Chapter 577: The Young Know Not the Taste of Sorrow
“Or what? Take care of you like a mature man?” Chris’ voice softened.
Yolanda’s eyes darkened, revealing an unfathomable depth.
She lowered her head, a strand of hair falling by her ear.
The wind stirred, rippling the waters of the spring pool.
“Chris,” Yolanda changed the subject, “Who do you think is Chale Cheney’s biological mother?”
On the other end, Chris furrowed his brows.
“Mr. Cheney is also looking, isn’t he? He has been looking for so long and hasn’t found her, that woman is probably dead.”
“From what I know, Mr. Cheney isn’t a man who leads a messed up private life.”
“But Mr. Cheney has had a few women in Landon over the years; that’s normal, isn’t it?” Chris remained unconcerned.
“You’re right.” Yolanda withdrew her thoughts, “It’s just that, this woman Jasmine Yale is quite cunning. Her getting close to Chale Cheney, I fear she may be up to something.”
“She is just a dog raised in the Cheney Residence, what schemes could she have?”
“Yeah, she can’t turn the tables, can she? Mr. Cheney’s property is not something she can claim.”
“So, Yolanda, don’t worry.”
“Alright, no more talking, Lawyer Archeus is here, I’ll go have a chat with him.”
“Alright, take care.”
Yolanda hung up the phone and looked out the window.
The sun shone weakly on the ground, the light was dim, and in the distance were rows of tall, bare trees.
The inexpressible desolation and chill were unique to Landon’s winter.
The air was filled with floating particles; a gust of wind blew, scattering them.
Yolanda wrapped her shawl tightly, put away her mobile, and headed for the living room.
Three days before New Year’s Eve, the city was all lit up, bustling with noise and excitement.
Everywhere was decorated with lanterns and colored ribbons; the atmosphere of the New Year was strong.
Chale Cheney was taken out by Joe Heath to have fun, and Jasmine Yale went out alone for a stroll.
She didn’t have much intention to buy new things.
Even the word “New Year” had faded in her heart three years ago.
As she walked, she ended up in an old alleyway and saw a vendor selling plum blossom cakes.
She stopped in her tracks, standing absent-mindedly in front of the stall.
The old street, familiar scenes, faint memories of past years.
When she was young, her family was not very well off, but every New Year, her mother would buy her lots of delicious plum blossom cakes.
Later, when she moved to the Cheney Residence, she could not change her habits and was always craving to eat it.
The first year, she dared not ask for it.
The second year, she couldn’t resist the cravings anymore and began to indirectly hint to Sylvan Cheney.
“Mr. Cheney, those plum blossom cakes look really delicious.”
“Mr. Cheney, the grandfather making those plum blossom cakes looks so hard working, with only a few customers in this cold weather.”
“Mr. Cheney, it’s really cold today, having something warm would warm the stomach.”
However, the man walking beside her did not respond.
Until they returned to the Cheney Residence, there was no chance of getting the plum blossom cake anymore.
She sat at home feeling dejected and unhappy.
But the next day, there were several warm plum blossom cakes on her table, still steaming hot.
“Aunt Hurst bought them.” He tossed the plum blossom cakes down and left.
She watched his back, feeling overjoyed!
Although Aunt Hurst bought them, it was still a joy!
When one is young, even the smallest of things can bring half a day’s worth of joy.
Young people know not the taste of sorrow.
“Miss, do you want to buy one? Just made, very delicious,” The old lady at the entrance of the alley called out to Jasmine Yale.
Jasmine snapped back to reality, nodding her head: “I’ll take one.”
She found a quiet spot, sat alone on the cold steps, and began eating.
At the end of her gaze, was nothing.
Empty, only she was there, like a little kitten.