The butler, unable to argue and feeling somewhat world-weary, glanced back.
The doctor bowed slightly, then left the bedroom, carrying his coffee and cookies.
–
The butler had initially tried to do something while the two had their heads pressed together, but upon seeing President Huo holding Mr. Liang and quietly reading the script word by word, he finally gave up completely and quietly closed the bedroom door.
The screenwriter had a Hong Kong background, and the script was exceptionally detailed, unlike the style of “The Year-End” which relied heavily on intuition from the start. Every scene and character was annotated.
In just a few scenes, brief descriptions of the main characters were already clearly listed.
“In front of Zhaoming Hall, civil and military officials stand solemnly in two rows, with three hundred imperial guards behind them.”
Huo Lan read a line: “As daylight breaks, envoys’ carriages gather like clouds, armored guards patrol everywhere, no one notices Yun[mfn]cloud[/mfn] Lang on the roof.”
Liang Xiao, who had already read through it once, couldn’t help but marvel at his inexplicable connection to this surname: “If there’s a third film, I might be called Yun San[mfn]Cloud Three[/mfn].”
Huo Lan’s lips curved slightly upward. He lowered his head to speak but saw the flushed Mr. Liang leaning against him, mumbling and rambling, which made his heart warm again.
Huo Lan lowered his head and touched Liang Xiao’s temple: “It’s because of the ‘Cloud Banner’.”
The Zhenyuan Marquis’s family had been disgraced and was no longer worthy of using the “Cloud” battle flag.
The young marquis fled, without armor or a saddled horse, holding only a white wax-handled spear with its tassel removed, originally unable to muster much presence.
The young general, covered in injuries, faced the dust-covered soldiers. Reining in his horse to rear up proudly, he pointed to the white clouds in the sky as their banner, leading the remnant troops alone to cut through thirty miles of desert.
“As long as there are clouds in the sky.”
Huo Lan: “His flag still flies.”
Liang Xiao’s eyes grew hot, and he closed them for a moment: “Mm.”
Huo Lan, who had also finished reading the script, flipped back to the beginning: “He shouldn’t die.”
“With no attachments and his wishes fulfilled.”
Liang Xiao, slightly worried, sat up to firmly state his position: “Dying miserably while on the run is too pathetic, being brought back to the capital for beheading is too shameful, it’s better to die with purpose.”
“…” Huo Lan: “I’m not trying to change the script.”
Liang Xiao, half-believing: “Really?”
Huo Lan looked at him for a long time, unable to resist rubbing his temple.
It’s not like he had some strange obsession.
When necessary, a character’s death can be more moving than their survival and more likely to create a classic.
He just wanted Liang Xiao to live well, not necessarily for him to survive in every corner of the screen.
Liang Xiao had initially intended to tease him, but seeing President Huo’s genuine headache, he couldn’t help but laugh first: “That’s good then.”
Liang Xiao’s arm was a bit sore, so he shifted slightly: “Huo Lan.”
Huo Lan lowered his gaze to look at him.
“What we act is all fake.” Liang Xiao looked at him, “I’m alive, don’t think about the past anymore.”
Huo Lan’s shoulders and back tensed silently, the lines that had been gradually softened by warmth suddenly becoming cold and hard.
Liang Xiao knew this was where his emotional wound lay, but didn’t want to say much. He touched on it briefly, reaching out to hold Huo Lan’s hand.
Of course, Liang Xiao had seen his own medical records.
From Liang Xiao’s perspective, seven-tenths of the whole incident stemmed from Longtao’s vicious and poisonous actions, and three-tenths was due to his own impulsive behavior and inability to find a way out.
But their President Huo might think that it was entirely because he hadn’t fallen into that trap back then and directly bitten Liang Xiao.
It couldn’t be explained, they could only take it slowly.
Liang Xiao couldn’t help but play a short erotic clip in his mind, coughed, and his ears turned red: “Should we… continue reading?”
Huo Lan nodded and picked up the script.
“The ritual official gives the order, and the signal sounds.”
Huo Lan, not allowing himself to think too much: “The atmosphere is solemn and grand, tributes are carried in a continuous stream, carriages gather, envoys from various countries converge.”
Huo Lan: “Yun Lang, having seen enough of the spectacle and feeling bored, lies in the corner of the hall peeling chestnuts to eat.”
Huo Lan finally couldn’t resist: “Your manager said that you’ve been on all the rooftops of these film sets.”
The manager had even mentioned his dislike for bitter medicine, so Liang Xiao wasn’t surprised. He nodded: “More or less.”
Omega actors have many limitations. Lower roofs are manageable, but higher ones undoubtedly require wire harnesses. Due to their physical limitations, omegas can easily be injured and left bleeding if not careful.
Liang Xiao didn’t mention this, instead enthusiastically sharing: “The ones in the Jiangnan film set are the best. There are several halls specifically for shooting grand scenes, and the small beasts at the corners of the halls are all gilded.”
Huo Lan: “…”
Liang Xiao sighed: “I almost pried one off at the time.”
Huo Lan had heard from the manager about Liang Xiao’s skill at changing subjects. Despite being prepared, he still couldn’t resist being led astray: “It’s probably copper-plated.”
