Chapter 1371: Chapter 1371: He, More Dazzling Than the Stars
The night is deep, and the dark curtain of sky hangs low.
The air all around bears the most familiar scent of winter: withered grass, dead poplars, yellow leaves… every scene assembles into the simplest of nocturnal landscapes.
Occasionally, when Jasmine Yale stays silent, the surroundings plunge into deep stillness.
In this quietude, she can hear Sylvan Cheney’s shallow breaths.
She rests quietly on his shoulder, like a child.
The stars blaze brilliantly, and Changing Light dazzles.
But he, he outshines the stars and is even more captivating than Changing Light.
He has lain dormant in the depths of her heart for years, rging completely with her own, and despite the passage of a thousand ships, she can never forget his visage.
She thought ti would enable her to forget the every mont spent with him, but later realized that so people are already etched into her heart.
The wind cannot blow them away; the rain cannot wash them out.
Instead, the passage of ti only deepens these marks.
Jasmine Yale’s face is always adorned with a smile, as delightful as a sunflower.
Ti always seems to fly when she’s with him; in no ti at all, Sylvan Cheney stands at the entrance to the Cheney Residence.
Lights are on in the Cheney Residence, and Butler Santana is bustling about.
As Sylvan Cheney carries Jasmine Yale on his back to the house, Butler Santana happens to co out.
She is startled at first, but then smiles, “Mr. Cheney, Miss Yale, I’ve prepared so tea and warm drinks.”
“Okay,” Sylvan Cheney nods.
Jasmine Yale timidly hides behind him.
It’s a relief that there’ no one else in the Cheney Residence, otherwise, it would be so embarrassing.
“Put down now,” Jasmine whispers into his ear.
Sylvan Cheney doesn’t comply, continuing to carry her into the warm living room.
He helps her slip into house shoes, and takes off her scarf and coat for her.
Sylvan’s handsoly chiseled face doesn’t show much emotion, but the profound depths of his eyes reveal boundless affection.
Jasmine Yale scampers over to the coffee table, pouring him so boiled water.
“Rember to take your dicine,” she says while preparing his pills.
In her presence, Sylvan Cheney becos more restrained and takes his dication punctually three tis a day.
He’s in good physical condition and recovers quickly; he was just discharged from the hospital yesterday, and there’s nothing serious today.
Jasmine Yale holds a cup of hot water to warm her hands, sitting on the sofa watching TV.
“Mr. Cheney, don’t you think the house is too quiet?” she says lazily, leaning on the sofa and hinting.
“You should know I’ve never been fond of bustling places,” Sylvan Cheney says as he places a laptop on his lap, opens it, and his gaze falls on the screen.
“But I like it lively. If it’s too quiet, I get scared.”
“What, do you have a lot of people at your apartnt in Cakago, huh?”
“…” Jasmine Yale rolls her eyes at him, it’s really impossible to have a proper conversation with him, really.
Jasmine Yale switches to a soap opera, where the female lead is bitterly crying over the male lead’s heartlessness.
Jasmine Yale snorts, “That guy is a lot like you.”
“Can’t we watch sothing else?” Sylvan Cheney complains.
“No,” Jasmine Yale pouts.
Sylvan turns to look at her, his deep gaze resting on her for a mont; she looks like soone… ah, like his precious son.
Sylvan Cheney pays her no more mind and lowers his head to continue looking at his laptop screen.
The living room is warm and cozy, like spring; not at all cold.
Jasmine Yale likes liveliness but not running around everywhere. She thinks, just staying together quietly like this is also good.
There’s nothing interesting on the TV, so Jasmine Yale leans in to look at his laptop.
A stream of various, densely packed data—she thinks… forget it, it’s better to watch TV.
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