Fated love: the unwanted bride
Chapter 1184: Holding Hands with Interlocked Fingers

Chapter 1184: Chapter 1184: Holding Hands with Interlocked Fingers

Jasmine Yale walked along the pathway, her laughter faint and dreamy, "Do you want me to answer ’will’ or ’won’t’? Whatever answer you like to hear, I’ll just say that."

"When did you become so obedient?"

"If I’m not obedient, what would you do if you don’t let me go?" Jasmine Yale looked at him with a smile.

Sylvan Cheney was at a loss for words, as she always had a knack for catching him off guard.

The pathway through the plum grove was fragrant and pleasant.

Every corner of the Cheney Residence was filled with memories from her youth.

Sylvan Cheney walked slowly, following her.

She wouldn’t let him follow, deliberately quickening her pace, moving ahead of him.

The road was long, lined with plum trees. When the weather got a bit colder, plum blossoms would bloom everywhere.

The faint scent of the plum blossoms, in all sorts of colors, was a delightful thought.

The weather was beautiful today, sunlight pouring down from overhead like shards of jade, like pearls.

She was like a lively little rabbit that had suddenly gained freedom, and she was especially joyful.

She walked along the path, wandering through the plum grove.

"Jasmine Yale," he called her name, stopping her, "go study well in Cakago, find a job you like, and don’t come back to Landon."

Jasmine Yale paused, her laughter somewhat forced.

"I know, I don’t have any feelings for Landon. I quite like Cakago, it’s different from here."

As to how it was different, she couldn’t say.

"The semester is almost over, everything has been quite good, more comfortable than back home," Jasmine said indifferently, "Final exams are coming up soon."

"That’s good," he nodded.

"Mhm, it is good," Jasmine pouted.

She was a bit unsure how to communicate with Sylvan Cheney. It seemed they were increasingly on different wavelengths.

"Are you going to lock me in the room again this afternoon? Will Butler Santana have to bring up my meals?" She held a grudge about that.

"No one is coming over this afternoon, I’ll keep you company."

"Oh, did you buy the plane ticket already?" That was what she was most concerned about.

"I’ll buy it for you this afternoon."

"Okay."

Just then, Jasmine Yale’s phone pinged.

She checked it; it was a message from Yukon Carbon on WeChat: "Are you back in Cakago?"

Jasmine Yale replied: "The flight’s delayed, I’ll be back tomorrow."

"Good, stay safe, keep warm."

Jasmine Yale responded with a "happy" emoji.

Sylvan Cheney’s brows furrowed, standing beside her, of course, he saw everything.

Jasmine Yale put away her phone, her hands tucked into her coat pockets, and continued walking forward.

The plum blossom path was fragrant.

Gradually, Sylvan Cheney still took her hand, holding it in his broad palm.

Her hand was warm, and so was his large palm; together, they felt even warmer.

Jasmine Yale’s heart skipped a beat, an indescribable feeling spread from her limbs to her core, like the growth of spring grass.

At first, he held her small hand within his own, then slowly, their fingers intertwined.

Jasmine Yale tugged, but couldn’t pull her hand away.

She and he walked side by side on the pathway through the plum grove, from one end to the other, winding out of the woods, step by step.

Throughout, this man remained very silent.

Until Butler Santana came to call them for a meal.

Butler Santana’s eyes fell on their tightly clasped fingers, a flash of surprise in his gaze, but in a moment, it disappeared.

"Mr. Cheney, Miss Yale, it’s time for lunch."

"Hmm, let’s go." Sylvan Cheney pulled Jasmine Yale away.