Liang Xiao was surprised: “Copper-plated ones don’t rust either?”
“They can be sprayed with a layer of clear lacquer…” Huo Lan noticed something was off and tried to bring the conversation back on track, “Xingguan will arrange experienced wire stunt coordinators.”
In “The Year-End,” Liang Xiao didn’t have much acrobatic work to do, apart from walking around, so he didn’t need to use stunt performers.
Period dramas always involve flying across rooftops and running along walls. If you want to film action scenes, it’s impossible without using wire harnesses.
Liang Xiao eventually couldn’t avoid it. After a moment of silence, he smiled and said, “Okay.”
“Actually… it’s not a big deal.”
Liang Xiao stopped joking around and explained seriously, “This requires experience. Everyone feels uncomfortable at first, but once you get used to it, it’s not much different from walking.”
“I have many scenes with wire harnesses,” Liang Xiao became enthusiastic. “In ‘Heroes Chronicles’ episodes 7, 9, and 13, ‘Rippling Waves’ episodes 9, 16, 25, and 37, and ‘Under the Willow’ all the male lead’s wire scenes were done by me. I widely accept—”
Liang Xiao, used to reciting his resume, coughed and barely stopped himself.
Huo Lan frowned, “Accept what?”
Liang Xiao, a bit embarrassed, mumbled the rest, “Accept various stunt and extra work… high quality at low prices.”
Huo Lan closed his eyes, suppressing the turmoil in his chest.
Liang Xiao quickly added, “It’s all thanks to experience.”
“I don’t have many injuries, especially in the past two years. I’ve become familiar with it all.”
Omegas are naturally gifted at not scarring. Liang Xiao sat up, and taking advantage of the lack of evidence, shamelessly made up stories, “I’m not as delicate as during my heat periods. I’m not afraid of pain at all.”
Huo Lan lowered his gaze.
Liang Xiao took a deep breath, steeling himself, “Really, you can look.”
The director had set a time with him, starting in three days and officially beginning in a week. By then, they’d be running around the set, and probably wouldn’t be able to return to the villa for a while.
If he missed this opportunity, all those years of reading erotic novels would have been in vain.
Liang Xiao, with his rich experience, felt he should bravely take on the responsibility of advancing things between the two of them.
At times like this, Huo Lan probably wouldn’t agree immediately and would feel it was disrespectful to him.
While the two were pushing and pulling, hesitating, Liang Xiao could accidentally rip the buttons of his pajamas, and then, depending on different story types and plot developments, have some deeper exchanges.
Liang Xiao threw caution to the wind, his face flushing as he grabbed Huo Lan’s hand and pulled it towards his chest, “If you don’t believe me, you can check—”
Liang Xiao: “…”
Liang Xiao looked down, staring blankly at Huo Lan’s hand as it moved to unbutton his clothes.
Liang Xiao felt a bit dazed, “President Huo.”
Huo Lan didn’t look at him, keeping his gaze lowered as he unbuttoned Liang Xiao’s collar, “Mm.”
“You—” Liang Xiao swallowed, “are just checking?”
Huo Lan indeed wanted to know, but felt he should respect him. He kept his gaze lowered as he fumbled with the buttons, “I won’t look.”
Liang Xiao felt this was the crux of the problem, “If you don’t look, how will you confirm… my body…”
Huo Lan: “…”
Liang Xiao: “…”
Liang Xiao watched as Huo Lan suddenly came to his senses and withdrew his hand. With his collar open, Liang Xiao felt a bit dazed as he closed his mouth.
How had he, with all his experience, managed to push away an opportunity for President Huo to touch him?
Huo Lan came to his senses, full of regret, “I’m sorry.”
Liang Xiao regretted it even more, “No…”
Huo Lan clenched his fist, closing his eyes tightly, trying not to think about the thoughts running through his mind.
It wasn’t that he didn’t believe Liang Xiao’s words, he just knew Liang Xiao was lying to him.
Before the two of them were thoroughly connected, he might not have been able to realize it.
Back in Jiangnan, little Liang Xiao was clearly afraid of pain and suffering. He needed to be held and coaxed to take medicine, and when he slipped in the bath and bumped his head, he was upset for three days.
Little Huo Lan didn’t know what to do with him and was worried about his discomfort, often putting down his studies to check on him.
Little Liang Xiao, with a band-aid on, curled up in bed and wouldn’t get up. He was being dramatic, insisting that Huo Lan blow on the wound on his forehead.
The young Huo Lan was stubborn and had never done such an improper thing, refusing no matter what. After half an hour of coaxing, seeing Liang Xiao refuse to take his medicine, and thinking about the dozen or so unfinished test papers, he finally couldn’t bear it anymore and left after putting down the medicine.
…
Huo Lan closed his eyes, his chest aching.
At that time, he didn’t know that Liang Xiao had no family, and wanting someone to blow on his wound wasn’t improper at all.
Little Liang Xiao had never been treated well by anyone. He had learned some tricks from books and TV, picked what seemed exciting, and was eager to try them out with someone.
