After breakfast, Sylvan Cheney went upstairs to change his clothes.
Jasmine Yale squatted down and caressed Riceball's head, teasing it for a while.
"Riceball, I'm leaving now. Will you miss me? Don't miss me."
Riceball licked the back of her hand, circled around her, and looked up at her with eyes filled with reluctant longing.
"You must feel lonely here at Cheney Residence, right? It'll be better when Chale comes back. He'll play with you."
Jasmine squatted on the ground, rambling to Riceball in bits and pieces.
Riceball was unwilling to part with her, and she felt the same.
Sylvan Cheney fastened the buttons of his coat and walked down the stairs.
"Let's go," Sylvan Cheney stood before her.
Jasmine, still squatting on the ground, looked up at him—this tall man radiated a powerful aura and an irresistible authority.
He still wore the familiar scent of Agarwood Fragrance, as he had for ten years.
She stood up and walked beside him, nodding her head.
