Her waist was so slender that Matthew Saxon could encircle it effortlessly with one arm; he dared not apply too much pressure, fearing he might inadvertently snap her delicate hips.
A line of poetry suddenly sprang to Matthew Saxon's mind: Slender enough to grace a palace in Chu, her snowy skin warm as jade.
He thought Scarlett Yates was absolutely worthy of such praise.
"Matthew Saxon, put me down, I can walk by myself," Scarlett Yates weakly protested.
Matthew didn't pay her any mind, carrying her out.
"Hey, Matthew Saxon, did you hear me? I can walk on my own."
He still ignored her, striding gracefully with his long legs, exhibiting an expression of relaxed contentment, as though what he held wasn't a person but a feather-light pillow.
Descending the stairs, a few maids cleaning the hall paused, bowing respectfully as they greeted the couple.