Huo Lan forced back the pain in his eyes and spoke softly, “Back then—”
Liang Xiao was still regretting, feeling dejected, “What?”
Huo Lan: “Back then… that person.”
Liang Xiao was stunned for a while before realizing. He sighed lightly.
…Here we go again.
This terrible jealousy.
Liang Xiao held Huo Lan’s hand, patting his arm to comfort him, “Don’t worry, he never undressed me either.”
“I even hid my injuries from him back then.”
Liang Xiao remembered his manager’s suggestion and tried to find comparable points, focusing on comforting Huo Lan, “I won’t hide anything from you.”
Huo Lan felt another knife in his chest: “…”
Huo Lan was silent for a moment: “You were injured back then?”
It was already long enough ago, and it had nothing to do with acting. Liang Xiao felt there was no need to hide such things, so he nodded and told the truth, “I was short on money then, working three jobs. I was young and weak, always getting bumps and bruises, always secretly using his red flower oil.”
Huo Lan remembered the smell of red flower oil that filled the bedroom back then: “And then said… you accidentally spilled it.”
“Yes.” Liang Xiao thought he was quite clever back then, “Using it every day would be too strange, so I usually only used it once a week.”
Huo Lan silently clenched his fist.
Huo Lan held back again and again, but finally couldn’t resist. His voice became hoarse, “Do you want to see him?”
Liang Xiao was stunned for a moment, “Huh?”
“…We can find him.”
Huo Lan said softly, “Have him meet you—”
Liang Xiao firmly replied, “I don’t want to.”
Huo Lan was surprised and looked up at him.
Liang Xiao was a bit troubled.
Liang Xiao didn’t doubt that Huo Lan could find the person. With Xingguan’s information integration capabilities and Huo Corporation’s financial resources, finding an alpha who was likely already quite successful now shouldn’t be too difficult.
Not everyone is like him, wandering around without school records, only to discover they’re undocumented when trying to enter university.
The two of them were probably evenly matched. Liang Xiao couldn’t help but imagine a future meeting, with their President Huo and the other person’s auras clashing in a storm of swords and blood.
Liang Xiao sighed, mumbling, “I’m really a troublemaker…”
Huo Lan didn’t understand, “What?”
“Nothing.” Liang Xiao shook his head, pulling himself together, “I really don’t want to see him.”
It wasn’t because of guilt or unease, nor was it entirely because he feared President Huo would freeze the other person out.
Liang Xiao instinctively didn’t want the other person to know what really happened when he ran away back then.
Whatever he did was his own choice. Whether it was saving someone or nearly losing his life, the young Liang Xiao had countless opportunities to change his mind. The suppressants were in his hand; he wasn’t forced.
At that time, he just felt that such a good person… should continue to be good.
Open and honest, pure and clean.
There was no need to bear the burden of a life-threatening truth.
“Let the past be the past.”
Liang Xiao felt emotional, “If I really saw him again, I’d definitely run away as far as possible.”
Huo Lan: “…”
Huo Lan’s confession was on the tip of his tongue, but he painfully bit it back and swallowed it, falling silent.
Liang Xiao thought for a while, couldn’t help but laugh, and sighed lightly, “I wonder if he sees me now, what he will do to me.”
Maybe he would want to stab him.
A wild little omega who played with someone’s feelings.
Liang Xiao would never admit that he was so determined, perhaps mostly because he didn’t want to repeat the nightmare of memorizing books from his youth: “He probably hates me to death…”
“He doesn’t,” Huo Lan said.
Liang Xiao was stunned.
Huo Lan met Liang Xiao’s gaze: “He—”
Fearing Liang Xiao might run away, Huo Lan closed his eyes tightly, silently clenching his fist, and didn’t continue.
Liang Xiao was moved: “President Huo.”
Liang Xiao held his hand: “You… don’t have to be like this.”
To comfort himself, he even had to speak well of a rival he was jealous of.
Liang Xiao, reminded of his worries by Huo Lan, accidentally said too much. Now calming down: “What he wants to do is his business, I don’t care anymore. You want—”
Huo Lan gripped his arm, pulling him into an embrace.
Liang Xiao, held by him, felt his heart skip a beat. He instinctively held his breath and looked up.
Huo Lan lowered his gaze, his eyes falling on him.
Even back then, young Liang Xiao was very concerned about his face. When he bumped his forehead, he worried for a whole week whether it would leave a scar.
He had no choice but to get a scar-free remedy from a Huo Corporation hospital.
Young Liang Xiao was very diligent in applying the medicine. He didn’t need supervision, squatting in the bedroom every day, carefully applying it in front of the mirror for several days in a row.
It didn’t leave a scar.
Huo Lan closed his eyes, suppressing the intense turmoil in his gaze.
Liang Xiao looked up slightly, his eyes bewildered.
He had just had a fever, which was now fading. His bangs were slightly disheveled, dampened by sweat, with a few strands sticking to his forehead.
Huo Lan raised his hand to brush them away, carefully and gently blowing on his forehead.
Liang Xiao wasn’t sure what he was doing: “Huo—”
Huo Lan closed his eyes and kissed his forehead.
