Chapter 202: Is This Your Son?
Chapter 202: Is This Your Son?
Chapter 202: Is This Your Son?
Chapter 202: Chapter 202: Is This Your Son?
Translator: 549690339 |
Jasmine Yale was leaning against the window, grinning stupidly at her cell phone.
Her cheeks grew hotter, and she simply opened the window.
Autumn wind blew in, she tilted her head, casually swiping on her phone.
Not long after, someone commented on her Weibo: “This wine isn’t cheap.” Jasmine let out a dry laugh, tapping on the keyboard, she replied: “I don’t know, drank it like water.”
“Drinking wine like water, are you heartbroken?”
“Who says you can only drink when you’re heartbroken?”
Jasmine laughed, this person is really funny, only drinking when you’re heartbroken?
She scrolled through the Weibo of this person named “SJC”, which only had some sporadic photos and snippets of text.
Then the person quickly replied to her: “Young lady, don’t drink too much.” Jasmine laughed hazily, this person is really nosy. Too much free time, huh? Just as annoying as Sylvan Cheney that beast.
No, why did she think of Sylvan Cheney again?
She rubbed her temples, and cracked open the window a bit wider.
Jasmine didn’t reply, she didn’t care much for strangers who love to poke their noses into her business.
And on Weibo, there’s always a lot of such strangers.
Her head ached horribly, so she finally called Sister Penny for a leave.
“Sister Penny, the collaboration discussions are almost done, for the specific details, they’ll talk to our company separately.”
“You’ve worked hard, Jasmine.”
“It’s okay, just drank a bit of wine. Sister Penny… can I take half a day off?”
“Of course, did they give you a hard time?”
“Not really.”
Jasmine remembered Joe Heath, who she’d doused with a bottle of red wine.
Of course, she didn’t exactly come off better, that large glass of wine made her innards feel like they were boiling. She’s feeling awful now.
“That’s good, you don’t need to come in this afternoon, go home and rest.” “Alright, thank you Sister Penny.”
Jasmine hung up the phone, feeling dizzy as she leaned against the car window.
The outdoor hustle and bustle, the noise was deafening.
The sunlight shone through the glass window, she vaguely watched the outside, inexplicably, she missed her child again…
Little Rascal…
Little Rascal…
The softest part of her heart felt like it had been touched.
Her eye sockets, turned a shade of red.
She raised her hand and wrote on Weibo: Only those who have wept through the long night are qualified to speak of life.
She opened her phone album again and looked at Little Chale’s pictures.
Such a cute little guy, she really loves…
His pink and tender little face, his long eyelashes, and his big and black eyes.
Every time she saw his picture, she remembered his voice, and the time he called her “mommy”…
She found a sneaky picture of Little Chale’s back and used it as illustration. “Little Chale…” she murmured softly, propped up her cheek and smiled. “Miss, is that your son? He’s so cute.” The cab driver saw the picture and laughed.
There was a distant look in Jasmine’s eyes, but she nodded, deceiving herself: “Yes, my son.”
“Such a handsome boy, could even be a child star.”
“Hehe.” Jasmine laughed.
Of course, their Little Chale is adorable.
“How old is he?”
“Just over three.”
“He’s tall for his age, fair and delicate, these big eyes, double eyelids, he looks a lot like you, Miss. I suppose his daddy must be very handsome too?”
Jasmine’s heart felt a stab of pain.
Poor little guy… abandoned by his birth parents.
So pitiful…
Everyone loves this little boy, how could his parents be so cruel..