Not long after dinner, Sylvan Cheney personally went to the kitchen to get the Chinese medicine.
The freshly brewed Chinese medicine exuded a strong bitter smell, which wafted in the air and was quite pungent.
Jasmine Yale turned and ran: "I'm not drinking it."
Sylvan Cheney placed the bowl on the coffee table: "I gave you the time of a meal to think, and your answer is 'not drinking', right?"
His voice was warm and deep, yet it carried an irresistible command.
"..." Jasmine was a bit cowed, she was afraid of Sylvan Cheney when he was stern.
"Let me see the gift first," Jasmine compromised, stepping back, her bright big eyes looking at him.
The corner of Sylvan Cheney's lips curved upwards: "Drink it first, then I'll show you."
He did not give in.
Jasmine Yale steeled herself and approached: "Do you keep your word?"
"The gift is bought for you anyway. Why wouldn't it count?"
Jasmine Yale longed for his gift, but she was also afraid of the dark Chinese medicine.
