Jasmine Yale reached out her hand, "I don’t want the betrothal gift; I want sothing else."
Sylvan Cheney turned his head and looked at her tender profile, "What do you want?"
"I want that ring."
"I won’t give it."
"Why won’t you give it? Why?" Jasmine Yale turned her head to et his eyes, "Why won’t you give it?"
"What do you need the ring for?"
"To get married! Don’t people wear rings when they get married? I like that one! You don’t have to give a betrothal gift; just give the ring, okay?"
"I won’t give it."
"So stingy..." Jasmine Yale couldn’t help but exclaim.
He didn’t give it.
If he wouldn’t give it, then that was it.
It was his thing, after all; she couldn’t just steal it.
Jasmine Yale turned her head again, looking sowhat angrily at the fireworks.
From high up in the building, the surrounding scene was fully visible; a dizzying array of light and color, illumination and revelry.
Intersecting roads were lined with rows of bright streetlights, and cars shuttled back and forth.
The night in the city had its particular splendor.
"You should change your Weibo na when you have ti," Jasmine Yale suddenly said, as if she had thought of sothing.
"Hmm?" Sylvan Cheney was puzzled by her seemingly irrelevant remark.
"I an your Weibo na. Isn’t ’SJC’ okay? Why did you have to change it to that?" Jasmine Yale was too embarrassed to say it.
"You’re managing even my na?"
"It’s not that I particularly want to manage it; it’s just you being intentional. A perfectly good na, why change it? It’s obviously intentional."
"Yes, it’s intentional. So what?"
"You! You!" Jasmine Yale choked, never having seen soone so shalessly self-assured.
That tone of voice, truly unapologetically brazen.
Jasmine Yale didn’t want to deal with him anymore.
She really found him annoying.
She continued to lean on the counter and watch the fireworks, her gaze misty, cheeks flushed.
Sylvan Cheney watched her, standing very close.
Her hand would occasionally touch his soft sweater, and sotis, she thought about throwing herself into his arms.
"I’m returning to Cakago tomorrow. Since we’ve t, take good care of yourself," Jasmine Yale said, having had a few drinks, talking incessantly, sounding a bit lancholic, "Things will get better."
Everything would get better.
He would get better, and the Cheney Family would too.
After the storm, he would still be Landon’s king, and the Cheney Family would still be thriving.
The storm would soon pass.
"After I return to Cakago, I’ll get engaged to Mr. Carbon. If you don’t co, it’s fine; I’ll still be happy," Jasmine Yale said with a smile, curling the corners of her lips.
Sylvan Cheney’s eyes darkened.
The fireworks outside had finished, and now, the sky returned to silence and darkness.
His deep eyes looked at her, not speaking.
"You could bless , you know. Your sister is getting married; her brother should be the happiest, right?"
"Of course." He uttered these two words lightly, his expression indifferent.
For so reason, at that mont, he furrowed his brows and his hand instinctively reached toward his pant pocket, wanting to pull out a pack of cigarettes.
But just as he touched the cigarette box, Jasmine Yale quickly snatched it away!
"Stop ssing around; give it to ," he said, narrowing his long, slender eyes.
"Give one, will you?"
"Stop it!"
"Then you shouldn’t smoke either," Jasmine Yale scolded, opening the window.
With a "snap," she threw his cigarette box out of the window, looking at him with a slightly spiteful expression.
Sylvan Cheney could only shake his head helplessly, not knowing what to do with her.
She then imdiately pulled the curtains and walked over to the table.
With no cigarettes left, Sylvan Cheney had no choice but to put away the lighter and join her at the table.
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