Jasmine Yale could be sure that he was very drunk, really didn't know why he drank so much.
Did he mistake her for someone else?
But he clearly called her by name.
"Hmm? Why don't you talk, is that okay?" Sylvan Cheney frowned and raised his voice, "Talk."
"Got it." Jasmine Yale mollified him lightly.
There's no point in arguing with a drunken man.
"Got what..." Sylvan Cheney was dissatisfied and very unhappy.
"To have a girl, I got it." Jasmine Yale looked skyward, speechless.
Not to mention that she had a hard time getting pregnant, besides, could she control whether it's a boy or a girl?
A drunken man's intelligence hits rock bottom.
"One is not enough..." He pressed down on her, with emotions swirling in the depths of his eyes, dark waves surging.
"Okay, okay, I know, one is not enough, how about ten?" Jasmine Yale held her forehead.
