Whenever she spoke of Jasmine Yale, her face always wore a loving smile, as if she were talking about her own daughter-in-law.
That girl had been likable to her from the very first glance.
Gentle, beautiful, radiant.
She could see clearly that Sylvan Cheney also liked Jasmine Yale from the bottom of his heart—his gaze didn’t lie.
Whenever Sylvan looked at Jasmine, there was indulgent tenderness in his brows and eyes.
"Mr. Cheney kept this matter pretty tight-lipped. I had no idea. If you hadn’t said anything, I really wouldn’t have known that Mr. Cheney was already married." Lana Fern’s face was full of surprise, looking utterly astonished.
"Sylvan has always been steady in his actions. I didn’t know either. This is the first ti I’ve t his wife. Sylvan has his reasons and concerns for not going public about it. As an elder, I just support his decisions."
"Yes, yes, Mr. Cheney is indeed steady in his actions." Lana followed Aunt May’s remarks. "If he hasn’t made it public, he naturally has his reasons. After all, Mr. Cheney isn’t an ordinary person. But... this wife of his, she seems a bit familiar to , like I’ve seen her sowhere before..."
"You recognize her?" Aunt May looked toward Lana.
"I think I do. I think... Aunt May, you probably recognize her too."
Aunt May shook her head with a laugh. "You’re teasing . This is my first ti eting Miss Yale. I’ve got a good mory, don’t try to fool . I’m certain this is the first ti I’ve ever t Miss Yale—we’ve never had any prior interaction."
Lana stepped behind Aunt May, gently kneading her shoulders, a sly, cold glint flashing in her eyes.
Lana’s voice was crisp, but at this very mont, she leaned on Aunt May’s shoulder and lowered her tone: "Oh, Aunt May, how could I dare fool you? I’m not the kind of person who lies with my eyes open. Aunt May, don’t you think Mr. Cheney’s wife seems a little familiar? Like the kind of familiarity as if you’ve seen her sowhere. I heard soone say her mother’s na is Yana Yale—Yale as in the leaves, Yana as in the clouds, and Yale again like dawn in spring—Yana Yale."
The last three words, Lana enunciated heavily, one word at a ti.
All of a sudden, the air around seed to grow heavy.
The room, warm and cozy just a mont ago, felt as if hit by a sudden cold gust of wind.
Lana’s voice lingered in the room like a ghostly specter, swirling and echoing, leaving a haunting resonance.
The temperature plumted, and the air fell into an eerie silence.
In an instant, the entire office beca so quiet that not a sound could be heard, as though it had been plunged into the darkness before a raging storm.
Aunt May’s breathing hitched for a mont, catching in her throat, her heart pounding uncontrollably, "thump, thump, thump," as if it might leap out of her chest.
Lana kept kneading Aunt May’s shoulders with a asured force, the corners of her lips curling into an imperceptible smile.
Aunt May’s emotions surged imdiately, her eyes filled with disbelief and stunned astonishnt.
Yana Yale.
"W-what did you say?" Aunt May’s voice trembled as she pressed her hands down to steady herself, trying to restrain her emotions.
"Yana Yale. Are there many other Yana Yales? Oh, her husband was Hadley Xinez—you know, the Xinez Family and the Yale Family used to be quite prominent in Landon. Their marriage alliance was the talk of the town back then, envied by so many people. Yana Yale was proficient in music, chess, calligraphy, and painting, and she was stunningly beautiful—a true artist admired by all. Hadley Xinez had the dignity of a scholar, loved designing, and was very handso. Aunt May, don’t you rember? It wasn’t even that long ago..."
Aunt May’s lips trembled.
Rember? How could she not rember?
She rembered everything.
The Xinez Family—they were the main culprits behind the Cheney Family’s massacre in Landon, responsible for taking dozens of lives in the Cheney household and the tragic death of Qiana.
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