Chapter 1677: Chapter 1677: Mom, where’s the hug!
The rain keeps falling, beating against the window, a thick white mist rising in the air.
The wind has picked up, fog has descended.
The sky hasn’t yet brightened, the surroundings remain cloaked in darkness, not a finger can be seen.
Jasmine Yale cries intermittently under the covers, gasping for breath, until eventually, she can cry no more, speak no more, she simply lays silently in the thick blankets.
By the pillow, it seems, Sylvan Cheney’s scent still lingers, that faint agarwood fragrance.
The room is enveloped in darkness, she closes her eyes, convulsing with sobs.
Longing is like a kite flying towards the sky, without wind, it fails to rise high, never reaching the distant place it wishes to arrive.
In Jasmine Yale’s mind, there are threads upon threads tangled together, impossible to unravel.
By eight in the morning, Butler Santana calls Jasmine Yale to wake up.
Jasmine Yale responds gloomily, “I want to sleep in.”
Butler Santana pauses, standing outside the door, saying, “Alright, the weather is bad today, Miss Yale can sleep a bit longer. I’m going out for a bit; if Miss Yale needs anything, just call . Breakfast and lunch are both prepared.”
The sound of rain trickles in her ears.
Jasmine Yale naturally knows what Butler Santana is going out to do.
She responds again, “Okay…”
The people of the Cheney Family have gone to the cetery, on this solemn and grand day.
She doesn’t count as one of the Cheney Family, lacks the qualification, nor should she go.
For a while, there is no sound outside; Jasmine Yale knows Butler Santana has left.
In the vast Cheney Residence, she’s left all alone, solitary.
The sky has brightened, but the clouds hang heavy, the weather is quite poor.
White mist envelops the clear glass, forming frost flowers on it due to the indoor and outdoor temperature difference.
Jasmine Yale has no desire to move, to get out of bed, nor to eat.
She just wants to lie there, undisturbed by anyone.
She does not sleep again, keeps her eyes open, recalling bits and pieces from her childhood.
The first person she felt comfortable to be spoiled with was her mother.
She would often wobble forward on her little legs, spreading her arms wide: “Mama, cuddle !”
Whenever that happened, Yana Yale would laugh and pick her up from the ground, joyfully kissing her, as though she were her little angel.
“Mama, do you like Jasy?”
“Of course, I love you.”
“Mama, will you take Jasy to the zoo soday?”
“I will, what little animals do you like? We can take pictures, alright?”
“Little peacock, so pretty.”
“Okay, we’ll go see the little peacock soday.”
Thinking of this, Jasmine Yale’s lips lift in a smile and a curve.
Later, Yana Yale really took her to see the little peacock and held her for a photo together.
The tickets and photos were quite expensive, bought with money Yana Yale earned from tutoring.
Life back then was exceptionally frugal; she rarely saw her mother buy new clothes, it seed she always had the sa few cheongsams, coats, sweaters.
The photo was later placed in an album, yet the album, along with all her mother’s belongings… probably discarded long ago.
Her childhood didn’t have much of Kaine Zahir’s shadow, because Kaine Zahir often stayed out all night.
But, Yana Yale, who was eight years her senior, never missed a mont of her growing up.
Jasmine Yale thinks, if back then the Cheney Family hadn’t issued a pursuit order on the descendants of the Xinez Family, perhaps Mother wouldn’t have had to separate from Father, maybe Mother could have lived a satisfying and joyful life, at the very least, wouldn’t have had to endure Kaine Zahir’s drunken curses as he did later.
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