<h4>Chapter 167: Chapter 167: The Soul Will Forever Spurn You</h4>


    She clenched her hands tightly around the lush green grass on the ground, her eyes shut tight, shaking her head from side to side, letting out a low growl of pain and anger through gritted teeth, "Ugh, Matthew Saxon, I want to kill you."


    "Ah, you pervert, don’t even think about making me fall in love with you."


    "I will never submit to you, so what if you got my body, my soul will forever despise you, you despicable beast."


    "No, don’te over, get away, just go away!"


    ...


    Matthew Saxon looked at the woman on the ground whose curses were bing more intense, his face showing aplex expression.


    His fingers, which had slipped to her lips, twitched uncontrobly.


    He pressed his lips tightly together, took several deep breaths, yet still let out a coldugh in anger.


    This damned woman actually dreamed that he was forcing himself on her?


    In her eyes, is he such a desperate man? Does she have too much confidence in herself?


    Does Matthew Saxon ever need to resort to force if he wants a woman?


    He was truly so angry at her, yet he had no way to vent it.


    On the very first night in Z Country, she gave him so much "surprise" and "shock," should he be thanking the old fox for his painstaking arrangements?


    Scarlett Yates’ curses didn’tst long, and suddenly, she started to sob quietly.


    Matthew was taken aback, looked down, and only then realized she hadn’t woken up.


    Her eyes were still shut, showing no sign of waking, but as her sobs arose, tears started to roll out of her closed eyes.


    Warm, sparkling tears, one by one, slid down her cheeks.


    She cried?


    Matthew watched as tears quickly dampened her face, and his expression changed slightly. He furrowed his brow and gently wiped the corners of her eyes.


    What was she dreaming about now to make her cry like this?


    One moment he found her so hateful it made him grind his teeth, but as soon as she cried, that tear-stained pale face suddenly seemed far less detestable.


    "Scarlett Yates, who are you crying for?" Matthew sighed softly, seemingly helplessly curling his lips, "Drunk like this, it seems from now on, I must never let you touch a drop of alcohol. Knowing you can’t drink, you still dared to drink so much, were you banking on meing to you?"


    "Young Master." A voice suddenly came from behind.


    George brought over some clothes and at a nce saw his Young Master crouching by thewn, looking somewhat stiff.


    He handed over the clean clothes, "Young Master, let me carry Miss Yates backter."


    The Young Master, who loves cleanliness so much, was vomited on by Scarlett Yates once, and probably won’t forget it for a lifetime. At this moment, he certainly wouldn’t want to touch her again, right?


    The tall, slender body blocked George’s view. Acting as if he hadn’t heard the suggestion, he took the clothes, put them on, then bent down and scooped up the woman on the ground emanating a foul odor of alcohol.


    "Let’s go back." Dropping those simple three words, he left first.


    George was left standing in ce, full of surprise.


    That person, was he the Young Master he knew?


    Why did he seem different from the Young Master he knew?


    He was vomited on by a woman, yet instead of furiously punishing her, he actually took her back.


    Was he really not seeing things?


    The Young Master’s change of heart was too sudden.


    Could it be, he really did fall for Scarlett Yates? It wasn’t as George spected, just a temporary fancy?


    For the first time, George suddenly realized he was understanding his Young Master less and less.