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One Night Stand: Can't Stop Pampering You

One Night Stand: Can't Stop Pampering You

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Introduction
"Argh," she wakes up to find an irritable man lying next to her, and immediately scrambles to escape, with her clothes in tow. A huge hand grips the back of her collar, and he casually says, "We need to talk about responsibility." "Responsibility? I don't need you to take responsibility," she retorts. "It's you who needs to be responsible to me!" He raises an eyebrow, "Do you think the CEO can be easily bedded?"
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Chapitre

Boom~~

The summer rain poured down heavily, the drumming rain sounding like the roar of thunder at one’s ear - deafeningly loud. The terrifying flashes of lightning seemed to rip apart the dense, black clouds overhead, their claws fanning out garishly.

Even though it was only four in the afternoon, the sky had turned so dark it seemed like night had taken over. The streets were bathed in the glow of street lights, yet visibility outside of a three-meter radius was virtually non-existent.

At city A's wealthy residential area, a girl kneeling outside a mansion's iron gate sprawled across nearly thousands of square meters. The grandiose, beautifully crafted iron gate was blown wide open; the girl knelt in the middle of it all. The face of the security guard inside the booth painted a picture of helplessness and regret.

The pouring rain mercilessly drenched her. She kneeled dreadfully, her hair clinging to the back of her head and face. She wobbled slightly, having been kneeled for who knows how long, still insisting on staying put.

Her dress clung tightly to her body, soaking wet, accentuating the thinness of her waist. Her hands were placed on her kneecaps, head low. She kneeled there quietly.

The security guard on multiple occasions fetched an umbrella, intending to shelter her from the downpour, but struggled in his attempts. Being an old hand within the Fan family, he was deeply aware that should he take an initiative to shield her from the rain, she would have to face an even more severe punishment afterward.

“Squeak.” From behind the rain curtain, a car with its headlights on emerged. The rainfall blurred visibility to such an extent that it wasn't until the driver was close to running her over that he noticed her, the car skidding to an abrupt stop mere inches away from the kneeling girl.

Within the luxury sedan, a man in the backseat was busy in a French conversation over his phone. His handsome face, as pretty as Apollo, was etched with well-defined features. His lips curved into an alluring smile, the uttered French words mesmerizing to anyone listening. His deep eyes flashed an enigmatic smile, “Okay, see you later.”

The sudden braking of the car annoyed the man. The magical smile during the phone conversation vanished, replaced by a stern expression as if donned on an impenetrable mask.

The driver explained in a panic, “Mr. Liang, there's someone kneeling ahead.”

Upon hearing the driver's words, Situ Jingliang — seated in the back — looked up, his gaze piercing through the windshield towards the scene in front. However, the rainfall was so intense, he could not make out her face, only a frail figure stubbornly kneeling, her back erect and proud.

The sight of the car seemed like a blessing to the security guard. Finally, he found an excuse to have Miss get up. Excited, he hurriedly grabbed an umbrella, briskly stepping out of the security booth, his pant legs drenched by puddles.

However, someone else was quicker than him by a heartbeat.

"Open the door.” Inside the car, Situ Jingliang indifferently commanded. The bodyguard in the car immediately exited, umbrella in hand, and opened the car's rear door.

The soles of polished leather shoes, the untarnished trouser legs void of a single crease, stepped on the thoroughly soaked ground. The rain instantly wetted his trouser cuffs and shoe surface.

The bodyguard was half-exposed outside the umbrella, all for the young master before him to remain untouched by the rain.

Walking towards the front, Situ Jingliang saw the kneeling girl. With a stern face devoid of any expression, he knew it was her.

Fan Yiyi was already numbed by the rain, feeling completely insensate.

Rain falling on her hair, rain crashing against her face, she couldn't distinguish anymore. She only dropped her eyelids, this way her eyes felt a bit better. Kneeling on the ground, her knees had no sensation, and the upright back owed its posture to nothing but pure inertia.

Her vision was blurred, and thunder roared in her ears.

She no longer knew what to say. On such a heavily rainy day, she was unfortunately kneeling here.

Suddenly, the painful raindrops ceased falling. Fan Yiyi looked at the shiny shoes that had suddenly appeared in front of her. Following the slightly wet trouser leg, she slowly raised her head to look up.

The protagonist, clad in a sharp suit, stood before her. That face... wasn't unfamiliar. He stared down at her, who was currently in a pathetic state in the pouring rain, as if he were the most noble king. Also like a towering mountain, he stood steadily in front of her, his presence shielding her from the storm and the rain.

Looking at his face, which showcased the same expression 365 days a year, she raised the corners of her lips slightly and spoke, "You are here."

"Boom.” The thunder drowned out her voice, making it difficult to hear what she had said.

Fan Yiyi felt as if all her strength had been drained, a sense of dizziness washed over her. Her body swayed twice before toppling towards him.

Situ Jingliang squatted down to support her just in time. Her face was so pale it lacked any traces of color. Her eyelids were tightly closed, eyelashes slightly trembling.

He hadn't heard what she said, but he understood by reading her lips.

She said, "You're here."

Yes, he's here.

Ignoring her wet body, Situ Jingliang lifted her in a bridal carry. His tailored suit was instantly soaked, but he paced with her in his arms towards the mansion.

The security guard stayed there, dazed.

Master Liang... carried Miss?

In the grand hall of the Fan family, the atmosphere was unprecedentedly cold. The old man of the Fan family, with a stern face, sat in the middle.

Fan's only son, who is also Fan Yiyi's father Fan Jingcheng was sitting on the sofa, silent. Sitting beside him was his wife, Li Jiaxuan. Across from Li Jiaxuan were her two children, her eldest daughter Fan Qianxia and her son Fan Shuhao.