The surroundings returned to quiet and desolation once more. Jasmine Yale remained seated on the bench, motionless.
Sotis, when Butler Santana spoke to her, she was reluctant to speak, her gaze wandering aimlessly, as if looking at nothing in particular.
Aunt May brought her a coat to drape over her shoulders, "Don’t catch a cold, don’t let yourself get chilled. You must take care of yourself, young lady. Co, it’s ti to go back; it’s getting windy outside."
As Aunt May spoke, she took her hand, preparing to lead her back to the ward.
Jasmine Yale was very obedient. When Aunt May told her to go back, she followed without resistance.
Butler Santana also took ticulous care of Jasmine Yale, fearing any mishap might befall her.
...
After Qingming, the weather has been pretty good; it hasn’t rained, and it’s been sunny day after day.
The gentle breeze was enchanting, the fresh scent of grass filled the air, with crabapple flowers blossoming everywhere.
Among the green vines, the flowers entwined, looking from afar like vibrant hues in a watercolor painting, exceptionally pleasing to the eye.
Landon remained the sa bustling place, teeming with people coming and going.
The hospital seed like a peaceful sanctuary away from the city center, very quiet, especially the inpatient departnt, where there were no bustling vehicles, only patients, family mbers, and doctors.
Jasmine Yale recovered very well; after seven or eight days, her wounds were almost healed, but Aunt May insisted that she stay in the hospital for further observation.
Thus, Jasmine Yale stayed an additional week in the hospital.
Butler Santana also hoped Jasmine would stay at the hospital because returning to the Cheney Residence and facing old things could easily evoke mories.
On this day, a nurse ca to apply dication to Jasmine’s wound.
"Miss Yale, your wound is healed, don’t worry, there won’t be any scars in the future," the nurse said with a smile.
Jasmine Yale smiled faintly.
She was still very thin, especially after these events, having lost quite a bit of weight.
Butler Santana diligently nurtured her health every day, but it was in vain; Jasmine grew thinner by the day.
It’s often said, illnesses of the heart are hard to cure.
Once the nurse left, Jasmine put on her clothes and quietly walked to the window.
Seeing the crabapple flowers blooming outside, she opened the window, letting the warm spring breeze envelop her.
In a daze, Jasmine recalled spring when she was seventeen or eighteen years old.
When young hearts hold affections for soone, everything appears beautiful.
The garden at the Cheney Residence was filled with a variety of flowers. When spring arrived, the blooms vied for attention. She loved sitting in the pavilion, watching as the spring breeze sent peach petals drifting like snow.
The most beautiful season, the most beautiful years, everything was the best then.
Sotis, she could watch the scene for an entire afternoon. In her whimsy, she would even pluck a callia, peeling the petals one by one.
"Odd ans you don’t like , even ans you do. One petal, two petals, three petals, four petals..." Jasmine idly plucked at the petals, her eyes filled with hope and anticipation, "Twelve petals, thirteen petals, fourteen petals... Ah, one more petal, fifteen petals."
Jasmine threw the flower branch aside in disappointnt.
Alas, fifteen petals.
The light in her eyes dimd.
Just then, Sylvan Cheney walked over, bent down to pick up a callia petal from the ground, and placed it on the stone table: "Where did this petal fall from?"
Jasmine’s eyes lit up: "Sixteen petals!"
Sylvan’s lips curled as his deep and gentle gaze settled on her, his eyebrow raised, "What, sixteen petals?"
Jasmine blushed, "I won’t tell you."
Sylvan draped a trench coat over her, "It’s cold in the pavilion, dress warmly."
User Comments
0 comments from readers