When a man has money, he starts to get conceited.
This grandson of his is no exception, rotten to the core!
Spencer Childe’s hand pulled the trigger, aiming at Jasmine Yale’s temple.
Jasmine Yale felt sothing hard pressed against her head and slowly closed her eyes.
Rainwater flowed down her face, she wasn’t crying at this mont. In fact, she knew from the mont Spencer Childe’s n took her that she wouldn’t see tomorrow’s sun.
Endless darkness, chilling cold rain.
She was waiting for the sound of the gunshot.
Once it fired, everything would be over.
From then on, there would be no more Jasmine Yale.
From then on, she wouldn’t have to carry her past, nor would she have any distances between her and Sylvan Cheney.
It’s just a pity that they’ll be separated by life and death. On future Qingming Festivals, she would co to visit him... is that alright...?
The cetery beca silent in an instant, everyone held their breath, no one dared to utter a word.
Lana Fern covered her ears, trembling with fear.
She had never seen such a scene before.
Tor, the butler, was old and didn’t dare to look. He closed his eyes and took a few steps back.
Yet Jasmine Yale’s face remained calm, like a tranquil lake, unruffled.
At this mont, there was only one person in her mind—Sylvan Cheney.
It turns out, before dying, one thinks most of the person they love the most.
She loves Sylvan Cheney.
If there’s a next life, she wonders if he would still want to coax her ho with a lollipop, then hold her dirty little hand by the sink to wash them.
Hmm... if there’s a next life, should it be a different flavored lollipop? Maybe cola-flavored, or strawberry-flavored?
Then, he should be a bit kinder to her; when she confesses, he should accept; when she acts spoiled, he should pamper her; when she gets angry, he should coax her...
Is that alright...?
"Sylvan..." Jasmine called out his na in her heart.
She really wanted to see him.
"Bang"—
A gunshot rang out!
White smoke spread, the air was instantly filled with the sll of gunpowder.
Because of this loud noise, both Tor and Lana Fern quickly stepped back, their legs weakened by fear, especially Lana, who gaped, covering her ears, trembling.
The strong scent of blood mingled with gunpowder, washed by rain, exuded a nauseating odor.
The bodyguards, however, remained expressionless, as if they were used to such scenes, standing motionless.
Intense pain.
Jasmine Yale’s ears were ringing, and if not for the two bodyguards pressing down on her, she wouldn’t have been able to hold on.
Her heart suddenly clenched tight, the pain drilled to the bone.
Spencer Childe’s shot didn’t hit her temple but struck her scapula.
Blood gushed from Jasmine Yale’s shoulder, and her entire cream-colored sweater was dyed crimson.
Jasmine Yale’s face turned ashen, she opened her eyes, staring fixedly at the tombstone ahead.
Ha...
Why didn’t they just shoot to kill her...
The pain reached her marrow, her bones felt broken...
She managed a tragic smile, a pale and powerless curve at the corner of her lips.
"It’s not that cheap for you." Spencer Childe sneered, putting away the scorching handgun, "You must know, the little suffering you endure is not even a hundredth of theirs! Killing you is indeed too easy. They struggled in the raging fire, where were you? Were you still at your cozy ho eating cake, drinking milk tea, watching Yana Yale paint, and listening to Hadley Xinez play the piano?"
Jasmine Yale forced a smile, the pain rendered her speechless.
She had a late mory developnt, so she hardly rembered anything before she was four or five years old.
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