Liang Xiao lost the warm embrace of his manager.
The assistant inexplicably got excited, glancing back and forth for a long time before secretly tugging at Duan Ming. “Brother Duan, is Brother Xiao blushing because he’s happy he doesn’t have to write a reflection after reading?”
Duan Ming, feeling pain everywhere except his heart, responded, “…Yes.”
The assistant lowered his head to read a text message. “Then if President Huo said to come home—”
“Don’t look.” Duan Ming, flustered and exasperated, covered the assistant’s eyes with one hand and dragged him out. “Go, go, go.”
The commotion wasn’t small, and Liang Xiao snapped back to reality. “Brother Duan.”
Duan Ming warned, “If you dare sneak back home tonight, tomorrow morning during the program recording, I’ll have Xiao Gong pull a food truck and run with the camera crew all the way from here to the capital.”
Liang Xiao: “…”
Duan Ming had worried himself sick for an entire night. His emotions were so turbulent that even reading ten books couldn’t calm him down. After staring at Liang Xiao for a while, he grabbed an orange, tossed it at him, and stormed out.
The assistant grew nervous. “Brother Xiao…”
Liang Xiao said calmly, “I’ll drive.”
The assistant breathed a sigh of relief, quickly nodded, and followed the manager out.
After cooling down for a moment, Liang Xiao peeled the orange and popped a segment into his mouth. Picking up his phone, he slowly scrolled through it.
The text began with two spaces and ended with a period—a very standard style of President Huo.
It wasn’t sent by the butler.
Liang Xiao thought carefully for a while but couldn’t imagine the butler being capable of convincing President Huo that a better pillow could also come with a recording function—one that could coax its user to return home and read books while holding them.
Even President Huo during his susceptible period wouldn’t be able to pull that off.
Lost in thought, Liang Xiao arranged the orange peels into the shape of a flower.
Over the past couple of days, Liang Xiao had already mentally prepared himself to consider that maybe—just maybe—President Huo might like him even a little bit.
Now that he received this message, it suddenly felt somewhat surreal.
President Huo probably wouldn’t use waiving reading reflections as bait to lure him into letting down his guard and coming home—only to then hold him close and read aloud before suddenly pulling out a reading comprehension test for him to complete.
Probably… not.
Liang Xiao wasn’t entirely sure but couldn’t resist the temptation. After some hesitation, he picked up his phone and replied with a message: “When are you coming back?”
Duan Ming returned suddenly, pushed open the door slightly, and said, “I’ll have Xiao Gong book an earlier flight.”
Liang Xiao paused for a moment, put down his phone, and looked up. “After filming…”
“After filming.” Duan Ming, genuinely worried that Liang Xiao might not wait until filming was over before running off, quickly cut off the ellipsis. “In five days.”
Liang Xiao nodded.
“Book a ticket for the same day,” Duan Ming instructed the assistant. “Send him directly to President Huo’s house.”
Liang Xiao’s ears felt a bit warm. He coughed lightly but didn’t object.
Duan Ming hadn’t thought it through at first, but now that he realized, he grew slightly concerned. “President Huo’s susceptible period isn’t over yet. He won’t switch from reading reflections to exams, will he?”
Liang Xiao, feeling feverish and trying hard not to imagine the scene of being held while someone read to him, replied calmly, “If it’s an exam, so be it.”
Duan Ming: “…”
After waiting for a while without hearing anything more from him, Liang Xiao asked, “Brother Duan?”
Duan Ming had personally witnessed Liang Xiao’s struggles as an academic underachiever when forced to write reading reflections. He couldn’t fathom how Liang Xiao was now so willing to go along with it. Stunned for a long moment, he finally sighed with genuine admiration: “You really do like President Huo a lot.”
Liang Xiao froze and didn’t have time to ask for clarification. “What—”
Before he could finish, Duan Ming grabbed another orange and handed it to him before closing the door and leaving with the assistant in tow.
—
The next morning.
The production crew arrived early at the filming location.
The food truck started operating at 6 a.m., meaning they had to get up before dawn to prepare everything. By the time the setup was ready, the flow of customers buying breakfast had noticeably increased.
Wearing a mask, Liang Xiao worked quietly while the crew filmed discreetly without drawing attention. Occasionally, familiar customers stopped by and casually asked what had happened to the original owner of the truck. Seeing that Liang Xiao didn’t know much about it, they didn’t press further.
Duan Ming was busy alongside the assistant handling payments and giving change. Only after the morning rush ended did they finally have a moment to sit down and catch their breath.
The program director approached with a hidden camera crew and watched Liang Xiao skillfully make hamburgers and heat milk. “Mr. Liang, have you done this before?”
Liang Xiao smiled faintly. “It’s not hard.”
“It looks easy but isn’t so simple in practice,” the director remarked, watching him expertly fry patties with growing admiration. “Mr. Liang, your cooking skills are impressive.”
Most of Liang Xiao’s face was hidden behind his mask, but his eyes curved into a smile as he deftly grabbed a paper bag, added lettuce, fried eggs, tomato sauce, and assembled a hamburger before handing it over.
The director hesitated awkwardly. “Oh no, I can’t accept this—it’s part of filming…”
“It’s for everyone,” Liang Xiao said casually. “Just experiencing life.”
