Chapter 646: Chapter 646: Sylvan Cheney Looking at the Tombstone


    Sylvan Cheney’s eyes concealed a profound depth.


    What was she thinking?


    “I’m going to take a shower.”


    Jasmine Yale turned around.


    With her back to him, she found her pajamas in the wardrobe before entering the bathroom.


    Her retreating figure suggested a kind of panic-stricken flight.


    Sylvan Cheney didn’t move, maintaining his earlier posture.


    His austere face bore an endless depth.


    In the bathroom, Jasmine Yale turned on the shower, her heart thudding uncontrobly.


    A wave ofplicated emotions washed over her, leaving her bewildered, lost, and disoriented in their wake.


    Steam began to rise.


    Her feelings surged mncholically, like ripples in water.


    …


    The winter in Landon began to mellow, and the temperatures were no longer as frigid as in December.


    Traces of spring were starting to be found in the air.


    The day was gloomy, the daytime as dark as the night.


    Since morning, a soft drizzle had filled the air, each thread-like droplet making a persistent weave.


    The Cheney Residence ancestral burial ground.


    Ynda Fern, wearing a long ck coat, stood in front of a gravestone, Sylvan Cheney by her side.


    This was Spencer Childe’s grave.


    “Mr. Cheney, I miss Grandpa so much. Before the New Year, he promised to take me to organize an art exhibition. I was eagerly preparing for it, never expecting that such a thing would happen. Life is unpredictable.” Ynda sighed.


    Sylvan Cheney looked at the gravestone, his expression quiet and reserved.


    The ambiance of the ce was as cold as the day’s weather.


    n/o/vel/b//in dot c//om


    Raindrops fell, and Ynda held an umbre over Sylvan Cheney.


    “Mr. Cheney, I’m d you’re okay. If not, I really don’t know what I would have done.” Ynda choked, “I miss Grandpa so much when I think of his kindness and care for me. He knew about my heart condition, and all these years he was constantly helping me find different renowned doctors.”


    “Mr. Cheney, even though Grandpa and you had a misunderstanding, he’s not here anymore. Can you forgive him?”


    “I never resented him,” Sylvan Cheney spoke calmly.


    “Although Grandpa left all his assets to me, as a girl, what am I to do with all of it? No amount of worldly goods could bring him back. Mr. Cheney, I want to give them to you.”


    “If it’s given to you, then keep it.” Sylvan Cheney said, “I don’t need it.”


    “Mr. Cheney…”


    “Don’t argue with me over this, Grandpa is no longer here.”


    Ynda nodded. She knew further arguments would be futile.


    “Mr. Cheney, don’t me Grandpa. He used to talk about you. He said that you were outstanding, capable… he really admired you.”


    Sylvan Cheney didn’t respond.


    When Spencer Childe was alive, he had always been wary of him seizing the family property, always suspicious of his intentions.


    Now that he was gone, there was no longer a need for disputes or exnations.


    “Mr. Cheney, I really miss Grandpa…”


    Suddenly, Ynda squatted down, let go of the umbre, and sprawled onto the gravestone.


    Her cries, even more lingering than the rain, echoed through the silent space…


    Ynda had been crying all morning, unable to hold back her tears whenever Spencer Childe was mentioned.


    Her grief was overwhelming.


    “Grandpa, Grandpa…” Ynda cried out.


    “Be careful not to catch a cold,” Sylvan Cheney picked up the umbre from the ground.


    The rain had soaked Ynda’s forehead, her tears mingling with the drops.


    “Mr. Cheney, Grandpa was so kind… why did they have to treat him like that…I miss him so much… I have been feeling guilty these days… Why didn’t I treat him better then… He always wanted to go to the Banks of the Seina, but I never had time to take him there… I feel so guilty…” Ynda sobbed uncontrobly.


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