Sylvan Cheney kept his head down, walking slowly, but he didn't look up at the building again, moving towards the exit of the complex amidst the light snow.
The Christmas atmosphere in the complex was very strong, with many children around.
Snowflakes fell on his jet-black hair, and soon formed a thin layer, yet he walked on as if he felt nothing.
Jasmine Yale frowned.
In this weather outside, doesn't he feel cold at all?
His tall figure gradually disappeared into the snow, under the streetlights, he still looked the same as before—handsome, noble, reserved, like a beautiful scenery without any need for action.
Jasmine Yale recalled when it snowed in the past, she used to walk side by side with him, and at that time, looking down showed only the glow of the light and the white snow, while looking up greeted his gentle face.
Reality and memory intertwined, eroding her heart.
Just as Jasmine Yale was about to look away, she saw a little boy fall in the snow!