Since filming started so early in the morning, most of the production crew hadn’t eaten breakfast yet. After watching hot pancakes and bread being made all morning, they quickly caved in and abandoned their initial resolve completely.
Liang Xiao found a moment to spare and prepared around ten servings of food, frying a few more portions of pork loin and grilled sausages, which he set aside on the edge of the iron plate for later use.
The cameraman, feeling obliged after being treated to food, focused intently on filming Liang Xiao’s profile as he concentrated on frying golden, runny-yolk eggs.
“A perfect homemaker type,” the director sighed. “Once this airs, the comments section will definitely be filled with people saying they want to marry him.”
Duan Ming couldn’t help but feel pleased but tried his best to remain humble. “It’s not exactly explosive content…”
“On the Road wasn’t designed to focus on explosive moments anyway,” the director replied casually while eating his hamburger. “The theme is about ordinary life, the side closest to everyday people… In fact, Mr. Liang’s story aligns perfectly with our concept.”
It wasn’t that other guests lacked relatability, but after spending so much time in this industry, even if they wanted to return to the simplicity of ordinary life, it was often difficult to truly reconnect with it.
Duan Ming sighed in agreement. “It’s not easy for anyone.”
“Carrying such weight is inevitable,” the director remarked. “Guests like Mr. Liang are rare and precious.”
Though the comment was made without much thought, Duan Ming felt a pang in his conscience and a twinge in his knee from guilt. “…It must have been hard on the production team.”
Indeed, guests like Liang Xiao were exceptionally rare.
No guest had ever taken the program’s allotted budget of 10,000 yuan to buy a food truck and then turned around and used a wish to have the production team buy it back for 10,000 yuan.
The director couldn’t help but laugh. “It’s actually fine. The 10,000 yuan is just a gimmick—our actual budget was never that limited.”
Some guests’ dreams were far more extravagant, such as trips to the Sahara Desert or the Arctic Ocean. Factoring in travel costs for both themselves and the crew, 10,000 yuan wouldn’t even cover round-trip expenses.
The production team had often subsidized costs before. Compared to those cases, this instance didn’t exceed their budget by much at all.
“Inspired by Mr. Liang, we’re even planning a new approach,” the director revealed. “Once we buy back this food truck from Mr. Liang, we’ll return it to its original owner.”
Previously, some regular customers had inquired about what happened to the original owner of the truck. The director had briefly explained that the owner’s family had encountered difficulties and urgently needed money, which led them to sell it.
Liang Xiao’s wish at the time was for the breakfast cart to continue operating under On the Road’s program team.
After some discussion, they decided to go one step further—returning the breakfast cart to its original owner free of charge while conducting long-term follow-ups documenting how their life evolved afterward.
“That’s a great idea,” Duan Ming said enthusiastically as his eyes lit up. “Is everything resolved with the owner’s family? Was it difficult?”
“It’s been resolved,” the director nodded after doing prior research. “It’s quite a representative case—a couple with a son who reportedly has exceptional talent in sports but fell ill.”
Duan Ming asked, “What kind of illness?”
“Glandular closure,” the director explained. “It’s a condition unique to Alphas. The glands malfunction for various reasons, leading to incomplete differentiation. If not treated in time, it can become severe and even life-threatening.”
The assistant, now anxious, asked, “Is it treatable?”
The director nodded. “Yes, it’s treatable with high-dose, high-concentration synthetic Omega pheromone therapy.”
The production team had already started preparations for filming, and the director had specifically visited the hospital to learn more. “The principle is simple, but it requires professional handling. If not done properly, it can lead to lasting complications.”
The cost of this treatment was roughly 10,000 yuan. For a young boy training in sports and still growing, the financial burden was significant—half-grown kids are notorious for eating their families into poverty. The family had little savings left, which forced the breakfast cart owner to sell their primary source of income in desperation.
“Synthetic Omega pheromones?” The assistant was curious. “Are they real Omega pheromones?”
“No, they’re artificially synthesized to mimic Omega pheromones,” the director clarified patiently while holding some reference materials. “How could they use real Omega pheromones? That would be suicidal! For every Alpha cured, there’d be an Omega on the brink of death…”
Hearing this new information for the first time, the assistant nodded earnestly in agreement.
Duan Ming listened quietly but gradually furrowed his brows. He glanced at Liang Xiao, who was still busy working nearby.
Liang Xiao had just sold two “Full Energy Value Meal” combos when he turned around and was pulled aside by Duan Ming. “Brother Duan?”
“You once mentioned—” Duan Ming lowered his voice and asked him, “When you were going through differentiation, did you involve someone else?”
Liang Xiao still felt embarrassed about bringing it up and coughed lightly before brushing it off vaguely. “Brother Duan, I’ve grown up now…”
“I’m not saying you were being immature,” Duan Ming frowned. “At that time, who got hurt—you or the other person?”
“Brother Duan,” Liang Xiao replied seriously. “Although we were technically a lone Alpha and an unpaired Omega back then, nothing happened between us. Don’t worry.”
With his hands occupied, Liang Xiao gestured briefly to emphasize his point: “My glands are absolutely clean and untouched. Other than President Huo, no one else has ever bitten me.”
Duan Ming: “…”
Seeing that Liang Xiao’s thoughts seemed entirely preoccupied with Huo Lan, Duan Ming felt both frustrated and helpless. He decided not to argue further and grabbed a grilled sausage along with the assistant.
