"Young Master Saxon's status is prestigious, and there are people lining up to curry favor with you. Can the trust of a common person like me, with no background, be important to you?" As the sky grew darker, the lanterns hanging became brighter, and the pictures painted on them gradually became clear.
When the wind blew, the lanterns would slowly rotate, and the paintings on them seemed to come to life.
Scarlett Yates looked up at the moving lantern hanging from the corner of the pavilion, her voice cold.
"To me, Miss Yates's trust is very important."
After a moment of silence, Maxwell Saxon spoke again with words that might cause misunderstandings.
His voice was low, graceful; in the night, although slightly cold, it was very pleasant: "I know it would be difficult to make you trust me again, but this time I truly just want to invite you to dinner."
