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“Is it delicious?” Sylvan Cheney couldn’t help but ask.

Chale Cheney shook his head: “It doesn’t seem to be too tasty, does it?”

“Oh, you’ll just have to make do.” Sylvan Cheney smirked.

As for Jasmine Yale’s cooking skills, he wasn’t exactly a fan, and Chale Cheney had unfortunately inherited his picky eating habits.

He’s always been choosy from a young age.

Picky even when eating plain porridge.

“Mmm.” The little guy scooped a mouthful with his spoon, obediently eating.

Sylvan Cheney accompanied Chale Cheney for a while before calling Butler Santana into the private rest room at the hospital.

“What happened?”

Sylvan Cheney glanced at Butler Santana, his gaze icy and strict.

Butler Santana lowered his head: “Mr. Cheney, the young master was fine last night, but started having a stomachache this morning. The doctor checked and said it was food poisoning.”

“What did he eat?”

“Mr. Cheney, the young master’s breakfast was prepared by the kitchen as usual.”

“Besides breakfast, what else did he eat?”

“Apart from breakfast, he had some common snacks, the ones that are always kept in the young master’s room.”

“Did you have them checked?” Sylvan Cheney asked.

“The results aren’t out yet, but they should be soon, should I ask?”

“Mmm.”

Upon receiving his order, Butler Santana left the rest room.

She was somewhat afraid of Sylvan Cheney.

No sooner had Butler Santana left than Sylvan Cheney’s phone rang.

“Mr. Cheney.”

“Hmm?”

“Is anything wrong with Little Chale?”

“He’s been food poisoned, what do you think?”

Jasmine Yale frowned, her heart squeezed: “Is it serious?”

Ever since Sylvan Cheney had left, her heart had been on edge. She knew that she had no relationship with Chale Cheney, but she just couldn’t control herself.

This feeling was too strong.

Just like when her little rascal used to kick her belly suddenly, her heart would tremble.

“It’s serious, he can’t even drink water now.”

Upon hearing Sylvan Cheney’s stern and chilly tone, Jasmine Yale was frightened.

“Did you get him a doctor? A good one? Is he being hydrated, taking medicine?” Jasmine Yale was a bit anxious.

She had complex feelings for little Chale Cheney.

Her heart had already exceeded her limit of control.

It was as if she was bewitched!

“He’s being hydrated.”

“Is it really serious? He is still so small…” Jasmine Yale suddenly felt afraid.

“Let’s hang up for now, the doctor is here and if it’s serious, he may need to have his stomach pumped.”

“Ah…” Jasmine Yale let out a frightened cry.

The little guy was so young, a stomach pump? Was it that serious?

After ending the call, Sylvan Cheney lit a cigarette, his long eyes slightly squinted.

The sky outside the window was gloomy, with very low pressure.

It looked like it might snow again soon.

“Mr. Cheney, the test results are out.” Butler Santana entered the room.

“Speak.” Sylvan Cheney held a cigarette between his fingers, without much emotion, his gaze as deep as a pool, unfathomable.

“There was no issue with the breakfast from the kitchen, the problem was with the snacks.”

“Who bought the snacks for him?”

“Miss Lana Fern.”

A fleeting change crossed Sylvan Cheney’s eyes, but it was soon calm once more.

“When were they bought?”

“A few days ago.”

Sylvan Cheney took a drag of his cigarette, pausing for a few seconds to think.

“Go downstairs and call Charles Mcintosh. This matter needs to be kept confidential.”

“Alright, I’ll go right now,” Butler Santana nodded.

Butler Santana had always been obedient to Sylvan Cheney’s commands, and since Butler Tomer left, all the power of the Cheney Residence had been handed over to her.

She can’t shirk her responsibility for such an incident today.