…
This heavy love.
Liang Xiao felt conflicted as he touched his neck, abandoning the idea of finding a red string.
If he were to string these keys together, it wouldn’t be a pendant.
It would be armor.
Judging by the sheer number of keys, if he ever took them out to count when thinking of President Huo, he’d probably end up forgetting about him entirely.
Duan Ming noticed him zoning out and waved a hand: “What are you thinking about?”
Liang Xiao didn’t dare to hang the keys around his neck and murmured: “…President Huo really trusts me too much.”
Even though he was an omega, he was still the omega who once smashed the *Contemporary Medical Knowledge Encyclopedia* on President Huo’s head.
Now President Huo was giving him these 300 keys. Whether put in a plastic bag or strung together, if swung and thrown…
They could probably smash a bowl-sized hole in the wall.
Afraid of scaring his manager, Liang Xiao shook his head to clear his thoughts: “The bedroom—”
Liang Xiao coughed: “Which one is for the master bedroom?”
The keys were all labeled. Duan Ming rummaged through them and handed him one.
Liang Xiao, being cautious, thought for a moment: “What about the second bedroom?”
Duan Ming found it and handed it over.
Liang Xiao took a deep breath, his heart racing slightly as he fanned himself: “Is there one for the small bedroom?”
Duan Ming searched again and handed it over.
Liang Xiao coughed, swallowing: “The study—”
Duan Ming handed it over.
Liang Xiao said softly: “The office…”
Duan Ming was stunned: “You want to do it in the office too?!”
Liang Xiao couldn’t bring himself to say it out loud. His thoughts exposed by his manager’s comment, he clicked his tongue, his face rapidly reddening from his ears to his collar.
“Yes!” Liang Xiao threw caution to the wind, “Is that not allowed?!”
“…It’s allowed.” Duan Ming nodded, “One must have dreams.”
Duan Ming patted his shoulder: “Maybe one day, you two will go from the master bedroom to the second bedroom, kiss in the small bedroom, roll into the study, and then President Huo will carry you into the office.”
Liang Xiao: “…”
Having had his fun, Duan Ming didn’t tease him further and picked up the script: “Let’s talk business.”
*Yun Qi*’s setting is fictional. The protagonist is born into the Zhenyuan Marquis’s family, the eldest grandson of the current Empress’s family, a precious young lord.
“He was born when the White Tiger star was in motion. The Zhenyuan Marquis considered him inauspicious and left him in a side courtyard, neglected.”
Duan Ming continued: “The Empress disapproved, so she had him brought into the palace from a young age, raising him with the same indulgence as a prince.”
Liang Xiao tried to calm his mind, responded with a sound, and rolled down the car window for some air.
“Without the constraints of being a prince, and with his natural talents, everyone from the Emperor and Empress to his teachers indulged him,” Duan Ming said. “They spoiled him too much. If not disciplined for three days, he’d be up to mischief. There wasn’t a roof in the entire palace he hadn’t climbed.”
Duan Ming deliberately flipped through a few pages of the script: “When the Emperor was receiving envoys, with ceremonial music playing, he was on the roof of Zhaoming Hall, stealing chestnuts.”
Liang Xiao sighed softly.
“What’s wrong?” Duan Ming asked, “Don’t want to climb roofs or don’t want to eat chestnuts?”
Liang Xiao, thinking about being carried into the office, coughed lightly and came back to his senses: “It’s not that.”
Liang Xiao had already discussed the script with the director for a day and was quite familiar with the plot: “He not only stole chestnuts but also grabbed a bunch of fireworks to play with at night.”
Unlike Yun Lian, this character starts off completely bright and cheerful, a spirited youth in fine clothes on a fierce horse, spoiled beyond measure in the palace, yet so brilliantly talented that no one could truly get angry with him.
Duan Ming’s character briefing only went this far, and he couldn’t suppress his curiosity: “Then what happened?”
Liang Xiao: “He died.”
Duan Ming: “…”
Liang Xiao had a premonition when he performed that torture scene back then, and sighed: “They like to see me with clothes full of holes, a wound on my chest, crawling in the snow covered in blood and barely alive.”
Duan Ming didn’t know whether to praise him for his clear self-positioning: “…Yes.”
Duan Ming had been monitoring Weibo for him these past few days and was particularly impressed by the data. The torture scene of Yun Lian had the highest reposts, comments, and likes. Even now, there were many petitions under the official Weibo of the production team, hoping they could film more scenes on this theme.
Duan Ming coughed and said: “The more torturous—the more backbone shown.”
Liang Xiao asked: “Really?”
Duan Ming thought to himself, ‘How could that be possible? They just crave your body,’ but said aloud: “Really.”
Liang Xiao felt slightly comforted, nodded reassuringly, and reopened the script.
The name “Yun Qi” is taken from Qu Yuan’s “Nine Songs,” which reads “Carrying cloud banners that sway and bend,” using clouds as fierce battle flags for an expedition, concealing a chilling intent for war.
“At sixteen, he led troops and won every battle he fought,” Liang Xiao said. “Before he even came of age, the Emperor already wanted to grant him his own title of nobility. But at this time, his family got caught up in a succession struggle.”
