscle under the old man's hold. They sat quietly together, the rhythmic beep of the monitor returning to normal, until Arthur finally exhausted himself. His bony grip slowly loosened as he fell into a deep, drug-induced sleep. Only then did Hazel dare to slip her warm hand free from his lingering grasp.

Stepping away from the bed, Tristan smirked. He explained his grandfather's eerie insights without missing a beat. "My grandpa is a real master of traditional Chinese medicine. He can easily diagnose people on sight."

Hazel, though slightly skeptical of how traditional medicine could explain the Go comment, offered a polite, subdued smile in return.

As they approached the heavy ward door to leave, bitter voices drifted in from the hospital hallway. Tristan's aunts, Vivian and Gloria, were standing just outside, loudly gossiping about the family will.

"Did you manage to find out about the will from the lawyer?" Vivian complained, her voice laced with anxiety. "I now fear that our father-in-law might actually include that rascal Tristan in the division of my son's rightful inheritance!"

Gloria chimed in with a venomous tone. "Speaking of which, why does Arthur favor him so much over the other grandchildren? It's all because of his late mother. After all, she was Arthur’s precious only daughter. Otherwise, why would Arthur value him so much?"

Stepping out of the room, Tristan intercepted the sarcastic women. "Hello, Vivian, Gloria," he offered with a chilling greeting. "How have you been?"

Vivian sneered, her words heavy with the nasty insinuation that Tristan was only visiting the hospital daily to secure his piece of the inheritance. "Ah, Tristan. You're here to see your grandpa again today!"

Flashing a dangerous smile, Tristan blocked their path to the ward door. "Grandpa just fell asleep," he informed them, a subtle aggression underlying his polite tone. "It's best for you not to go in and disturb his sweet dreams."

The caregiver stepped out from behind Tristan, seconding his warning. "Yeah, ladies, Mr. Langdon is sleeping. You can go in when he wakes up."