<h4>Chapter 584: Chapter 584: Really no impression at all?</h4>


    A ridiculous and extremely ugly wooden sculpture, yet it was the most cherished gift he had from childhood.


    She would never know how important that small token of hers was when everyone else was mocking, looking down on, and rejecting him.


    It was a ray of sunlight in that gloomy period of his life, the only ray of sunlight.


    But she didn’t remember anything.


    When she just looked at that wooden sculpture with confusion and bewilderment, he knew that the memory, which was extremely precious to him, was entirely forgotten by her.


    She didn’t remember that the wooden sculpture was carved by her own hands and given to him.


    She also didn’t remember how, after angrily punching and chasing away the boys who bullied him, she held his hand and patted her chest, saying those words to him.


    Don’t be afraid, don’t be afraid, if anyone dares to bully you again, I’ll help you chase them away. I’m really good at fighting.


    From now on, how about I protect you?


    But he remembered everything, even every word she said.


    Perhaps, for her, it was just a memory that didn’t matter if it was remembered or not. She was young then, and it was natural to forget many things. And over so many years, she and he both changed a lot. When meeting for the first time again, he didn’t recognize her either, right?


    "Is this the funny friend who gave this to you?" Scarlett Yates spected.


    "Yes." Maxwell Saxon smiled slightly, "She gave it to me. It’s a wooden sculpture she carved herself, supposedly crafted to resemble me."


    Scarlett Yates looked down at the wooden sculpture in her hand again.


    This lump of something that didn’t resemble anything—aside from vaguely recognizable limbs, was there anything human about it?


    If Maxwell Saxon looked like that as a child, it would really scare people to death.


    At that moment, Scarlett Yates truly believed that Maxwell Saxon valued that friend he knew from childhood.


    Otherwise, how could such an ugly and worthless wooden sculpture have been kept by him until now?


    That little girl held weight, and very significant weight, in his heart.


    She suddenly had a slightly mischievous thought—if Maxwell Saxon’s old friend suddenly appeared before him and had grown into a graceful beauty, would Maxwell Saxon suddenly have a change of heart?


    One was an old acquaintance buried deep in memory, yet never forgotten; the other, a newpanion swiftly bonded with over months. Between the little girl and Alice Green, whom did he care more about?


    "But I don’t understand, why is Young Master showing me this wooden sculpture?" Scarlett Yates handed back the wooden sculpture that Maxwell Saxon treasured so dearly.


    "Young Master said I have many simrities with your friend, but I am not her. Young Master knows that well. Even if you show me the sculpture, I can’t recall any memories that aren’t mine."


    Suddenly, there was an unusual expression in Maxwell Saxon’s eyes.


    When Scarlett Yates handed the sculpture back to him, he suddenly sped her hand.


    With the sculpture, he tightly held her hand.


    Scarlett Yates was shocked: "Young Master, what are you doing?"


    Maxwell Saxon refused to let go, squeezing even tighter, a thin line of restraint formed by his lips, and his face appeared restrained: "Do you really have no memory at all? Think carefully, think again!"


    "Young Master, I don’t understand what you’re saying, let me go." In fright, Scarlett Yates forcefully shook off his hand.