The fireworks had ended, just like how Michelia blooms marked the end of the flowering season, traceless.
Jasmine Yale sat back down at the table, her face showing utter boredom as she supported her cheek with one hand and gently caressed her wine glass with the other.
The red wine shimmered with a dim luster under the light.
Sylvan Cheney sat down across from her, his eyes landing on her face.
"Mr. Cheney, when I was little and made mistakes, you liked to scold me. What about now, what would you do if I made a mistake now?"
"It depends on the situation."
"Serious?"
"If it's serious, be prepared to beg me."
"And if it's not?" Jasmine curved her lips slightly.
"If it's not serious, I can let it slide." Sylvan eyed her, "Why, thinking of doing something?"
"Not really, just asking." Jasmine smiled, "I'm so obedient, how could I possibly make a mistake, right?"
"If only you were obedient, I'd have fewer worries."
