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Beijing-Hong Kong Memories

Liang Weining rose to become a 'favorite' of Mr. Chen, the capital magnate of the Hong Kong Region, in just six months. The outside world said she climbed up by her beauty. No matter how good a vase might look, it can't escape being discarded once the owner grows tired of it. As such, everyone watched and waited. After three long years, they finally received news of Liang Weining's dismissal. While the entire upper circle thought Liang Weining had become history, nobody knew that on the eve of New Year's Eve, an entertainment reporter captured a romantic moment. In a black business car parked underneath the Zhonggang headquarters building, the backseat window was half-lowered, and Mr. Chen, who was always dignified and composed, unexpectedly lost control. In the mottled shadows, he grabbed the chin of a young girl and kissed her fiercely. The photos were exposed that same night, and a heavy snow fell over the Eastern Suburbs of Beijing. Inside the Mid-hill Villa, the fireplace blazed warmly. The man took the girl's soft, boneless hand from behind and guided her to write on the Xuan paper: Chen Jingyuan. "When will we go public?" he asked in a low voice. As soon as he'd finished speaking, the mobile phone screen lit up. The exclusive breaking news headline from the Hong Kong media flashed before their eyes again, and Liang Weining fretted over the news title, "Let's wait a bit longer." Chen Jingyuan's voice was slightly deep, "What are you worried about?" "My dad's blood pressure has been unstable lately." Years later, Mr. Chen gave an interview to the media, addressing personal issues. Reporter: "For you, what was the biggest obstacle in pursuing Mrs. Chen back then?" Mr. Chen paused for a few seconds, then smiled lightly, "My father-in-law's blood pressure." - High-ranking man X female secretary | 90% sweet | 8 years older.

The question to the star · Urbano
Classificações insuficientes
256 Chs

Chapter 183: Technical Work

The return trip was scheduled for the afternoon.

Just past eleven o'clock, the guesthouse butler sent a message saying that lunch was expected to be ready in twenty minutes.

Chen Jingyuan came down from the second floor and saw a big one and a small one, sitting cross-legged on the sofa playing idiom solitaire.

Not wanting to disturb their fun, he lit a cigarette and walked out to the terrace, dialing the Hong Kong Region number.

As the deep Cantonese voices faintly came through from the other side of the partition, Liang Weining slowly raised her eyes during the boy's contemplative breaks, casting her gaze toward the far end of the living room.

With just one glance, she saw the tall figure standing with his back to the railing.

The man was dressed in a white shirt and black trousers, on the phone.