"Tell ." Sylvan Cheney grabbed her shoulders, his deanor forceful, his gaze piercing her eyes with a sharp glint, "Where are you hurt?"
Jasmine Yale did not push him away again; she only glanced at him indifferently, "Hotel room, , a tall man from UT. What do you think would happen?"
When Jasmine looked at him, from Sylvan Cheney’s perspective, he could see her disheveled hair and the icy glare in her eyes.
Upon hearing her response, Sylvan Cheney’s hand involuntarily trembled.
He stared at her in shock, hands tightly gripping her shoulders, forgetting to let go.
How could it be...
"President, you’re hurting ." She said calmly, "My shoulder."
"I’m sorry, I was late... Who did it?"
"President, I don’t know who did it, but there’s no need to ask that." Jasmine appeared quiet and peaceful. "I know you have a scale in your heart, weighing pros and cons. But there is no perfect solution in this world; since you’ve already made a choice, don’t co looking for anymore."
"Erin Janus? Did she have soone do it?"
"I don’t know. I didn’t check, nor do I want to stir trouble between you two."
Jasmine did not look at him.
They hadn’t seen each other for many days; he was still the sa as always, everything seeming fine.
"I brought you a gift from Fraance. In recent days, I’ve thought things through, but I don’t know if you’ll give that ti." Sylvan Cheney said solemnly, still as steady and reserved as ever.
Jasmine hugged her arms, still covered with his suit, yet still felt a slight chill.
"I’m tired, let go back and sleep. Tomorrow’s sun will still rise, right?" Jasmine’s voice was full of fatigue.
Sylvan Cheney held her hand, only then realizing it was icy cold, with a layer of cold sweat in her palm.
His heart felt as if it was being struck dully, with an indescribable heavy pain.
His large hand wrapped around her palm, warm and dry as always.
Jasmine clasped her hand, but he held it even tighter.
He took out a small box from his trouser pocket, the box a silky red, tiny in size.
"I brought you a gift." Sylvan Cheney said.
Jasmine then lowered her head and silently looked at the box in his palm.
The dim yellow light of the street lamp cast a warm glow on the box.
Sylvan Cheney opened the box. Inside was a red string.
Different from the red string Jasmine had worn before, this one was crafted more exquisitely, the weave tighter, and instead of crystal, it was tied with a red bean.
The red bean lay quietly within the transparent heart-shaped pendant, novel and unique.
Sylvan Cheney grasped her left hand, knowing there was a scar on her left wrist.
"Let put it on for you; I saw this in a store during my business trip." Sylvan Cheney patiently and ticulously put the red string on her, fastening the clasp, "Do you like it?"
Jasmine did not nod or shake her head, her gaze fixed on the red string.
Red beans grow in southern lands.
The red bean inside the pendant was carefully selected, full of color, as if newly born.
"If you like it, don’t take it off. I picked the red bean from many beans; to , this one is the most beautiful." Sylvan Cheney’s voice was deep and llow, with an arresting magnetic quality.
Jasmine looked at the red string, her eyes filled with endless depths, a twinkle of light.
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