Chapter 1149: Chapter 1149: I’m Freezing to Death…

When Sylvan Cheney hurried over, Jasmine Yale was already curled up into a ball, squatting on the ground, hugging her knees, and burying her head deep into her knees.

Despite that, she was still shivering from the cold.

Outside, there was an unstoppable chill and drifting mist.

She resembled a homeless kitten, curled up on the edge of the desolate underbrush.

The Rolls-Royce stopped, and Sylvan Cheney pushed open the car door and strode over.

He took off his coat and wrapped her tightly in it, carrying her towards home.

His clothes carried his body heat and scent, and Jasmine Yale felt much warmer, snuggling deeper into the fabric.

Her icy hands clung to Sylvan Cheney’s neck like clutching straws, unwilling to let go.

“Cold, so cold…”

Her lips had turned blue with cold; she couldn’t form a complete sentence.

“Serves you right.”

“I’m going to freeze to death…”

“You won’t die.”

Jasmine Yale was so upset she started to cry; she moved twice in his arms in protest.

How could she not die in this kind of winter… It was cold enough to freeze someone to death; she wasn’t a cockroach.

Sylvan Cheney’s coat was enveloping her, while he walked through the wind in just his thin sweater and vest.

It was indeed cold.

“How long have you been standing outside?” he asked harshly, his voice icy.

“An hour? I can’t, can’t remember…”

“Crazy!”

“You, you said… I wouldn’t die…” Jasmine Yale weakly retorted, barely audible.

Sylvan Cheney was helplessly angry; he looked down, his gaze falling upon her face.

Her face was red from the cold, devoid of color, pale as paper.

He quickened his pace, carrying her into the warm Cheney Residence.

The inside was a stark contrast to the icy world outside.

Feeling the warmth of the heating, Jasmine Yale felt as though she was revived, her body much more comfortable.

Sylvan Cheney didn’t put her down right away; he carried her to the bedroom.

The bedroom was even warmer; he placed her in the bed, tucked her into the covers, and personally brought a hot water bottle to her.

He knew she couldn’t withstand the cold in winter, with her hands and feet always icy. If she didn’t keep warm properly, it could lead to trouble.

Clinging to the hot water bottle and wrapped in the blanket, Jasmine suddenly seemed full of life.

The blankness in her eyes began to fade, replaced by a gradually returning luster.

His blanket held his scent; on this bed, she had her deepest memories, tinged with intimacy.

She had given her virginity to him here.

Jasmine Yale bowed her head, still wrapped in the blanket.

Sylvan Cheney poured her some hot water and placed the thermos on the bedside cabinet.

A crystal lamp was turned on in the bedroom, its light bright and its colors gentle.

He also brought her cold medicine, frowning, “Take the medicine, don’t catch a cold.”

“I’m fine, I’m not that delicate,” Jasmine Yale was reluctant to take it.

“Not that delicate? Fine, then go stand outside for another hour!” Sylvan Cheney’s voice was harsh.

Jasmine Yale was most afraid of his scolding; it was a habituated fear.

Whenever he scolded her, she liked to look at him, with tears brimming in her large eyes.

Sylvan Cheney was still the same, his face stern, without much expression, except for what appeared to be a wound on his neck, a faint trace, and his face was strikingly haggard.

His frame was tall and large, and she seemed like a kitten in front of him.

Her two hands tightened on the blanket, shaking her head, “I won’t go out.”

“Take the medicine, don’t make me say it a third time.”

Jasmie Yale felt wronged by his commanding tone, but finally stretched out a hand to take the white pill and swallowed it.

The warm water slid through her stomach, making her body feel much warmer.