The night gradually deepened.
Occasionally, a few people entered the reception room, and Jasmine Yale smiled to greet them.
But soon, the people who came in left again, never staying for long, from start to finish, she was the only one constantly sitting in the reception room.
Halfway through the magazine, Jasmine Yale fell asleep.
With the book beneath her hand, she drifted off on the table, half-asleep.
She was too tired; every long flight exhausted her greatly. She never got used to it, and the jet lag was always hard to adjust to.
In her palm, she held onto that small keychain.
Outside the window, the night was deepening. The autumn wind rustled the leaves, making the branches swish, and occasionally birds flew across the sky.
The young girl from the front desk almost couldn't bear to wake her up, thinking, oh dear, falling asleep while pregnant, what if she catches a cold?
