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Sylvan Cheney made Jasmine Yale sit in the passenger seat, fastened her seat belt for her, then walked around to the driver’s side.

Sylvan Cheney was very focused when he drove, his expression remaining somewhat cold and serious.

“You’re angry, aren’t you? I didn’t mean to interfere, it’s just that with people like this, knowing your nature, you won’t say much to him upfront. If you keep retreating, he will push his boundaries, so…”

“Thank you.”

Sylvan Cheney interrupted Jasmine Yale.

Jasmine seemed startled, turning her head towards him in disbelief.

Her eyes were filled with surprise.

She thought Sylvan Cheney would say “These are things you shouldn’t meddle in”.

But she was wrong.

Sylvan Cheney pulled a faint smile, raising a hand to gently touch her head, saying again, “Thank you.”

He understood her intentions.

She knew he hated quarreling with people, and had to bear loss when faced with shameless, thick-skinned individuals.

Especially, when this person holds the so-called “father” status.

So, she took on the role of the villain.

Jasmine was stunned for quite a while.

Was he really thanking her?

“Don’t thank me, I just did what I thought was right.” Jasmine diverted her gaze, looking out the window.

If he felt it was right, nothing could be better.

If it wasn’t, she would take it as being too presumptuous.

After all, this might be the last thing she does for him.

She isn’t highly skilled; she can only do so much.

These past few days, she didn’t go anywhere, but thought a lot.

Sylvan Cheney has never done anything wrong to her; him not loving her wasn’t his fault.

“Jasy, when you go out next time, tell me.” Sylvan Cheney’s voice was gentle, a hint of worry concealed in his eyebrows.

“I saw you were sleeping well and didn’t want to wake you.”

“Not allowed next time.” He was treating her like a young girl.

Jasmine remained silent, there probably would be no next time.

“Did I drink a lot of alcohol yesterday?” His brows slightly knitted together.

“Yes.”

“Did I babble about anything?”

“No, you can hold your liquor very well. You never blurt out nonsense.” She was telling the truth.

She sometimes wondered if this man maintains an infinite alertness even when drunk.

“Did I scare you?”

“No.” Jasmine shook her head.

Besides cuddling her the entire night, there weren’t any overly drastic actions.

“Jasy,” He turned to look at her helplessly, “you’ve become distant to me.”

Her tone and attitude were different from before.

“I’m not the Jasy from before.”

Jasmine rested her head, her gaze flitting past the window with a lost look in her eyes.

There was a trace of bleakness in her gaze.

Like the fallen leaves outside the window, a hint of sorrow always lingered.

Sylvan Cheney’s grip on the steering wheel paused momentarily.

“Your father is indeed despicable and shameless.” She switched topics.

“Don’t mention him.” Sylvan Cheney frowned.

“Oh.”

“Let’s grab some breakfast, you must be hungry.”

“A little.” Jasmine agreed.

The atmosphere inside the car was somewhat cold.

Their conversation, short and plain, felt like two people who didn’t know each other well, their interaction marked by a profound sense of estrangement.

This estrangement irritated Sylvan Cheney.

“Chale got the first place in the middle school exam. He said you once promised him that you would grant him a wish.” Sylvan Cheney said.

Jasmine was taken aback.

She remembered it.

“Does he have any wishes?” Holding her head, Jasmine inquired.