Chapter 1361: What Is She Doing?
In such a serious situation, he could be said to have suffered no loss whatsoever, and if one truly had to point out a loss, it would be that he lost some memories.
But for him, the part of memory he forgot was unimportant, not affecting his life at all.
Thinking back and forth, he realized he only forgot Scarlett Yates.
That woman... such a despicable woman, isn’t it better not to remember her?
He even wondered why she was the only one he forgot?
During the time before he left A Country, did she do anything to wrong him, causing him to be so disappointed that he forgot her?
There was an unclear relationship between her and Maxwell Saxon, and just that was unbearable for him.
He stood by the window; the window was tightly closed, the heater in the room was turned up high, outside was snow and rain, but the bedroom was warm like spring.
He was only wearing a thin robe, yet he didn’t feel cold at all.
When Saxon Mansion’s garden was designed, it considered the scenery for all seasons, so quite a few plum blossom trees were planted. In winter, various plum blossoms bloom, contrasting with the white snow in the garden, making it exceptionally beautiful.
Through the glass window, Matthew Saxon looked at the snowy scene outside, his eyes fixed unblinkingly on a patch of winter sweet trees, though his thoughts had long drifted elsewhere.
In his mind, the image of Scarlett Yates’ calm and indifferent face emerged.
Remembering her brought a bout of anxiety and frustration.
Suddenly, a faint clinking sound from downstairs interrupted Matthew Saxon’s contemplation.
Annoyed as he already was, hearing such a tapping sound made him even more irritable. He frowned, looked down coldly, and just as he was about to reprimand, his eyes flashed slightly, paused for a moment, and his gaze froze on the figure crouching under a bald tree below.
Words of reprimand reached his lips but were forcefully swallowed back.
A hint of surprise appeared on his face; he doubted his eyes, squinted slightly, and looked more intently downward. The figure crouched under the tree wielding a small iron shovel was still there.
It continued to snow.
The ground was wet, snowflakes danced in the air, and the outside temperature had already dropped below zero.
Yet she wore not very thick clothes while crouching under the tree, digging soil.
What was she doing?
Matthew Saxon was full of doubts, watched for a while, then gradually furrowed his brows, and a trace of annoyance flickered in his eyes.
With warm rooms available, she ran out into the icy wilderness to dig soil, without an umbrella, nor called someone to help hold an umbrella to block the snow and rain. Snow piled on her, but she didn’t know to brush it off with her hand.
Snow fell onto clothes with temperature and quickly melted away.
He could guarantee, with her staying out for just half an hour, she would catch a cold.
Was she doing this deliberately?
On the surface, she was indifferent to him, yet deliberately acted out a play of poignant drama for him to see.
Of all places, she chose right below his bedroom and made such a noise exactly to ensure he noticed her, didn’t she?
What on earth did this woman want?
On one hand indifferent to him, yet on the other hand, doing such inexplicable actions to draw his attention.
However long Scarlett Yates squatted below, Matthew Saxon kept watching her from above for just as long.
From the moment he discovered her, his gaze never once left her.
As he saw the snow piling more and more onto her, Matthew Saxon’s face grew increasingly cold.