The Empress herself had no children. The Marquis of Zhenyuan pledged allegiance to the Sixth Prince, doing both clean and dirty deeds, getting his hands stained with too much blood, and finally incurring the Emperor’s wrath.
The Empress, who was already ill at the time, suddenly heard the shocking news and died of anger and distress.
The Marquis of Zhenyuan’s household fell overnight, their property confiscated and the clan exterminated, with only the young lord who had not yet come of age escaping.
Duan Ming instinctively guessed: “Years later, he returns for revenge, clears his family’s name, and makes those responsible pay blood for blood?”
“No, the fall of the Marquis of Zhenyuan’s household wasn’t unjust,” Liang Xiao shook his head. “His family schemed and plotted, eliminating opposition. He grew up in the palace and never knew about it.”
Liang Xiao flipped through the script: “In the fifth year of his escape, there was an emergency at the border.”
By this time, the Emperor had become the Late Emperor, and the new Emperor who ascended to the throne was the Sixth Prince to whom the Marquis of Zhenyuan had pledged allegiance.
The new Emperor’s foundation was unstable. To legitimize his rule, he had all those who had worked with him in the past eliminated, and of course, he wouldn’t spare the remnants of the Marquis of Zhenyuan’s household.
“The court was in chaos, with no one capable of leading troops into battle.”
Liang Xiao continued: “He stole a horse and was pursued by the court all the way, rolling through two thousand li of blood-stained road.”
The border was in chaos, with troops collapsing like mountains. The once invincible young general, now covered in wounds and blood, rode alone with clouds as his banner, forcefully rallying a few hundred remnant soldiers.
This force of a few hundred remnant soldiers cut across the battlefield, holding back the barbarians at the northwestern frontier.
“Those pursuing him didn’t kill him, instead guarding his back,” Liang Xiao said. “He rode through the night, chased for thirty li, killed the barbarian leader with a single spear thrust, and was riddled with arrows.”
Duan Ming couldn’t help but feel the pain: “Is that the end?”
“There’s a bit more,” Liang Xiao looked at the script. “When those responsible for capturing him arrived, he was lying on the blood-soaked snow, leaning against a rock, setting off fireworks for himself.”
“…” Liang Xiao held back, but still couldn’t resist asking: “Why does it have to be on snow?”
“It looks good,” Duan Ming urged him. “Then what?”
“Those people wanted to take him for treatment.”
Liang Xiao continued: “He wouldn’t let them move him, saying it hurt too much.”
Duan Ming was on the edge of his seat: “And then—”
Liang Xiao shook his head: “That’s all.”
Duan Ming was stunned.
Liang Xiao looked through it once more and closed the script.
The scene ends there.
In the crimson snow, amidst the remnants of fireworks, the young general who single-handedly turned the tide finally exhausts his strength and closes his eyes.
The once spoiled young lord softly complains that it hurts.
“Mr. Liang finished discussing the script and came back.”
The butler looked at the time: “Should we go to the door to welcome him?”
Huo Lan opened a book: “No need.”
The butler looked at the book in his hand, coughed, and inconspicuously moved towards the door: “Mr. Liang might not know the way, I should—”
Huo Lan: “1645.”
The butler: “…”
Huo Lan turned two pages, frowning slightly: “The Church of Ireland in County Armagh, Northern Ireland…”
“President Huo,” the butler spoke up timely, “Mr. Liang might not like ‘A Brief History of Time’.”
Huo Lan fell silent for a moment, then closed the book.
The butler had accompanied him in choosing books all afternoon, watching their President Huo select from human origins to the birth of the universe. He really wanted to go out for some fresh air and welcome Mr. Liang who was about to return.
The butler looked at him, hesitating: “Why are you choosing books here…”
This study wasn’t Huo Lan’s; it belonged to the late master and mistress. The mistress was interested in many fields, so the master had a bookshelf built. Fearing the mistress wouldn’t understand economics books, he specifically chose more accessible and popular interpretations like “Currency Wars.”
Huo Lan had his own study, and the butler wasn’t sure why he didn’t go there: “Don’t you know your own books better?”
Huo Lan: “He doesn’t like them.”
The butler was taken aback: “Why?”
Huo Lan shook his head, put the book back on the shelf, and turned to leave the study.
The butler closed the door and quickly followed, about to speak when suddenly there was a commotion outside the villa’s main door.
The butler frowned and grabbed a bodyguard rushing past: “What happened?”
The bodyguard hesitated, glanced at Huo Lan nervously, and pointed outside.
The butler looked outside and his heart sank.
The head of security rushed over, saw Huo Lan, swallowed what he was about to say, bowed, and quickly pulled the butler away.
“It’s the branch family that was mainly responsible for taking care of President Huo years ago.”
The head of security pulled him all the way to the stairs, lowering his voice worriedly: “What’s going on? Is it because President Huo gave his keys to Mr. Liang?”
The butler shook his head grimly: “It’s none of their business.”
After holding back for two seconds, the butler added with some heartache: “President Huo didn’t even give his own keys to Mr. Liang, he gave him my keys.”
![After losing all his wealth, the ancestor rose from his coffin [BL]](https://www.freenovels.net/wp-content/uploads/2025/01/Your-paragraph-text-1.png "After losing all his wealth, the ancestor rose from his coffin [BL]")
