When she ca out, the sky was already pitch dark.
The square was bustling with people coming and going.
The sumr evening breeze brushed against her skin, a teasing comfort, neither cold nor hot, just perfect.
Jasmine Yale walked slowly; she went to the store to get Butler Santana a small gift.
Butler Santana was loyal to her, asking for nothing in return, and she treated her with motherly kindness.
Suddenly, Jasmine rembered her birthday was approaching.
There wasn’t much of a Qixi Festival tradition abroad; she almost forgot her birthday. Walking down the street, she recalled it.
This year, the best birthday gift would be the baby in her belly.
She wasn’t too particular about birthdays; when the ti cos, she’ll ask Butler Santana to make a few more dishes and bake a cake for herself.
The evening breeze swept over her, lifting her soft strands of hair.
Not lingering long at the square, she took the subway ho.
"Miss Yale, you’re back, bought lots of snacks," Butler Santana said with a smile.
"Yes, and I got you a little gift, here." Jasmine handed the tote bag to Butler Santana.
"Miss Yale, you shouldn’t have. You haven’t had dinner yet, right? Sit down, sit down, dinner is ready."
"Okay."
The food was fragrant and delicious, and Butler Santana specially made nourishing pigeon soup.
Jasmine’s life in Cakago was very routine; every day after dinner, she would take a walk, then co ho to shower, read, and tell the baby stories.
Today was no exception.
After drying her hair, she sat on the sofa, wearing a pale pink nightgown, holding a storybook.
"Baby, let’s continue the story of ’The Ugly Duckling.’" Jasmine turned the pages of the storybook, her eyes gentle and captivating like spring water, her dark hair falling over her chest, soft and sweet.
Her gentle voice told the story to the baby, word by word, tirelessly.
Sotis Butler Santana would pause when she saw Jasmine, sighing softly.
Such a gentle, lovely girl, how could heaven be so cruel to her?
If Mr. Cheney were here, he would cherish her and the child dearly.
"Baby, do you understand? The ugly duckling eventually turned into a swan because it was ant to be a swan all along." Jasmine patiently turned the pages, the air conditioning blowing coolly on her, "Alright, shall we talk about sothing else?"
As Jasmine lowered her head to flip through the book, the child in her belly kicked her a few tis.
Jasmine gently stroked her belly, "Don’t be naughty."
Jasmine was particularly patient; when she talked to the baby, her brows and eyes were always smiling, full of warmth and sweetness.
Since so of her work was taken over by colleagues, she didn’t need to bring work ho in the evenings anymore, giving her more ti to spend with the baby.
However, she felt insecure.
She always feared that the next morning, HR would tell her not to co to work.
Actually... she still wanted to continue with the entertainnt project; she had so many ideas and inspirations she hadn’t had a chance to share yet.
Unfortunately, she hadn’t co across the project lately.
The choices had been made, hadn’t they, by Sylvan Cheney?
The night outside the window was exceptionally deep; after telling the story for a while, Jasmine yawned, realizing it was already past nine at night.
Drawing the curtains, she returned to the bedroom.
A white mist arose outside, with stars faint and distant, the moon absent, the entire estate enveloped in the profound night, quiet and silent.
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